Free Hens Reunited by Lucy Diamond Page A

want to be together. Make some vows. Make a commitment.’
    She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t explain why the word ‘commitment’ gave her the urge to run for the hills. It wasn’t as if she wanted to be back in the singles scene or anything – God, no thanks! – but somehow, being an unmarried couple felt freer than being a married couple. Commitment brought to mind his and hers dressing gowns, monogrammed with their initials on the pocket, hanging together on the back of the bedroom door. She didn’t want a uniform his and hers anything. She didn’t want ‘’til death do us part’. She wanted to hold back, keep some independence.
    ‘Steve, I . . .’ The words failed her. ‘You are so lovely, to have thought all this up, planned everything so brilliantly.’
    He raised an eyebrow. ‘I sense a but coming,’ he said.
    She managed a weak smile. ‘ And ,’ she went on, ‘I’m flattered that you feel that way – really, I am. But commitment doesn’t have to be about spending thousands of pounds on penguin suits and a meringue dress, and a buffet for Great-Aunt Edna and all those weird relatives you never see, and . . .’
    ‘No, I agree,’ he interrupted. ‘It doesn’t have to be those things at all.’
    ‘ . . . and it doesn’t even need to be official,’ she went on, sensing that he was misreading her point on purpose. ‘Commitment can be about us living together, owning a house together, sharing our lives, supporting and loving one another.’
    He nodded. ‘Sounds like a vow to me,’ he said.
    ‘Well . . . what I’m trying to say is . . .’
    He put a hand on hers. ‘I know what you’re trying to say,’ he put in. ‘But it’s not just about getting married or not. How do you feel about having kids, for instance? We’ve never really talked about that.’
    Oh Christ, thought Katie. He was really wheeling out the big guns for this conversation. ‘No, we haven’t,’ she replied cautiously, trying to buy herself some time. Damn right, they hadn’t – and deliberately so, for her part. She swallowed. ‘How . . . how do you feel about having kids, then?’
    ‘I’d love to have kids,’ he said simply. ‘Our kids. I’d love to be a dad. I’ve always assumed I would be.’ He was smiling as he looked at her, but she couldn’t smile back. ‘And now that I’m with you and we’ve had two really great years together, well . . . we should start thinking about it. It’s not as if either of us is getting any younger.’
    Katie felt as if she were falling down a deep, deep hole. She could no longer hear what he was saying. She’d always been one for making plans, sure – lesson plans for the term ahead, weekend plans with friends and family, Christmas plans – oh yes, she liked all of those, ticking off lists in her notebook, making spreadsheets on the computer. She was an organized person.
    But life plans . . . marriage and children . . . these were not on the spreadsheet. Not in the notebook, waiting to be neatly ticked off. These were things she had purposely ignored for a long time.
    Steve had stopped talking. This was obviously her cue. But what should she say?
    ‘Wow,’ she murmured. ‘I . . . I don’t know. This all feels a bit sudden.’
    He put an arm around her back, shuffled along the bed so that he was closer to her. ‘There’s a lot to think about, I know. But the thing is, Kate, we have to make some decisions. Because, to be honest with you, I . . .’ He broke off. ‘This is going to sound really melodramatic, like some kind of ultimatum. It’s not. I’m just laying my cards on the table. If you really really don’t want the same kind of future as I do – I mean, the family life thing – then . . . I need to know. Because it’s important to me.’
    She felt as if her breath had been sucked out of her. Bloody hell. Not an ultimatum? It sure as hell sounded like one. His cards were on the table all right, facing up for the world to see: King, Queen and three