“Are you sure?” he asked, voice hushed.
“Yes. I have endometriosis, and the doctor told me that coupled with my age… It’s not going to happen.”
“God can do a miracle. I know He can.” There was so much hope on his face, I wanted to cry.
“God does miracles all the time, but that doesn’t mean He’s going to make me able to have children. This is the limitation He’s given me, and I’ve learned to accept it.” Hesitating, I smoothed a few strands of hair behind my ear. “I understand you have a different vision for your future, and I don’t want to hold you back. I should have just told you in the beginning, but no one else knows and it’s not something I talk about.”
“If we pray really hard…”
I couldn’t restrain the tears that were already rolling down my cheeks. Using my napkin, I hastily wiped them from my face and stood, pain washing through me like tiny pieces of glass scraping against my skin. “Excuse me. I need to use the bathroom.” I strode to the other side of the room, needing to get away from him or I would completely lose it.
The lavatory was not where I thought it was, and I had to double back and walk past Clay in the other direction. Normally, I wouldn’t care, but, today, I felt humiliated…as if nothing I did was right. When I finally made it, I was thankful to find the restroom was a single room, not a larger space with multiple stalls. I took a paper towel and wet it at the sink and then wiped my face.
Lord, he’s responding exactly how I thought he would. Why did you let me meet him if you knew it wasn’t going to work out?
There was no answer to that question, and the silence seemed to mock me. I understood that God allowed trials in our lives and sometimes that took the form of specific people. Still, I didn’t want Clay to be one of those people. I wanted more with him.
When we’d met six months ago, I had a strong reaction to the man with the bushy beard and longish hair. At first, I’d seen his frankness and gruff manner as off-putting, but it hadn’t taken long to see the kindness in his heart, and from that moment on, I’d been a goner. He’d won me over, but I shouldn’t have allowed our relationship to progress this far. I’d tried to resist in the beginning, to keep him at arm’s distance, but he’d broken down my walls and made me consider a future with him.
I did my best to give my clients sensible advice, but when it came to myself, I couldn’t think straight around Clay Drover. Closing my eyes, I inhaled a breath and then let it out slowly. I squared my shoulders. Held my head up high and walked back to the table, taking note that he’d already paid the bill. “Thank you for dinner, Clay. Can you drive me home? I’m not up for caroling tonight.”
He nodded and stood to his feet. “If that’s what you want.” He had a resigned expression on his face, the kind a man had when his favorite sports team was about to lose. That, more than anything else, made my stomach turn with nausea. He wouldn’t try to convince me to change my mind because he already knew it was pointless.
We were quiet as he drove me back to the house, neither of us attempting to make conversation. It was torture, but I told myself it would be over soon. When he finally pulled up to the driveway, I cleared my throat.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner. For the rest of my time here, I think it’s wise if we keep our distance. We’ll have to interact at the wedding, of course, but we’re both capable of being civil.”
“This is not what I want.” His voice was cold and distant and he sounded like a completely different person. Not at all like the Clay I’d come to know.
“It’s not what I want either, but—”
“Then don’t break up with me. Have faith that God can do anything.” He took my hand and laced his fingers through mine. “He can give us the children we both want.”
It almost seemed as if he were just saying the words for my benefit. I wasn’t even sure he believed it.
“Are you willing to…” My voice broke, and I inhaled sharply, not able to speak through the intense emotion shooting through my veins.
He waited quietly, patiently, until I was ready.
“Are you willing to…adopt?” I turned hopeful eyes to meet his gaze, feeling as if my entire future hung in the balance.
“I told you before that I’m fine with adopting.”
“But you still want your own biological children.”
He was silent for so long my heart sank. “Well, yes, that’s what I’ve always wanted.”
“Let’s just say we got married, hoping God would heal my body and give us a baby.” I turned to face him. “What if… What if He didn’t? What if He chooses not to bless us with biological children? Will you be okay with that?”
His eyes filled with anguish, and the corners of his lips drooped down. “I don’t know.” He spoke the words so quietly, I almost didn’t hear what he’d said. “You’re asking me to let go of something I’ve wanted my entire life.”
It was as I’d thought. A wave of emotion swept over me, filling me with an urgency to get out of the car. I couldn’t spend one second longer with him or I would start sobbing, and I didn’t want to make him feel guilty.
“I’m not asking you to let go of anything.” I turned to open the
