of those rare women who has never pictured settling down. But when Anya says it now, it makes me weak in the knees.
Yes, maybe I would like to be a mother.
“Thank you, honey; that is very kind of you to say. I only wish I have a daughter like you someday.”
I give her a kiss on her forehead, and she gives me a hug in return.
“Maybe we can convince Daddy to make you my new mommy,” she says, smiling now.
That makes me laugh, and I tap her nose playfully.
“It doesn’t work like that, but that’s a wonderful thought. It would be an honor for me to be your mommy,” I reply.
I dropped Anya back at their apartment. Trevor was home already, and we barely exchanged words. I’m not sure if he is avoiding me, but I am definitely steering clear of him. All I feel towards him now is utter confusion. I don’t know what to do next. I don’t know how long we can keep this up. I can’t forget about him or the way he controls my body. How good it felt to have him inside me.
I make dinner and eat by myself, then curl up on the couch with a book after a longish phone call with Kim. When there’s a knock on my door, I know instantly who it is.
Trevor is on the other side, armed with the baby monitor like the last time.
“Oh!” I exclaim.
“What did you tell her today?” he speaks in an accusatory voice, and I revert to becoming defensive too.
“What are you talking about?”
“Something about being her mom?”
I feel anxious. My heart is racing in my chest.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset her. She raised the subject of her mother, and I mentioned that she is a great daughter and that I would love to have a child like her someday.”
Trevor eyes me keenly and then steps past me into my apartment. I leave the door open, just in case. I watch as he rakes a hand through his hair, shakes his head like he’s confused.
“After Nicola died, she rarely wanted to talk about her, but lately, she keeps asking me about her. Stories. What she was like. It’s scary because it seems like she’s already forgetting her.”
“She is a child. You can’t expect a child to remember every detail forever. She is bound to forget, but she won’t stop loving her mother, and nobody can replace her. I’m certainly not trying to.”
Trevor looks at me. His eyes are darker, his jaw looks stronger. He doesn’t seem so angry anymore, but I can see there are things bothering him.
“No, of course not, I wasn’t trying to accuse you of that. I just wanted to clarify what your conversation with her was about.”
“Okay,” I say in a softer tone.
He holds my gaze and steps towards me.
“I’ve been thinking about you. I know you’ve been avoiding me, but I can’t get you out of my mind.” He reaches for me, and against my better judgment, I let him graze his fingers across my jaw. My eyelids flutter closed. I love this feeling of him so close to me. My hands go up, pressing on the solid-ness of his chest.
“I’ve been thinking about you too,” I admit, in a voice of defeat.
“What are we going to do about it?” he asks, his eyes glowing with desire.
“I don’t know,” I reply.
Two more days have gone by. Two days of spending all day thinking about Trevor and what the future holds for me, then feverishly fantasizing about being in his bed at night.
At work, it’s hard to not just take the elevator up to his office and throw myself at him. Beg him to take me on his desk.
But it’s complicated. I know we can’t just abandon all caution and spend a few wild nights together when there’s Anya to consider.
So when he knocks on my door tonight and I find him with a bottle of wine in his hand, I’m surprised, to say the least.
“Hi?”
“I took Anya to spend the night with her grandmother.”
“Oh. Is she happy going there?”
“Yeah, very excited. They’re going to make brownies tonight.”
I step aside and let him come in.
He walks straight to my living room and finds wine glasses in my cabinet. I can feel a tingle on the tips of my fingers as I watch him uncork the bottle and pour just the right amount in two glasses. He looks so comfortable and at ease here.
We take sips of