Sam folded her arms in defense against the gamut of emotions storming around inside her. “He mentioned a new treatment for endometriosis. Surgery that’s been apparently yielding great results.”

“And you’re going to try it?”

“I don’t know! I just heard about it today.”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“Because! You have no idea how awful it was to go through three miscarriages. I thought this door was closed to me, and I’ve made peace with that. Now there’s this tiny little crack, letting it all in again.” She looked up at him. “I don’t know if I’d survive if it happened again, Nick.”

He dropped to his knees in front of her. “Then don’t do it. Close the door, put the lock on and we’ll go on with our lives as if we never heard about this. When we’re ready, we’ll adopt or hire a surrogate. Whatever we have to do.”

Astounded, she stared at him. “You’d do that? Even if it might be possible for us to have our own?”

“I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again—how we have them doesn’t matter one bit to me. That we have them—someday—that’s what matters. As long as we’re on the same page there, the rest is details to me.”

Once again, she said a silent prayer of thanks to whatever higher power had arranged to have their paths cross again, years after they first met and connected on every possible level. He always knew just what to say to her, just what she needed to hear. “It’s all I can think about,” she confessed. “That I could have what Harry calls a simple surgery and then maybe…”

“Were you going to tell me?”

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up only to see them crushed when it doesn’t work out. And it is crushing. Take my word for it.”

“I can’t even imagine. But I can’t help but remember what you said before.”

“What?”

He shook his head. “Never mind. I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you, because I meant it when I said it doesn’t matter to me if they’re our biological children.”

“Tell me anyway.”

After another moment of hesitation, he said, “It’s just what you said, about what kind of people we’re going to be. Are we going to do what’s easy or are we going to take some chances?”

Sam released a jagged deep breath. “We’re not talking about a job, Nick. This is much different.”

“Is it? Is it really?”

“So you’re only saying you’d be okay adopting?”