I'd dropped the subject of not wanting children after she ran to the toilet and started vomiting. Monica was clearly in no state to talk about anything, especially anything like that. I couldn't believe all it took was a couple of drinks to have her pretty much inebriated. It made me curious as to how much she'd had when she went out with Marcella that night. The same night that Carter had carried her in his arms.

She snuggles into my body as I think about the events that had played out after that night. She forgave me. She trusted me. And you betrayed her trust by keeping your biggest secret from her, the reason why you were even there. Then told her about it while buried deep inside of her, nothing in between the two of you. Right. And here I am telling her I don't want kids with her while doing the exact thing it takes to create them. You're an asshole. I know.

Guilt pummels through me like the kool-aid man does a brick wall. I told her not to take the safe route. I told her to take a chance on me. I told her to walk to the beat of her own drum and live her life differently, to leave her boyfriend and choose me.

And for what?

Carter is the quintessential all-American poster child of what you'd want in your genetics. He's fit. Tall. Can play every sport there is to play with ease. I suppose I could see how people would find him attractive. He may not have it all in the academic department, and may be a bit of a dick, but mixed with Monica's genes, I'm sure neither of those things would be an issue. I'm sure the two of them would make smart, healthy, and beautiful children.

Her and I would not.

Our children would no doubt be beautiful, yes, and smart for sure. But athletically inclined, probably not because they'd probably end up with my malfunction. Not to say that I don't stay fit but I can't do things like track and if I had to run for my life my heart would probably give out mid-sprint.

Fuck my life.

Monica rolls slightly out of my arms and I am thankful for it because I feel like I'm either going to punch my pillow to death or cry like a thirteen-year-old school girl. Well, more like a fifteen-year-old school boy finding out his heart is failing him. This time the heart failure is entirely different. My heart is breaking for the girl beside me for loving me and I feel like a failure.

You should've fucking told her. You should've fucking told her. You should've fucking told her.

No, I should've never asked her to come with me. I should've never asked her to alter her course for me. Her course had been good, healthy. Like her brother had said, all I did was come in and stir up the shit pot because I didn't care where I was going. Because I didn't know how much longer I had left.

You still don't know.

But Monica has her entire life. A whole-ass future. One that should involve things I can't give her. I won't create kids just to die on them, to traumatize them. I can't fucking do that. I won't fucking do that.

I throw my legs over the bed and place elbows on my knees with my head in my hands. "What the fuck have I done?" Fallen head over heels for the girl in the bed next to you and simultaneously robbed her of the things she wanted because you're selfish. "Fuck. Fuck fuck fuuuuck."

"Boston?" I slide my hands down my face and scrub them over it harshly before running my hands through my hair. "You alright?" I grip the roots tightly at her words.

"Fine," I manage to say the word as normally as I can. "I just have a bit of a headache is all. Too much to drink last night."

"Oh God, I knoooow." Her voice is groggy and laced with irritation. "Me too. My head is pounding."

"Well yeah, you threw up. Should probably drink the water on the nightstand. I left some pain reliever there for you too." I stand up, not looking at the bed as I make my way out of the room with, "I need to call the shop then I'll whip us up some breakfast. Sound good?"

"Yeah, if I can stomach anything," she laughs.

I bob my head as I leave the room, not responding verbally because I feel the same way. I'd make breakfast but I doubt I could hardly stomach any of it. Not with the thoughts going on throughout my skull.

✩✩✩

I watch my client walk out, she looks satisfied with the work but probably not satisfied with my attitude. Probably not satisfied that I'd refused her phone number too. She'd loved my work, been a fan for a while, apparently, and finally made the decision to have me ink her. It was a sweet notion, a fangirl and all, but I wasn't in the mood for any of that behavior after Monica had left.

The girl had subtly flirted with me the duration of her tattoo, one that was on her upper thigh. Usually I'd be playful back, not that I'd mean anything by it. The behavior was harmless really because it would always end up with me telling them I was flattered but had a girlfriend. Don't want to piss off the people paying your bills and all.

Girls are attracted to me, I'm used to it. I know I have good looks. I know certain girls are into that bad boy, covered in ink look, and don't know how to act in front of me. I've gotten it a lot. But this girl was a bit excessive and at the end of it all I'd basically said thanks but no thanks. I wasn't interested.

I don't know why I'd chosen to shut her down so harshly. I usually tried to be charming, a gentleman when shutting girls down in their advances. I just didn't have the patience for it these days.

