“No,” I said, shaking my head. “You don’t get it. I’ve told you. This was supposed to happen. You can’t just screw with the order of things.”

“You don’t really believe that shit … about it being your punishment.”

I barely nodded. It sounded crazy when he said it out loud.

“Baby, don’t you think you’ve been punished enough?”

Tears burned my eyes. Without any idea what to expect or any way to prepare, I’d assumed this would be an emotional conversation one way or another.

“You’re already the best thing to ever happen to me. Stop showing off.”

Taylor pulled me in, holding me tight. He kissed my hair.

“What if I told you I don’t want to adopt?” I asked, glad that I didn’t have to look him in the face.

He hesitated. “I’m … surprised.”

“I know you want kids. I don’t want to take that away from you. I’ve had a lot of time to think about this, and I just can’t. I would be too afraid to try to adopt. I’d worry about so many different things, like who gave the baby up and why. What if one of the family members decided to take the child back? I can’t chance losing a child twice. I just … I can’t.”

“I didn’t think about it that way.”

“I know.”

“I understand. I mean … we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

“This is something we need to address now. You want kids. I can’t get pregnant, and I don’t want to adopt. That’s a big deal. We can’t wait and see, Taylor. Then it will be too late.”

“I want you.”

Tears welled up in my eyes. “I want you to think about it for a while.”

“Jesus Christ, Falyn. Do you really think I have to think about it? No. I’m not giving you up. You’re not giving me up.”

My face crumpled, and I shook my head. “That right there tells me you’re not taking this seriously.”

“I hear what you’re offering. My answer is no. If we end up being alone but together, I can think of worse things.”

I sniffed. “This is why moving in together hasn’t felt right. I know better than to let you do this without really thinking it through.”

“But it feels right to bail? Fuck that,” he said, standing. He paced a few times and then came back.

Kneeling in front of me, he tucked his hands behind my lower back and pulled me toward him until my knees were pressing into his bare chest.

He shook his head. “I’m pissed at you for this, and I love you for this. But you have to know that there’s nothing I want more than you.”

“What if you regret it?”

He paled, his face falling. “You said you weren’t bailing. You’re fucking bailing on me. You just want me to be the one to do it.”

“You need to think about this … I mean, really think about it.”

“Why are you really doing this, Falyn? How about you really think about that? It’s getting serious, and alarms are going off. Stop, and think about this for two fucking seconds.”

“We just need a break. If you still feel the same way later …”

“Later? When the fuck is later?”

“Taylor,” I said, watching him get angrier by the second.

“A break. I’m a grown man, Falyn. What is this? You’re putting me in a time-out, so I can think about what you want me to think about, the way you want me to think about it?”

“I know that’s how it looks, but I’m just trying to do the right thing. You might thank me later. I’m not trying to stir up trouble for us. I—”

“Don’t say it. Don’t say it’s because you love me, or I’ll lose my shit.”

He stood up and disappeared into my bedroom. Returning a few minutes later, he wore jeans, socks, and a black fleece pullover with a black-and-gray hat pulled low over his brows, and he bent down to pick his boots off the floor.

“You’re leaving now?” I was a bit surprised and feeling guilty for it.

Of course he was going to leave. What had I expected him to do? What had begun as good intentions was going downhill fast, and I was already regretting it even though moments before I’d thought that I thought it all through.

He pulled on his boots, shoved his dirty clothes into his backpack, and then slid one strap over his shoulder before swiping his keys off the counter. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” he said, holding out his hands. He gripped the knob and then pointed at me. “I’m going to go home, and instead of applying for that job, I’m going to think about this for a week. Then I’m going to come back, and you’re going to apologize to me for fucking up the weekend I’ve been looking forward to for a month.” He yanked the door open, and without looking back, he said, “I love you.”

The door slammed, and I closed my eyes, wincing at the sound. I fell back against the couch cushion and covered my eyes with my hands. Maybe he was right. Maybe I was pushing him away. Now that he was gone, I felt exactly the way Travis had described the first time I went to Eakins. It was like I was dying slowly with a little bit of crazy mixed in.

“I hate you,” I said to myself.

Monday morning, I trudged down the stairs, passing on the pancakes for a cup of coffee. It had been a little more than twenty-four hours since I saw Taylor, but I knew no matter how much time passed, the awful feeling that had come over me the moment he left wouldn’t go away.

The dining area was empty, except for Chuck, Phaedra, and me. Pete and Hector peeked out from the food window.

Phaedra and Chuck had matching expressions of concern.

“Still hasn’t called, huh?” Chuck asked, patting my shoulder.

“He texted late last night,” I said.

“Well?” Phaedra asked. “Good or bad?”

“He’s still thinking.”

“It’s your damn fault,” Phaedra said. “He didn’t ask for an easy out. Sounds to me like he didn’t even want it.”

“Dear,” Chuck said, a hint of warning in his voice.

“She’s right,” I said. “He might not need it, but he does deserve it.”

She grabbed a stack of menus. “Oh, baby girl, he’s been good to you. He didn’t deserve that.” She walked away, clearly angry with me.