#108: Fallen: Fire and Redemption - Build a Family

***Julian Kauer***

Violet didn’t say she liked it, but she didn’t say she hated it either. Considering she was still here and hadn’t freaked out, I could take it as a pretty good sign.

I stood still, watching the way she walked around the house. Cautious, like every step could somehow break that solid structure. I didn’t know what she was afraid of, but it felt like she was expecting the ceiling to collapse, the floor to give in, or something bad to explode out of nowhere and ruin our happiness, like it usually did with us.

I guess she was just scared in a general sense.

She stopped in front of the window again. The light beautifully hit her face. Sad, but beautiful. And I thought I could spend the rest of my life just looking at her like that. Even if she never said she wanted to stay, and that was eventually what I was afraid of.

“There’s a room upstairs,” I said softly, trying not to scare off the silence, but she didn’t say anything. “The realtor said we can paint it however we want. Build in closets, change the handles, that kind of stuff. And there’s a basement... I thought we could renovate it, make it like a bar for us, with a pool table. Or I don’t know… a place just for you. With a couch, books, and stupid floral curtains. Whatever you like.”

She laughed. “I think you know I’m not the type who likes little flower prints.”

Yeah, I knew. But I wanted to hear her say it while cussing me out with three different swear words.

“And about the kitchen… there’s that island in the middle, like you said once. Remember? When you saw one in an old magazine and said you wanted to lie naked on it just to tease me.”

She laughed more, seemed happy, but it didn’t last long, and I wondered if I had said something wrong. She looked melancholic, a sentimental air that wasn’t common on that face.

When I thought about saying something else, risking starting a fight, she slowly turned toward me. Her arms still crossed, like she had laughed by accident and broken the serious posture she was trying to keep, as if she was embarrassed for letting her guard down.

“Do you really believe we can make all this work?” I watched a wrinkle form on her forehead, between her eyes. She frowned when she was stressed, like there was a constant problem in that big head of hers that just wouldn’t go away.

“No… I just rented this house for fun,” I answered sarcastically. She rolled her eyes but let out a small laugh. “Seriously, Violet? Where is this coming from?”

She took a deep breath and turned to the window again. Ran her hand through her hair, undoing the loose bun she wore. The brown strands fell down her back, covering the open part of the blouse she had on.

Violet stayed turned away, but through the bit of reflection the sun still hitting the glass allowed, I could see she looked like she wanted to cry.

I knew this could be too much, that she was young. That thought hits me all the time—it’s hard to ignore when I’m heading into middle age and she’s just now starting to live.

But I wanted to know how to undo this back in the beginning, when I started feeling and seeing her this way—as the woman who keeps me up at night and made me give up everything for a life like this, simple, the kind I never thought I’d want.

But now… now it’s too late. I love her, and I don’t think that’s something I can just switch off. It’d be too easy if it were.

I took a few steps toward her, still not touching, kind of unsure what to say. How could I comfort her if her doubt was the same as mine? If this discomfort, these scenarios were popping up in her head, placing us side by side twenty years from now, while she’s still young and I’ll be a decrepit old man?

Fuck, this was a mess.

“Can we talk?” I asked.

She turned again, a bit confused.

“Yeah, I think we should.”

I was ready for anything in that moment—except what I heard next:

“You know I can’t have kids, right?” She said it almost like she was embarrassed.

I couldn’t answer right away, even though that wasn’t a problem for me. I never dreamed of being a father. Seriously, what kind of example would I be with a father like mine, who nearly killed me and screwed up my restaurant just to get my attention, knowing I’d never talk to him willingly?

“So what?” came out kind of wrong, but it was honest.

“Julian? I tell you I can’t get pregnant and you say ‘so what?’” She punched my shoulder.

“Sorry, it came out wrong, but I don’t know how to comfort you about this stuff. But Vi, do you think that’s a problem for me?”

She looked kind of confused.

“I don’t know, you got all emotional about this house, talking about building a family, blah blah blah. I thought maybe you wanted to have kids, like 99% of the people in this kid-packed world.”

I laughed hearing her talk, because it made sense. Looking back at the last few moments now, I did give that impression, even if I didn’t mean to.

“I never wanted to have kids, I don’t think I’d be a good role model, to be honest.”

“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” she teased. I ignored it but kept a small smile on my face. She was starting to get back to normal.

“It’s just that this is a problem for me—I mean, it was, when I was with Ethan. But I found out young, when I had a problem with cysts. I didn’t care until I loved someone.”

I nodded, placing my hand on her shoulder. I traced my fingers up her neck, feeling her soft skin on her cheek.

“Julian, I know this is supposed to be something good, and things have been weird between us, and I don’t want to ruin everything. But Ethan… I still think about him, you know?”

That wasn’t easy to hear, but I couldn’t do anything. It wouldn’t be fair to demand that she forget someone like that, especially after losing him.

“Violet, that’s not going to be a problem for me,” I said it sincerely, but seeing her eyes, I felt like it was something more. “But I have to ask… is it going to be a problem for you?”

That answer could change everything.