She remembered her mother's unending parade of boyfriends and husbands. All of them mistreated her mother in some way or another, often physically. She didn't seem to know how to stand up for herself, when to say enough, yet when it came to protecting Mel, she was fierce. Mel remembered when one of them came after her. She couldn't have been more than ten or eleven. She remembered standing frozen in place, too frightened to even shield her face as he approached her with an open palm, arm in mid-swing. She closed her eyes, waiting for the impact, then she heard a thud and opened her eyes to find him kneeling on the floor, stunned and bleeding from his head, and her mother hovering over him with a baseball bat.
She hadn't been a great mother, but she had kept Mel safe.
Despite having finally learned that it was socially unacceptable, Mel had been so used to the idea of men hitting that when she'd started seeing Ash she'd always been on guard, waiting for the arm to swing. But after six months or so, when he hadn't so much as raised his voice to her, she'd realized that he would never hurt her. Not physically anyway.
When she admitted that to Ash, instead of being insulted, he looked profoundly sad. They lay in bed after making love and talked about it. About what her life had been like as a child, how most of her memories were shrouded in fear and insecurity. And as she opened up to him, Ash miraculously began to do the same.
She recalled enough to know that their relationship had never been about love, and that for those three years they had been little more than roommates. Roommates who had sex. She couldn't help but feel ashamed that she had compromised herself for so long, that she hadn't insisted on better. But they were in a real relationship now. They had a future. They talked and laughed and spent time together. They saw movies and had picnics and took walks on the shore. They were a couple.
He didn't care that her hair was usually a mess and her clothes didn't cling. Or that she'd stopped going to the gym and lost all those pretty muscles and curves she'd worked so hard to maintain, and now was almost as scrawny as she'd been in high school. Less is more, he had said affectionately when she'd complained that she had no hips and her butt had disappeared. He didn't even miss the push-up bras, although he knew damn well if that had been a prerequisite to the relationship she probably would have walked.
He even forgave her for all the orgasms she had faked, during sex she didn't want but had anyway, because she was so afraid of disappointing him. And she was humbled to learn that there were many nights when he would have been happy to forgo the sex and watch a movie instead. He made her promise that she would never have sex if she didn't want to, and she swore to him that she would never fake an orgasm again. He promised that she would never need to, and in the weeks that passed, she didn't.
Despite all the talking they had done, there was still one thing that they hadn't discussed, something she had been afraid to bring up. Because as close as they had grown, there was still that little girl inside who was afraid to disappoint him. But she knew she had waited long enough, and one morning at breakfast, over eggs and toast, he gave her the perfect segue.
"Since your memory is almost completely back now, have you considered when you'll go back to school?" he asked.
She was suddenly so nervous that the juice she was drinking got caught in her throat. It was now or never.
"Not really," she said, then thought, Come on, Mel, be brave. Just tell him the truth. "The thing is, I don't want to go back. I don't want to be a lawyer."
He shrugged and said, "Okay," then he took a drink of his juice and went back to eating.
She was so stunned her mouth actually fell open. All that worrying, all the agonizing she had done over this, and all he had to say was okay?
She set her fork down beside her plate. "Is that it?"
He looked up from the toast he was spreading jam on. "Is what it?"
"I say I don't want to be a lawyer and all you say is okay?"
He shrugged. "What do you want me to say?"
"After you spent all that money on law-school tuition, doesn't it upset you that I'm just going to throw my education away?"
"Not really. An education isn't worth much if you aren't happy in what you're doing."
If she had known he would be so understanding she would have told him the truth months and months ago. She thought of all the time she had wasted on a career path that had been going nowhere. If only she'd had the courage to open up to him.
"Do you have any idea what you might want to do?" he asked.
The million-dollar question.
"I think so."
When she didn't elaborate he said, "Would you like to tell me?"
She fidgeted with her toast, eyes on her plate. "I was thinking, maybe I can stay home for a while."
"That's fine. It isn't like you need to work."
"Maybe I could do something here, instead of an outside job."
"Like a home business?"
"Sort of." Just say it, Mel. Spit it out. "But one that involves things like midnight feedings and diaper changes."
He brow dipped low. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Mel, you know I can't-"
"I know. I do. But there's always artificial means. Or even adoption. And I don't mean right now. I would want us to be married first." He opened his mouth to say something but she held up a hand to stop him. "I know we haven't discussed anything definite, or made plans, and I'm not trying to rush things. I swear. I just wanted to sort of … put it out there, you know, to make sure we're on the same page."
"I didn't know you wanted kids."
"I didn't either. Not till recently. I always told myself I would never want to put a kid through what I went through. I guess I just assumed I would have a life like my mom's. It never occurred to me that I would ever meet someone like you."
A faint smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, but he hid it behind a serious look. "How many kids are we talking about?"
Her heart leaped up and lodged somewhere in her throat. At least he was willing to discuss it. "One or two. Or maybe three."
He raised a brow.
"Or just two."
After a pause he said, "And this is something you really want?"
She bit her lip and nodded. "I really do."
There was another long pause, and for a second she was afraid he would say no. Not just afraid. She was terrified. Because this could be a deal breaker. She wanted a family. It was all she'd been able to think about lately.
"Well," he finally said. "I guess one of each would be okay."
By the time the last word left his mouth she was already around the table and in his lap with her arms around his neck. "Thank you!"
He laughed and hugged her. "But not until we're married, and you know I don't want to rush into anything."
"I know." They could hardly call three years rushing, but she knew Ash had trust issues. After his own cancer, then losing his mother to the disease, he'd had a hard time letting himself get close to people, then when he finally did, and married his wife, she had betrayed him in the worst way possible.
But Ash had to know by now that she would never do that to him. She loved him, and she knew that he loved her, even if he hadn't said the words yet.
It was a big step for him, but she knew if she was patient he would come around.
Fourteen
Ash sat at his desk at work, still smiling to himself about the irony of Mel's timing. Funny that she would pick today to finally broach the marriage and kids subject, when tonight he planned to take her out for a romantic dinner, followed by a stroll by the water, where, at sunset, he would drop down on one knee and ask her to marry him.
He hoped that if she had even the slightest suspicion of his intentions, he had dispelled that when he pretended not to be sure about wanting kids. Although admittedly, until recently anyway, he hadn't even considered it. He'd never planned to get tied down again, so it had just naturally never entered his mind. And his ex had never expressed a desire for children.
Now he knew, if they were his and Mel's, his life would never be complete without them. Natural or adopted.
He opened his top drawer, pulled out the ring box and flipped the top up. It wasn't as flashy as the ring he'd given his ex. The stone was smaller and the setting more traditional, but after Mel confessed how much she had disliked the ring for their fake engagement, he knew she would love this one. A sturdy ring, the jeweler had told him, one that would hold up through diaper changes and baby baths and dirty laundry. And with any luck that would be the scene at their condo for the next several years.
There was a knock on his office door. Ash closed the ring box and set it back in his drawer just as Gavin Spencer stuck his head in. "Am I bothering you?"