Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“You’ve had a wedding before, but you’ve never married me before.” His blue eyes could be so breathtaking sometimes, like now when he was all serious and intense. “This one is gonna last—until I die.”
I only had a handful of friends and no family, so the number of people on my side would be minimal. But Bastien was right. The guest list didn’t matter.
“The only thing I want, the only thing I won’t compromise on, is seeing you in a wedding dress. I want you to take my name as your own. Then I want to take off that dress and leave it on my bedroom floor. Our bedroom floor. As long as I have those things, I’ll be happy. You can decide everything else.”
He hadn’t struck me as a romantic guy when we’d met, but he was by far the most romantic man I’d ever been with. “Last time I saw Adrien, I told him I was going to marry you. Then you asked me just a couple hours later.”
His eyes didn’t soften like I expected. They turned more possessive, like he was on the verge of taking me to the church and making me his wife at that very moment. “I guess we were both thinking the same thing that night.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Except he’d been thinking about it longer, long enough that he’d had time to buy me a big-ass diamond ring that could knock a man out cold. “Since we’re on this subject, I wanted to ask you about something.”
He stopped eating his dinner, either because he was full and there were only a few pieces left, or this conversation was taking all of his focus. “What is it, sweetheart?”
I hadn’t thought this far in advance, not when everything had happened so fast, not when I’d gone from a heartbroken divorcée to head over heels in love in a matter of seconds. But now, the moment was here, and it was time to face it. “I realize this conversation is premature because I’m not in this headspace right now, but…we should talk about kids.”
He didn’t blink or flinch. Didn’t grow visibly uncomfortable by the subject.
Adrien had always dragged his feet on it. Anytime I mentioned it, he looked like he would have a full-on panic attack. But now, that was a blessing because I wouldn’t have wanted to have kids with such a lying, spineless man. Now, Bastien…I would love to have his babies. Especially if they had his eyes… Oh lord help me.
After a beat, Bastien spoke. “We can have them if you want them.”
“But how do you feel about it?”
“Do I look like the dad type?” he asked somewhat coldly. “It’s not on my agenda. But if you want a family, just tell me when and I’ll step up.”
He didn’t shy away from the topic, fully cooperative. I should be grateful, but I hoped to have a husband who wanted to be a father. But I couldn’t ask him to want something he didn’t, to be a different person than he was. “May I ask why?”
“Why I prefer not to have them?” he asked with slight incredulity. “For starters, my line of work is not ideal for raising a kid. I sleep during the day, I’m gone at night. If I show up to a parent-teacher conference, everyone will shit themselves. And my childhood was a shitshow of trauma and violence, so I don’t know a damn thing about creating a warm, nurturing environment for a child to thrive.” He cocked his head. “You know what the last thing my father said to me was before he died?” His voice was different—angry but contained at the same time.
It hurt me to listen to all of this because I could see his pain in his eyes, hear the unspent rage that burned in an inferno inside his chest. He commanded a room with his confidence, but inside, he was broken like the rest of us.
“He said I was—and I fucking quote—a worthless son I wish I’d never had.”
I inhaled a painful breath, killed the tears before they had the chance to start. It hurt to picture that exchange, to picture anyone saying that to someone I loved so much. His mother was so loving, so motherly, and it was hard to imagine having a father who was such a fucking prick.
“Not only do I have no desire to be a parent, I’m also unfit for the job.”
I needed a second to process what he said, to accept his heartbreak with a straight face. “I’m sorry that happened—”
“Don’t pity me. I’m a grown-ass man who doesn’t need sympathy.”
It was as if his confession in bed had never happened, his vulnerability long gone. “It’s not pity or sympathy.”
“Whatever it is, I don’t fucking want it.” He turned vicious, treating me like I was some asshole who’d crossed him rather than his fiancée.