“I know Jeff told you that I wanted a family more than I wanted a woman. I know he told you a bit about my past and that he said all I’ve ever wanted was to be a father. But Jeff was wrong.” Wyatt stole a glance up at me, hoping to see change in my expression but I gave him nothing to work with.
He continued, “Of course, I do want kids. Very much so. But I’ve never just wanted to be alone when I raise a family. I want everything that family is - waking up next to the person I love every day. Watching the woman I love grow bigger with our child. Being there when she’s in labor. Being there for the first steps. Being there as we grow old together and our child grows up. That’s what I meant when I told Jeff I wanted a family. I just never articulated that because there was no need.”
I felt the tears welling up in my eyes, a small spark of hope renewing in my chest. If he wants a family, does that mean he wants… me?
“Tori, I… I’ve wanted a family - the real thing - since I laid eyes on you. The whole shebang. I want to fight with you, I want to order takeout and snuggle on the couch with you. I want to rub your feet when you get pregnant. I want to be the one to hold you tight if you don’t get pregnant. I want to support you in your career. I want to watch you get undressed every night. I want to fall asleep between your thighs. I want to be yours. And I want you to be mine.”
He was staring at me, his eyes shifting from the floor to meet my gaze. I couldn’t even say anything; I didn’t know which words would mean anything in that moment. So we just stared at each other over my ancient coffee table, our eyes caressing each other softly.
After a few beats, Wyatt leaned forward more in his seat and strengthened his gaze on my eyes. “Tori, I need you to know that I made the move on you on your birthday not because you said you wanted a baby, but because it was the only way I saw myself having a chance with you. I’ve wanted to be with you from Day 1, you know that. The baby would be a bonus, an amazing cherry on top. But you’re the one that I want. You’re who I want to be with.”
He took a cleansing breath, shaking as he brushed his hair back from his face. He roughly scrubbed his cheeks and eyes, clearly agitated by my lack of response. He waited a few more beats and then stood, looking even more panicked and unclear than when he leapt out of his car.
“Sh-should I go?” he asked, looking like his heart was going to shatter right in front of me if I said yes. I took a deep breath myself and stood up, shaking my long, tangled hair out of my face.
“No, Wyatt. I want you to stay. And…,” I cut myself off, not sure if I wanted to make myself more vulnerable. But I committed and continued, “And I want you, too, Wyatt. Very much so,” I breathed and found myself moving towards him without thought. He saw my motion and met me halfway, dragging me into his arms roughly. My poncho met his button-up and I felt our two personalities, our two worlds, colliding a bit as we held each other. This feels like home, I thought as we embraced for a handful of cherished moments.
Wyatt pulled back from me to look me in the eyes, the prior tension and anxiety in his face gone - erased by the pure joy I saw there now. His sparkling blue eyes put the clearest ocean water to shame and I couldn’t help but think I hope the baby has his eyes. I considered telling him about the news but, before I could speak, Wyatt grasped my face in his rough hands and his mouth was on mine before I could even take a breath. Screw breathing, this is better than air.
We fell into each other with the practiced rhythm of a couple with much more history than we had and I couldn’t help but smile. Maybe we’re meant for this. Wyatt’s tongue was hot in my mouth and he was massaging my neck and scalp with his hands, tangling them in my hair as he went. My hands moved from his ears to his jaw to his neck, trailing over his biceps and forearms before moving to his chest. The heat of his mouth had become scorching and I could only think about making contact with his skin to cool myself off.
As I started to unbutton his shirt, he stopped kissing me to look down at me through his thick, golden lashes. “Are you sure? We don’t have to. I… I want to show you that it’s not just about this. It’s about you,” he finished, stroking his hands lovingly up my back and over my arms. I smiled seductively, feeling the self-esteem I left behind at Jeff’s admissions come back to me.
“Well, there is more than one way to show me that it’s about me,” I giggled as I pulled him by the arms through my kitchen. I walked backwards and moved my hands back to his buttons, his old swagger returning for a second - that same swagger that landed us in the country club bathroom just a few weeks ago. God, so much has changed! I briefly wondered what else would change in the coming months but returned to the present as I got my first glimpse of the wonder that was Wyatt’s body.