A Convenient Arrangement(56)

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“This was a great meal.” Leo picked up her bowl and his and carried them to the kitchen. Crumbs, all that remained of her homemade loaf of bread, littered the tiny dining table. “Perfect for a cold night.” He scrubbed the soup bowls and put them in the dishwasher and Gwen carried the rest of the plates to the kitchen counter. They silently loaded the dishwasher. She tossed in a pod of dishwashing detergent, twisted the dial, and the machine started softly humming.

Leo leaned against the counter on the other side of the sink. He looked relaxed and casual, a tiny smile hovered about his lips, but the growing tension of their unspoken conversation filled the space between them.

“We should talk,” Gwen said, breaking the silence. Leo nodded. He leaned forward and put his arm around her waist. They walked through her apartment to the couch. He pulled her down beside him and put his arm around her shoulders.

“I think…” Leo’s eyes, those gorgeous brown eyes, searched her face. “I’m concerned we want different things.”

Gwen’s heart bounded into a sprinter’s pace. He’d just put her own thoughts, that had raced around her brain for the last three days, into words. “I think so too.”

“You’re not a convenient arrangement. You’ve never been a convenient arrangement, I need you to know that. You mean much more than that to me, but…” Leo’s words drifted off, as though he realized once he spoke the words that came next, the end between them was inevitable.

Gwen sighed. “You don’t want to get married. You don’t see yourself with a family. You don’t want to be a father. The future you want doesn’t hold those things.”

“No,” Leo hesitated. “It’s not that I don’t want to get married—”

“You just don’t see yourself married to me.”

“It’s not even that. I love you.” He touched his fingertips to her hair. “I know my feelings. I could see us married. Not tonight, but maybe someday. And hell, Gwen, I never ever thought I’d picture myself married to anyone. It’s just…” He bit his bottom lip. “As much as I can envision a permanent future with you, I can’t…I can’t see myself with…kids.”

Gwen swallowed. Leo Travati could see himself married to her—maybe. Picture his life forever entwined with hers, perhaps…So what was he offering her? The possibility of a potential happily-ever-after as long as there were no children involved?

“I can’t…” Leo shook his head. “I can’t guarantee anything right now, other than I know I won’t ever want kids.”

Gwen nodded. “But I do.”

Leo caressed her cheek. “And you do.”

Heat welled up behind her eyes. Her heart twisted, and a giant lump lodged in her throat.

“You’ll make a great mom someday, Gwen, I know you will.”

Horrible big ugly tears leaked from her eyes, and she turned away from Leo. She didn’t want him to see her cry. How silly. He hadn’t proposed. He hadn’t guaranteed a future. He’d merely told her what she’d already known, that he didn’t want children. So why all the emotion?

Maybe she’d hoped. Maybe she’d thought…for a minute…a second…that loving her, being with her, spending time with her, was enough for him to change his vision of his future. No. Of course that was never going to happen. She wiped her eyes and took a big breath. No more tears.

“Okay, well, I think—”

“I should go,” Leo said. He rose to his feet and so did she. “I…I’m sorry, I…Gwen, I do love you.”

Her eyes burned with the effort of keeping her tears back, and she fought to keep her bottom lip from trembling. Leo loved her and she loved him. He loved her in the only way that he could, but that love was limited. She couldn’t accept those limits and have the type of life she’d always wanted.

“I know,” she whispered. She tried to put a smile on her face, but it was tight and most likely crooked. Her mask of nonchalance was impossible to wear. She couldn’t pretend that everything was okay, and that Leo’s words, his good-bye, their ending wasn’t shredding her heart. She tried, dammit, but the tears still flooded her eyes and pain speared her chest.

Leo leaned down and wrapped his arms around her now, pulled her close. She inhaled his scent, knowing that this sad little hug, would be the last time she touched him with the intimacy of a lover. His scent would never again cling to her sheets, her clothes, her skin. As soon as Leo closed the door behind him, their intimacy would no longer be a part of her life. Gone, as though their affair had never happened, as though it were merely a dream that had fleetingly been in her life and passed. Except it wasn’t, and now all his family and her best friends knew.