oversized t-shirt and pajama pants, and we eat at the table in comfortable silence. Perhaps now is the time to break the news about Jax. I explain the text messages Kaelan sent me, and the look on Catalina’s face reflects worry and sadness. I can tell her mind is racing but she only says, “That sucks.”
After brunch, I propose we do some sightseeing, but one glance out the window at the snow shower quickly cancels my plan. So we settle for watching movies, reading, and simply enjoying each other’s company. I can’t believe how exhausted she is as she naps in intervals curled up in my lap. The only time she gets up is to use the bathroom. My Raven Girl looks a little pale and judging by her pained expression, her time of the month is kicking her ass, and then some.
I just can’t wait for her to get past it so that we can resume the closeness I can’t get enough of. I’m dying to taste her, lose myself in her skin and go into reckless abandon. We need to talk about contraception, because I really don’t like using condoms and I have yet to share that with her. I don’t want to sound like a rueful jerk, though, and I know this topic needs to be brought on gently. Clearing my throat, I speak my mind because there isn’t a delicate way to talk about it.
“I think we need to talk about something important,” I begin a little awkwardly.
“What’s up?” Catalina asks, her eyes searching mine.
“We’ve been together for some time now, and I was wondering how you feel about condoms.”
Catalina’s face flushes, but she answers. “I hate them, and I know you do too. Am I wrong?” As I nod in agreement, I’m pretty sure my face is the same shade of red as hers.
“No, you’re not. It’s restricting, but at the same time they’re a necessary evil.”
Catalina nods, and says, “Tell you what. Now is the perfect time to start birth control. We’ll still have to be careful, but I’ll do it if that’s what you want. Though . . .” she trails off. “After the accident, the doctor had to remove one of my ovaries. It’s not to say I can’t bear children, but I was advised getting pregnant again wouldn’t be easy. I have a lot of issues with my plumbing, but it’s not unwise to be safe. Thank you for being considerate in our encounters. It says a lot about you,” Catalina asserts with luminous eyes.
Whoa. I didn’t expect to be saddened by her words, but I am. It hurts to know she has endured so much pain and suffering over the years, and the aftermath of the fatal accident still haunts her to this very day. I want to say something that will comfort her, but the right words don’t surface. Sighing, I kiss her forehead and the dreamer in me takes the conversation one step further.
“How do you feel about kids, Catalina?” I ask earnestly. I don’t really know why I’m even asking that, but I’m curious to know her response.
“To tell you the truth, after losing the baby, my womb felt empty . . . like someone stole something precious from me, but my baby wasn’t the only person I was robbed of. Blake was too, and after his death, I gave up on the idea of love, and on my dreams of becoming a mom. I decided I could help those in need, so I have charities for single moms I donate to on a monthly basis and I’ve volunteered at a woman’s shelter in the city. But to answer your question, motherhood was a dream I always had, but now in my thirties I’m afraid that ship has sailed.”
“Why do you say that, Cat? Women are having kids in their forties nowadays,” I whisper, feeling disheartened. “Why give up so easily?”
Catalina sniffles and raises her head up from my lap. Crossing her arms against her chest, I notice her chin and lips quiver as dew droplets form in the corner of her eyes. Placing my hand over her heart, I feel it drumming furiously.
“Because you don’t know what it’s like to want something so bad and see it ripped from you in the blink of an eye. I wouldn’t call