There is only one girl I want to be with and she doesn't see me as just Boston Rearick, son of the wealthy business mogul, Rhoen Rearick. I'm not just a hot tattoo artist. I'm not just some rich dude who owns his own shop and nice shit. I'm just Boston— the guy she fell in love with. Boston— the guy who can't give her what she wants. No money can buy something I can't give.

"So you've been way fucking off for the last two weeks." Vikki leans against the doorframe to my workspace. "I noticed that you've not been your usual ravishing self with ladies. Something to do with the missus?"

I let out a sardonic laugh at that with, "yeah, something like that."

"No, legitimately, Bos, what's bothering you? You have not been yourself in the least."

I peel off my gloves and throw them in the trash, "I think I may have fucked up big time with Monica."

"Well, I'd ask if you put your dick in someone else but I'd say that's unlikely."

I glare at her. "Do I really seem like the fucking type that would do that, Vik?"

"Not particularly. I just thought that with the way you've been treating anyone who throws a flirtatious glance your way, maybe something happened. Maybe your girl got jealous and you're proactively thwarting away all advances." She shrugs when I give her a look that asks if she's actually fucking serious. "You know after those pictures came out with Louisa all over you in the press I'd bet she got jealous."

"She already knew about them. She'd seen them."

"And you sorted it?" I nod my head before standing up off of the stool. "So then what's wrong in paradise? The two of you appeared to be over the moon, head over heels for each other when the two of you were here together. If she's not mad or jealous—" she cocks her head to the side, "then are you the one that's jealous?"

"I don't know if jealous is the right word." I cross my arms over my chest as I contemplate my exact feelings. "Maybe I feel, I don't know, just, inadequate or something. Like I can't be enough for her."

She scoffs, "the Boston Rearick, tattoo extraordinaire, the next fucking Picasso over here, not good enough for someone? The audacity of any woman who would think that!" I know she's joking but I'm not in a fucking comical mood right now. "Jesus, it's that serious, is it?"

"She wants to have kids."

"Fucking hell!" Her eyes look like they're going to fall out off her face. "I thought things were already moving ridiculously fast for the two of you. I mean for fuck's sake, she should graduate and maybe tie the knot with you first, am I right?" I purse my lips and look away from her, feeling like the impulsive idiot that I am. "Right?" I begin assorting my already organized inks. "You didn't. You. Did. Not. Do not tell me the two of you got married."

"Alright, I won't tell you, then."

"I thought you said she was a smart girl? What's she doing getting married to the likes of someone like you?"

I grit my jaw and push my hand threw my hair, gripping it angrily before answering, "you know that's a really good fucking question. One I've been continuously asking myself."

"Shit, mate, I didn't mean it like that. I didn't know things were this serious. She's nineteen and you're not even twenty-one yet. What does she expect from you? Not to mention the fact that she knows your condition and knows you don't want to have kids."

"Yeah, now she does."

She walks forward, getting directly in front of me before dipping her head incredulously, "come again? Did you just say that now she knows. As in, she hasn't known this entire time? Tell me she knew before the two of you just up and got married."

"No. She didn't."

"You're a bloody prick for that, Bos. She deserved to know. Did you know she wanted kids in the future?"

"Yeah."

"And you married her anyway, knowing she didn't know about probably the most important aspect of your life, and also knowing she wanted a family?"

I lean against the table and put both of my hands over my face, "that's what I'm saying, I fucked up, Vik. I fucked up bad. The only person who has loved me without knowing what I had financially, or that aspect of my life, might not want to be with me due to the fact I don't want to give her the one thing money can't buy."

"Money can buy a child."

"Not mine."

"You wouldn't rethink the idea?" I shake my head no to her. "Why not, then?"

"Even if we were to adopt, it would still be with me. Even without the possibility of my defect, I would still be the father. Still have the potential of dying whenever. Just leaving Monica and a baby by themselves? I can't fucking do that. I won't. That's not fair to her, not fair to the child either."

"It also wasn't fair to hide what you did from her because you've made her want that future with you already. She's already pictured it and now you're taking that picture away from her. Regardless of the fact you can't and won't, you've still managed to rob her of it."

"I'm afraid I'm going to lose her, Vik."

She shakes her head and gives me a sad smile, "yeah, I'd be afraid too."

A/N:
Are you afraid too?

Hope you're all enjoying the book!
I was wondering if any of you are on discord and if you'd be interested in me making a server for us all to chat. You could ask questions and talk to me directly if I were to do this.
Let me know what you think!