My eyes widen. “Are we?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh… I still want to get married.” I mean, sure, I’m okay with things right now, but I want the ring, the husband, and the kids. Not today, but definitely within the next few years. I’m not getting any younger, and at almost thirty, I hear my clock ticking a little louder each day. Plus I want to be married and enjoy that for a bit before having kids.

“Marriage is just a piece of paper.” The statement, his tone, and the look in his eyes, which hold no humor, catch me off guard. While he’s not wrong—it is a piece of paper—it’s also a whole lot more than that. At least to me.

“Okay, but I’d also like to have the same last name as my kids.”

“What if we never have kids? What’s the point then?”

I study him, wondering if he’s being serious, and I hate that I’m too drunk to tell.

“I want kids though,” I remind him softly, wishing we were alone and that we didn’t have an audience for this conversation.

“What if I don’t want kids?”

“But you do.” I search his blue eyes. “Right?”

“I don’t know.” He lifts one bulky shoulder, dropping his gaze from mine. “Kids change things.”

My throat burns. “We talked about getting married and having kids before I moved in with you.”

“I know, but things change.”

“What changed?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs again, and I swear if we were alone and not in a restaurant with our newly engaged friends sitting across from us, I might’ve started screaming. I don’t understand where this is coming from or why he hasn’t said anything before now.

“I think we’re going to take off,” Lynn cuts into my thoughts, and I turn my attention to her. The sympathetic look in her gaze as her eyes scan my face has me wishing the floor would open up and swallow me.

“Of course.” I fight back the tears I feel crawling up my throat while forcing a smile. “We should probably get home too. I have a full calendar tomorrow.” I scoot out of the booth behind Eli when he stands.

“We’ll talk soon,” Lynn whispers as she hugs me, and the tears I can no longer control fill my eyes.

God, I hate crying.

“Yeah.” I let her go and hug Mica with my chin down so he doesn’t see the state I’m in.

As we all leave the restaurant together, I replay what just happened over and over in my head and try to convince myself that I misunderstood Eli, that I took things out of context, as he and I walk down the block to our building in silence. Did I drink too much and misconstrue something?