Everywhere and Every Way(56)

"Has someone hurt you like that before?" he demanded.

"Yes, that's the real reason my ex dumped me."

"That's what you meant by a serious issue," he muttered. He turned and  paced. She waited while he gathered his thoughts. "I don't like you  comparing me to that asshole, Morgan. Dammit, I'm not the type of man to  run at the first challenge we get thrown. I thought you believed in me  more."

"I do believe in you," she whispered. "I just know this has high stakes  for me. I'm being realistic about what I can give you. I've made my  peace with this a while ago, Cal. Sure, sometimes I get angry or feel  depressed, but mostly I love my life. I don't need my own children to be  complete, but I understand if you do. That's not a terrible thing, it's  just a fact. Have you really thought about what I can offer you?"

"We can adopt."

"Yes. If we both want to. But adoption is a long process. It's hard, and  we have to be willing to love another child like our own."

"I can do that."

Something began withering deep inside at his stubbornness. He didn't  want to think of himself as selfish or a man who'd run out on a  relationship when problems arose. But this was bigger than an everyday  problem. This was an important life choice, and politeness wasn't what  she needed right now.

She needed the truth.

Morgan gathered her courage and crossed the room to him. She reached out  and grasped his hands within hers. Jaw clenched, simmering emotions  flickering over his face, he looked like a man who was haunted. And that  wasn't fair to either of them.

"Cal, listen to me. You have to be brutally honest. You owe it to  yourself, and you damn well owe it to me. This has nothing to do with  being a good person, or nice, or standing by your woman. This is about a  life you need to choose. Are you ready to give up on ever having a  child of your own? Or will you regret that choice for the rest of your  life because you were too proud to admit it?"

The silence seemed to shatter like broken glass. He jerked, turning his  face from hers for long precious seconds that told Morgan exactly what  she needed to know.

"I don't know."

The words dropped between them. Coldness seeped into her skin and her  soul. She couldn't blame him. She couldn't even be mad. Morgan had held  on to the last moment, but he'd already made his choice. And though she  understood, there was still a part deep down that felt betrayed because  he didn't love her enough.

"Morgan-"

She bit her lip hard and forced a wavering smile. "No, don't. You think I  don't understand? I do. I don't blame you, either. I just-I just need  to be alone right now."         

     



 

"I don't want to leave like this."

She backed away from him, needing the distance. "We both need some time  apart, Cal. It's been a hell of a week, and I need to organize for the  Rosenthals' arrival. I'll take a rain check on dinner. Can you explain  to Tristan and Dalton?"

"Yes. I still think we should-"

"I have to go." Morgan hurried out of the house like ghosts were chasing  her. And they were. The ghosts of the past, and the ghosts of regrets.  But Morgan had learned early not to play that game, and damned if she  was going to begin thinking less of herself just because Cal couldn't  handle it.

She was worth more than that.

Still, she cried all the way to the hotel.


Cal fumbled for his good bottle of bourbon and poured a quarter of a  glass. Considered. Then poured more till it hit the halfway line.

He needed every drop.

Gandalf and Balin danced around, waiting for their treat, so he got two  out but didn't have the heart to wait till Gandalf played dead. It  reminded him too much of Morgan. The dogs whimpered a bit as he headed  outside but then dragged their treats to their beds. Hunger always  trumped playtime with canines.

He carried his drink out to the front porch and slumped in the rocker.  He felt like shit. Worse than shit. He'd been so eager to spend the  night with her and plan a future. Dreams of a life with Morgan spun in  his head like fluffy cotton candy, fogging reality and a hard truth he  needed to figure out.

He'd just left her. She'd shared this shattering news with him about her  illness and losing her chance to bear children. She'd told him with her  chin up and a glittering resolve in her ocean-blue eyes. God, she was  so strong and brave and beautiful. And he'd walked away because in one  flash of a moment, he'd been terrified she might be right.

