Page 113 of Call You Mine
I’m tempted to ask how many, but I know counting means more to her than it does to me.
I’ve been reading a lot about OCD. The book I started last week is about how to be a partner to someone with it, and I’ve learned that sometimes talking about it can make symptoms worse because it can put her into that cycle of needing reassurance or rationalizing whatever thoughts she’s having.
The last thing I want to do is make her compulsions worse, and I’m sure dealing with an unexpected pregnancy—one we did everything you’re supposed to do to prevent—can’t be easy for her.
I notice the way her knee bounces as her eyes focus on the carpet just beyond her feet. I place my hand on her knee, and her gaze lifts to mine. “Have you thought about what you want to do?”
She doesn’t say anything at first; instead, she watches me, like she’s trying to find the answer somewhere written on my face.
“I’ll support whatever you choose to do,” I offer, and I mean every single word.
Before I can let myself imagine what it means for Ava to be pregnant, it’s important thatshedecides if she even wants to be pregnant.
It’s her body. It’s her choice.
“I don’t know,” she answers, and there’s a faint crack in her voice. One she tries to hide as she clears her throat, crossing her legs under her.
I bring my hand back to my lap, letting the slight sting of rejection linger for a moment before letting it go. I’m not going to let it discourage me. Not when I know what’s at stake here.
“Do you want to talk it out?” I offer. “Maybe it’ll help you decide what you want to do.”
She lets out another exhale, and it’s like my own lungs can take in air now, seeing that hers are.
“It’s just,” she starts, and she closes her eyes, as if she can hide the emotion becoming too strong to deny. “Things are already so complicated between us.” A tear falls from the corner of her eye, and it’s like a piece of my heart breaks off with it. “There’s the marriage, and Georgie, and lying to our friends, and now this? How are we supposed to bring a baby into this mess?” She brings her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs as another tear falls. “Babies are unpredictable and messy and completely change every aspect of someone’s life, and I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” she explains, the words tumbling out of her. “But on the other hand, this”—she gestures between the two of us—“I think I want this. And that’s even scarier.”
Joy spreads through my chest, warming me from the inside out. Hearing that she wants this makes me want it even more. This life with her, no matter how unpredictable and messy it is, I know it will be beautiful—because that’s what Ava does.
She makes everything more beautiful.
“Why is that scarier?” I ask, trying to find her eyes, but her gaze stays down.
“I think it’s something I want, but, at the same time, what if it’s not? And I’m so scared of the permanence of it.” She shakes her head, her grip tightening where she holds her arms. “I can’t stop thinking about if it’s the right decision for me because what if I won’t love my child? What if I don’t feel any connection to them? What if I don’t have that maternal instinct I see in Rumi? Even when I helped her with Evee, I never had that burning desire to have a baby of my own, but I think it was because I didn’t even think it was possible. Not with how carefully I did everything to prevent it.”
“Ava,” I start, moving closer to her. I leave some room between us, just in case she still wants it. “I see the way you are with Eveeandwith Georgie, the love you show them. That’s what matters. The way you take care of Rumi and Emerson in ways that they don’t even realize. All the other stuff will come with time, and there’s no right or wrong way to feel.” I don’t know if any of this is helpful to hear, or if it even makes any sense. But I try not to think too hard about it, just speak from the heart. “And it’s okay to be scared.”
She lets out a shaky breath. “I spent so much of my life, my childhood, being a parent for my sisters. I never wanted kids because I feel like I already have them.”
I immediately grieve something that was never really mine, but the love I have for Ava is so much stronger. “Then I think that’s your decision, love.”
She looks up at me, her eyes wet with tears, her cheeks red from wiping them away. I don’t know how long she looks at me, but I don’t dare interrupt whatever is going through her mind.
When she finally speaks, I have trouble making sense of the words. They sound too much like words I thought I’donly hear in my dreams. “I never wanted this before,” she whispers, her voice still unsteady. “Not like this. Not in a way that felt so real.” She swallows, her gaze flickering between my eyes, like she’s afraid to look away for too long. “But with you… It’s different.” Her breath trembles. “You make everything feel lighter. Like I’m not carrying the whole world by myself anymore.” She lifts her head from where it rests on her knees, slowly breathing in and out like she’s trying to steady something inside her.
I don’t dare speak, too afraid that I’ll ruin this moment—one that feels like I’ve waited my whole life for.
“I want this baby because it’syours. Because it’s ours,” she admits, her voice just above a whisper. A tear slips down her cheek, but she doesn’t wipe it away this time. “But I don’t want to do this without you.”
It sounds like she’s saying it more to herself than to me, but I don’t care.
I don’t care about anything except for helping her realize that she isn’t all alone anymore.
And she never will be again.
“You don’t have to,” I tell her, pulling her into my arms until I can feel her head against my chest and her legs on mine. “Let me help you. Let me help you do it all.”
“Anderson,” she whispers, her hands fisting the fabric of my shirt as she inhales shakily. She shakes her head like she’s trying to convince herself that I’m lying. That I’m not promising everything I’ve wanted to give her since the moment I met her. “This marriage wasn’t supposed to be real.”
“It was always real to me, Ava.”
