Craved

Chapter 11.

Alison POV. 

How could I not know that he wanted kids? It was another thing to dd to the list of surprises for Isaac Trenton. He doesn’t cease to surprise me, but every surprise takes the floor from underneath my feet. 

He stood a few steps away from me, only a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was drenched and looked considerably darker than usual, curling down his forehead and neck, and f**k was he beautiful… like a roman God and I craved every bit of him. 

I was fine with having unprotected s*x. I could have taken the morning after pill… or stop right before he was about to c*m. I just needed him in that moment and then when he said he wanted kids; my heart sunk. “Zac,” I take a deep breath in. “I don’t want kids,” I finally confess. I could feel a huge weight life off my shoulders.

He takes a step away from me, and I watch as his face is devoid of all emotions. I watch his eyes travel all around the room, focusing on anything but me. I’ve come to realise that it’s something he does when he’s trying to find the right words to say. 

“You do want kids,” he says in an almost broken voice, as if he’s trying to confirm what I’ve just said. 

“I don’t,” I shrug, lightly. I felt as if I was walking on eggshells.

“Why?” he questions, his eyebrows pulling together and his mouth holding firm. 

“Why not?” I defend. “Why have kids in the first place?” 

“f**k, Angel, I don’t know… maybe to bring another person in the world, to extend on our family, and cause… f**k! Maybe the thought of having us combined to make this tiny person makes me so incredibly happy. It fills me with joy to know that one day, you will give birth to someone who looks like you and I will have one more person to completely love unconditionally, because they came from you.” 

His confession makes my heart race and tears peak at my eyes. I didn’t need this right now. 

“I don’t want kids, Zac,” I repeat. “That all sounds beautiful, but I don’t want them.” 

“Why not?” he asks. His eyebrows are further drawn together and there’s an edge to his tone. 

“Okay fine,” I turn to him with my hands on my hips. I’ve had a lot of time to think about this and I was ready with a list. “Because they’re messy and full of germs and we’ll lose sleep, Zac and the thought of you losing sleep kills me. They’re expensive, like so expensive! They cost so much. I don’t have the patience for them-”

“That’s okay, because I’ll be there,” he tries to justify. 

“But you won’t always be,” I continue, counting off the reasons on my hand. “Not to mention, we will lose our freedom, we won’t be able to travel, or go out at night and drink a lot without a care in the world because there’s no one waiting who depends on us. I would have to quit my job at the Bar, which is a job that I love, or simply the fact that we will never be able to just do nothing,” I take a deep breath in, I was rambling my sentences, trying to get my point across. “You don’t realise how nice it is to do nothing until you’re doing things all the time, and kids need constant attention.” 

“Is that it?” he asks. 

“No, actually. Do you want to hear the cherry on top of the cake?” I ask, rhetorically. “I’m the one that’s going to have to push that watermelon out of my v****a, or failing that a caesarean, which just seems like an absolute d**k move on society,” I try and joke, but his face is set and stern. 

I did like kids, but I don’t love them. There was more that I wanted to say about the subject, but I knew that I had gotten my point across. 

“I like kids, Zac, I do,” I shrug. “I just don’t like them enough to have one of my own.” 

We stare at each other in silence, only the sound of me catching was breath was audible. 

He has a defeated look on his face, one that I haven’t seen before. It was a look that seemed like he had given up hope, but on what, I did not know. Tears were already threatening my eyes and I walk towards him, standing in front of him and grabbing his hands. 

“This doesn’t change anything, Zac.” I could feel myself panic. “I love you more than anything, and I want to be with you,” I try and say but my voice gives up halfway through and I begin crying. 

“Please don’t. Don’t,” he tries to comfort me and pulls me into his chest. My palms are against my eyes and I press my face against his chest, allowing him to completely engulf me in his arms. His lips touch the top of my head and I can feel his warm breath on my scalp. 

“How I feel for you hasn’t changed,” he says, softly. “I just always imagined myself having children one day. I imagined myself holding them in the air, pushing them on the swings, teaching them to ride a bike… and so much more.”

I cry for the second time today. His chest was still wet from the shower and I could feel droplets on my shoulders. 

“I want to marry you,” he whispers, and all of my breath is sucked out of my body. I lean back only to look at him in his face as tears continue to pour down my face. His hands cup either side of my face and he uses his thumb to wipe away the remaining tears there.

“I want to marry you, and have children with you, and grow old together taking care of them… that’s how I want to spend my life with you.”

“Stop, stop, stop,” I whisper, shaking my head. I needed him to stop. I couldn’t hear this.  I cover his mouth with my own hands and see the tears in his own eyes, which only makes me cry harder. 

I move my hands further up on his face, wiping away the tears that fell down his cheeks. 

“Don’t you want that too?” he asks, his voice was soft, yet so full of emotion. “To be with me?” 

“Of course, I want to be with you,” I say, my chest feeling so incredibly heavy. “I am so madly in love with you that it hurts sometimes when I think you.” 

I curl my fingers into his wet hair, pushing it back and watching as he closes his eyes and two perfect tears fall out. 

“I want to build a life with you, but only with you,” I confess.

“Then be with me,” he almost shouts. He leans down so that his face was levelled with mine and his hands held my face a little more firmly. “Just be with me, okay? Let yourself love me.” 

His eyes roam my face and I feel my cheeks heat up under his stare. 

“The first step is just letting yourself love me, and to just be with me completely.” 

“What about children? We can’t just sweep that under the rug.” I wouldn’t budge on the topic. I don’t want kids and that’s final. 

“We can work on that later,” he says, looking disappointed, knowing my thoughts already. “Like I’ve said, Angel, you’re it for me. I don’t want to be with anyone else, ever. You’re the other half to my soul,” he says, whispering the last line. 

You’re the other half to my soul. 

It was perfect for how I felt for him. How to accurately describe how much he means to me. He has become a part of me. The other half of my soul, and I craved for that other half of me to be complete. 

“Just be with me, please,” he begs. The desperation in his eyes is enough to make my legs feel week. “Give us another chance,” he adds. 

I felt as if I was on the plank of a pirate ship, taking step by step until I was at the end, leaping off and plummeting off into God knows what. 

I nod my head, allowing myself to give in to all of the emotions that has built up over the year. 

“Okay,” I whisper. “I want to be with you.”