Cal never thought about the future with a woman because he was too busy.  When he did, it was misty fragments of a general scene that every  person had. A wife. Children. A house. Careers. Family. Dogs.

There were never any specifics. When Morgan came into his life,  everything narrowed down to a tiny pinpoint of light. Suddenly he had a  focus, because he was positive he'd be spending his life with her. A gut  instinct and driving need beat through this body and soul, guiding him  to his own personal true north.

But there may not be any children in that future. Was he okay making that choice? Would there be regrets?

"Hey. Where's Morgan? When's dinner?"

He glared at Dalton. "Go away. She's not here, and you're not getting dinner."

"Bad day? I'll join you; let me get a beer."

"Would rather be alone right now, thanks anyway." Dalton disappeared and  returned with a Heineken, dropping into the chair beside him. "I told  you I want to be alone."

"Tough shit. It's my house, too. Did you cancel because tomorrow is the big reveal?"

Cal simmered in brooding silence. He had a lot to think about and wasn't in the mood for banter with his brother.

"Uh-oh. Did you guys have a fight? You have that look on your face men get when being dissed by their woman."

Another voice joined Dalton's, and Cal groaned. "Hey, where's dinner? Where's Morgan?"

"We're out here, Tristan!" Dalton called. "Grab your wine and join us. Cal got into a fight with Morgan."

"Son of a bitch," Cal growled. "When did the words leave me alone become code for a chat? I fucking hate heart-to-heart chats."

"Yeah, so do I, but sometimes you need them," Dalton said.

Tristan came out onto the porch and took the third seat. Swirled the  burgundy liquid in his crystal glass. Then stuck his nose in the glass  to take an appreciative sniff before trying a sip. The gesture annoyed  the crap out of Cal. "Why do you have to engage in foreplay with your  liquor? It's ridiculous."

"Not if you're a wine connoisseur," Tristan said mildly. "What was your  fight about? It would probably be best if you just apologized. Then  maybe we can save dinner. Morgan said she was making stuffed pork  chops."

"For God's sake, this isn't an intervention. Morgan decided she had work  to do to get ready for the Rosenthals and decided to get room service.  No big deal. No fight. Let's move on."

Tristan and Dalton shared a glance. "Lie," Dalton announced. "You look  ripped up. Just tell us, Cal. It'll make you feel better."

"Fuck. You're such a pain in my ass." Temper and frustration snapped  through his body, making his fists curl. God, he wanted a fight. A  bruising, exhausting, messy, bloody fistfight to get out all this  aggression. "Fine. I found something out tonight that changed things.  She can't have children."         

     



 

Tristan frowned. "What do you mean? She's infertile? Or she doesn't want kids?"

Cal ground his teeth. "She had cervical cancer when she was eighteen. They had to give her a hysterectomy."

Dalton whistled and shook his head. "That's some bad shit." They  considered his words in silence. "She must've been through hell and  back."

"Yeah," Cal muttered.

"She's special," Tristan said. "What was the fight about, then?"

"That was it. She told me the truth and asked me to make a choice. Told me she wouldn't live with my having regrets."

Tristan looked confused. "So? She can't have kids. That sucks, but there's always adoption. Or not."

Cal shifted in his chair and drank more bourbon. "She asked me straight out if I'd ever have regrets. I told her I don't know."

Dalton gave a long sigh. "And there was the fight."

"You love her, right?" Tristan asked. "Is it the  long-term-I-want-to-marry-her type love? Or more like  this-feels-really-good-and-I-don't-want-it-to-end-but-I-can't-commit  love?"

"The forever kind," Cal admitted. "The get-down-on-bended-knee kind. I  know it's fast, and you probably think I'm crazy, but that's how I feel  about her. But I owe it to both of us to make sure I'm honest. I always  wanted a big family."

"You already have a big family, Cal," Dalton pointed out. "You have us.  And Brady and Sydney and Becca. You have Balin and Gandalf. And you may  have kids down the line. But most of all, you get Morgan. Morgan becomes  your family. I guess to me, there's only one choice. Her."