Eight

"I know children is a deal breaker for some," he says. "I feel like it's better to get that out and in the open first and go from there."

I peer up at him. "Is it strange that I'm okay with not having kids?" I'm surprised by how okay I am with the idea. "Women are expected to want to start a family when they get married, but I never had the desire to. For the longest time I felt ashamed for not wanting children. It doesn't mean I don't like kids, or that I'm too selfish or inadequate to have them. I just never really considered having them, I guess because it wasn't high on my list." I pause, then ask, "Does that bother you?"

"I think people want it both ways. You see the pros and cons and want both. Do I want you to reason with me about having kids so I feel like maybe you do want our child? Yes. I'm a man, and I want you to have my kids, but I’m also relieved you don’t."

I muse over our conversation, my fingers drawing squiggly lines on his chest.

"I want kids, but I don't. I think I'm leaning toward the cool aunt title more than anything, I just don't have any siblings to make me one." I stop and think about Natalie and how she's basically my sister and could make me a cool aunt. But I have a hard time seeing her ever having kids. I chuckle. "I'm trying to picture Natalie with kids. I don't know why it makes me laugh. I feel like kids would run her life, not the other way around."

James grins and rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand. He doesn't realize that I caught the spark in his eyes at the thought of becoming a grandfather. "That'd be something."

I think about it more. Would I feel like I'm missing out on something? As a woman, yes, but as a person, no. Maybe we could just get a dog one day and be dog parents.

Glancing at James's chest, I trace the black lines of the lion's mane with my acrylic nail, pulling on some of his chest hairs. "I don't think I'd feel any sort of loss or longing if I don't have kids. I do a little now, but I think that's because I've accepted what I’ve been thinking about all along. It's just once you actually speak about something, it makes it feel more real than anything."

"Look at me," he says, and I shoot my eyes up to his. I can see the legitimate worry plaguing his eyes. "Tell me you're not going to resent me for not having kids."

I do better. I lean in and give him a hard kiss, then I look at him. James cups my hair and fists it in his hand. "I will not resent you," I say slow and clear. "And if I ever change my mind, I'll tell you."