Chapter Twenty-Six

December 4, 2024

Jacob watched as Reeva fiddled with the loose threads on her sweater, the faint smile on her lips a little too forced. They were sitting at the small, round table in the corner of the café, the soft hum of conversation and the clink of coffee cups in the background.

The air was thick with the scent of roasted coffee beans and the rich sweetness of pastries, but at that moment, it all felt distant, like a soundtrack to a scene that Jacob was only half a part of.

He'd known Reeva long enough to read her subtle cues, the way her eyes drifted off to the side when she was deep in thought, or the slight furrow of her brows when something was weighing on her.

Right now, she was in that rare, reflective state. Jacob had learned to respect it — it was the quiet space she'd often retreat to when she needed to process. But today, he needed to break through it.

"Reeva," Jacob started, his voice gentle but purposeful, "how do you feel about Kayla being pregnant?"

She blinked and looked up at him, her eyes wide for a moment before softening. A nervous laugh escaped her, the kind that always meant she was trying to find the right words. "I'm happy for her. I just know that when it's my turn, I want to be married."

The weight of her statement hung in the air, unspoken and heavy. Jacob shifted in his seat, trying to mask the sudden swirl of emotions that surged in his chest. The idea of marriage had always been something he'd quietly associated with a future that felt far off, somewhere in the realm of dreamlike someday. But the way Reeva said it made it real, a tangible thing that existed in the space between them.

"Oh, you wanna get married?" he asked, half-joking, but his eyes were serious. He wanted to know what she meant, how she saw their future, and if there was a place in it for him.

"Of course," Reeva said, her voice steady, but there was a tremor underneath. "I want to have that moment, you know? Where it's not just about the relationship or being parents, but about choosing each other in front of everyone who matters. I want that commitment, that promise."

Jacob let her words settle in his mind. She wanted more than just a partnership; she wanted the ceremony, the vows, the people gathered to witness their love. He couldn't blame her. There was something beautiful about the idea of standing in front of friends and family, swearing to be faithful, to love, and to face life's messes together. But for Jacob, marriage had always felt like a concept tied to a version of himself that was still just a hope, not a reality.

"What about you?" Reeva asked suddenly, cutting through his thoughts. "Do you think about that stuff? About the future?"

Jacob's chest tightened at the question. The truth was, he did think about it. There were moments when he'd catch himself imagining what life would be like if he and Reeva were truly in it together — not just parents sharing the responsibilities of a little one, but a couple whose commitment had been publicly declared. It was a beautiful picture, one he could almost see. But admitting that out loud? That was different. He took a sip of his coffee, the warmth of it helping to steady the rush of thoughts.

"I don't know," he admitted finally. "I guess I do think about it sometimes. But it's always been this vague idea, you know? Something I thought I'd figure out later. But seeing Kayla and Zilla... it's making me realize that I need to think about it now."

Reeva's eyes searched his face, and for a moment, he saw her uncertainty reflected back at him. But then she smiled, a small, hopeful smile that made the tension in his chest loosen.

"I think that's good," she said softly. "You should start thinking about what you want, Jacob. Because when it's your turn, I hope you're ready for it."

Her voice wavered on the last words, but Jacob caught the flicker of doubt in her eyes. He wanted to reach across the table and take her hands in his, to reassure her that when the time came, he would be there, ready. But it wasn't that simple, was it? Because he didn't know when that moment would come, or if he'd ever be able to say the words that would make it real.

"Reeva," he said, his voice low, "if I asked you to marry me tomorrow, what would you say?"

The question hung in the air like the scent of rain before a storm. Reeva's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. Jacob watched as she processed the suddenness of it, the implications of what he was saying.

"I'd say yes," she said, the words escaping her in a breathless rush. "But... Jacob, you're not ready for that, and I don't want you to feel pressured. I want it to be right for both of us."

Jacob looked at her, the vulnerability in her words resonating in the stillness between them. "I don't want you to think I'm not serious about this, about us. I just don't know what it means to be ready, you know? But I do know that I don't want to let the idea of us slip away."

Reeva reached for her coffee, her fingers playing with the edge of the cup. "The idea of us is already here, Jacob. It's in the way we look at each other, the way we talk, and the way we're figuring out this whole parenting thing together. That's more real than any wedding ring or piece of paper."

He nodded slowly, taking in her words. There was truth in them, a comfort that calmed the storm in his mind. Maybe they didn't need to rush into anything. Maybe the commitment they had was already stronger than he'd allowed himself to admit. The idea of marriage didn't have to be defined by the traditional path — it could be theirs to shape, however they wanted it.

"Maybe we don't need to have it all figured out right now," Jacob said, his voice softer. "But I do know one thing: if I'm ever going to do it, I want to do it right. I want to be sure, for both of us."

Reeva's eyes met his, and there was an understanding there, an unspoken promise. She knew he was struggling with his fears and doubts, and she wasn't going anywhere. Not today, not ever. And that meant something to him — more than he could say.

"I'm okay with that," she said, and this time, her smile was genuine, reaching her eyes. "As long as we're in this together, I can wait."

The weight in Jacob's chest lifted, the knot of anxiety loosening. For the first time in a long while, he felt like he could breathe. There was no rush, no deadline. They were building something real, something steady. And when the time came, they'd be ready for it.

"Good," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "Because I think I'm starting to get there."

Reeva's eyes softened, and the moment stretched, suspended in time. For a brief second, Jacob allowed himself to picture it — the two of them, older, maybe with another child or two, sitting in the same café and talking about the life they built. He could see it now, the life they could have, and for the first time, the thought didn't scare him. It felt right.

"So," Reeva said with a playful tilt of her head, breaking the silence, "how about we get some dessert? I'm starving."

Jacob chuckled, the sound filling the space between them. "I think that's a great idea."

And as they stood up and made their way to the counter, he felt a quiet certainty settle in his heart. They didn't need to have all the answers. Not yet. But whatever the future held, they would face it together — and that was enough.