chapter 79
1062 Words
CHAPTER 79
DAMIAN
The golf course was quieter than I expected.
The afternoon sun wasn't too harsh, and the breeze made the whole place feel relaxed. I stood beside my golf cart, adjusting my gloves while Angela watched me.
I looked at her.
“Why are you smiling?”
“I have good news.”
“You've been waiting all afternoon to tell me, haven't you?”
“Yes.”
I laughed.
“Then tell me.”
She picked up a club and pretended to study it.
“Benedicta is pregnant.”
My expression changed immediately.
“Really?”
She nodded.
“She found out yesterday.”
“And her husband knows?”
“No.”
I frowned.
“He doesn't?”
“He's out of town. She wants to tell him herself when he gets back.”
I smiled.
“That explains why you were so excited.”
“She came to my apartment yesterday just to tell me.”
“You must have been happy.”
“I was.”
I looked at her for a moment.
Then I said casually,
“I want children too.”
She turned toward me.
“You do?”
“Of course.”
I hadn't expected her to sound so surprised.
“How many?”
I laughed.
“You're asking me that seriously?”
“Yes.”
I leaned against the golf cart.
“I don't know. Maybe three.”
“Three?”
“Too many?”
“Yes.”
I smiled.
“Two?”
“That's better.”
“What about you?”
She looked across the green.
“I want children too.”
I turned toward her.
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
She hesitated for a moment before answering.
“Three.”
“Three?”
She nodded.
“I've always wanted three children.”
I studied her face.
“Why three?”
She looked down at the club in her hands.
“Can I tell you a secret?”
“Of course.”
She took a quiet breath.
“The reason I'm making so much money isn't just because I want success or a comfortable life.”
I waited.
“It's because I want my children to enjoy life to the fullest. I want to give them opportunities, take them places, and make sure they never have to worry about the things I worried about.”
Her voice softened.
“That sounds like a good reason.”
“It is important to me.”
I reached for her hand.
“And you really want three?”
She smiled faintly.
“Yes. Three children. Not two, and definitely not one.”
I laughed.
“You've thought about this very carefully.”
“I have.”
“What kind of mother would you be?”
She looked at me.
“I know the kind of mother I would be. I would be a kind mother, not a harsh one. I would love my children more than anything in the world. That's why I can't get pregnant out of wedlock.”
I studied her face, realizing how deeply she meant every word.
“You've thought about that too.”
“Yes. I want my children to be born into a proper marriage and a loving home.”
“Fair enough.”
I picked up my club.
“I think I'd be a good father.”
“You think?”
“I know.”
She laughed.
“Very confident.”
“I'd teach them golf.”
“They'd probably hate you.”
“Then I'll teach them something else.”
“Like what?”
I thought about it.
“How to drive.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why?”
“Because I don't want three teenagers driving your cars.”
I laughed.
“So you've already decided they're teenagers?”
“I didn't say that.”
“You just did.”
She shook her head.
“You're impossible.”
I stepped closer.
“And you'd be strict.”
“Probably.”
“Very strict?”
“Maybe.”
I nodded.
“I can already imagine it.”
“What?”
“You telling them to stop running in the house.”
“I would.”
“And me telling them to leave you alone.”
She smiled.
“You'd spoil them.”
“Definitely.”
We started walking toward the first hole.
After a few steps, I glanced at her.
“What would you want?”
“For the children?”
I nodded.
She thought about it.
“A peaceful home.”
My expression softened.
“Anything else?”
“I'd want them to feel safe.”
“Safe?”
“Yes.”
She looked ahead.
“I'd want them to know they can talk to us about anything. I wouldn't want them to be afraid of coming home.”
I was quiet for a moment.
Then I said,
“I'd want that too.”
We reached the tee.
I handed her a club.
“Your turn.”
She looked at it.
“I don't know what I'm doing.”
“I'll show you.”
I stepped behind her and adjusted her hands on the club.
“Like this.”
She glanced over her shoulder.
“You're enjoying this.”
“A little.”
“Why?”
“Because you're terrible at golf.”
She turned around.
“I haven't even tried.”
“Exactly.”
She hit the ball.
It rolled a short distance before stopping.
I stared at it.
Then at her.
She stared back.
“Don't.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“You were about to.”
I laughed.
“That was impressive.”
“Thank you.”
“I meant impressively bad.”
She hit my arm.
I laughed harder.
We continued around the course, arguing over her terrible shots and my unnecessary confidence.
But somewhere between the laughter and the teasing, the conversation from earlier stayed in my mind.
Children.
A home.
A future.
I had said it so naturally.
As if it was something I could already see.
Angela wasn't there yet.
I could tell.
But when I looked at her, I realized something.
For the first time, the idea of a future with her didn't feel impossible.
It only felt uncertain.
And maybe uncertainty wasn't the same thing as fear.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD