The truck door swings open and Theo hops out of the truck. The light from the truck's interior catches the wince on his face when he lands, but his old leg injury does nothing to slow him down as he moves toward me.

I want to run to him and throw my arms around his neck but I feel stuck in place. Is this even real? Am I dreaming? Maybe I'm still asleep on the porch swing.

"Milia?" he says my name with concern as he gets closer. "Are you okay?"

All I can do is stare at him as he approaches. I'm unaware of my tears until he bends down to take my face in his hands and uses his thumbs to wipe my cheeks.

"Are you okay?" he asks again. His lips impulsively brush against mine but then he seems to catch himself and pulls back, keeping my face cradled between his palms. "Sorry," he begins to apologize, "wasn't thinking. I just—"

That's as far as he gets before I'm closing the distance between our lips again and gripping his shoulders to pull him closer to me.

His hands drop from my cheeks to my waist, and he speaks against my mouth while he runs a hand from my hip to behind my knee. "We need to... talk." The last word comes out with a throaty growl as he hooks my leg up along his side and gives in to my insistent pulling on his shoulders to lay me back against the porch floor.

His body comes down over top of mine, and I welcome his tongue inside of my mouth with a needy whimper. My hands roam against his strong back, pressing and pulling to try and bring him even closer though it's not possible.

His mouth leaves mine, and he asks, "What's wrong, sweetheart?" while nuzzling the side of my face. His lips begin to move down my neck. "Talk to me."

It's nearly impossible to get any words out with the way he's making me feel with his body over top of mine and his lips moving against my neck.

"You came back," I whisper as my hand runs over his shoulder blade to hold the back of his neck. My toes curl while his mouth sucks on a particularly sensitive spot on my throat.

"You called," he murmurs his reply as if it's the most obvious answer.

"Oh Theo," I begin to cry again, and he lifts his face from my neck to bring his lips to mine for another quick kiss.

I catch the back of his head before he can move away, and we share a longer, more passionate kiss until we both need a second to breathe.

"You came," I say again because I still can't wrap my head around the fact that he's really here.

He kisses my cheek and then gazes down at me while he strokes my hair back. "Of course I came, Milia. I told you to call if you needed me. I told you I'd come straight back. Didn't you believe me?"

I did.

I told myself he didn't mean it but deep down I knew he would drop everything for me. Why else would I have called him earlier?

I'm overwhelmed by the truth that I'm finally admitting to myself—that Theo loves me and wants me despite our differences and my countless imperfections. I'm overwhelmed by everything. The pain that I shared with Cal just a few days ago which I had been carrying by myself for so long... the news Cal dropped on me tonight... the mixed emotions of hearing Adam's voice again.

I open my mouth to try and explain to Theo but everything gets tangled together, and I just end up blurting out a jumble of words, "You... You're here... And I told Cal... Cal is... I called Adam and—" My mouth snaps closed while I try to hold in a sob.

Theo looks down at me with sympathetic eyes that grow more concerned by the minute. "Shhh, Milia," he soothes while running his hand up and down my thigh from my hip to my knee which is still hooked over his waist. "Take your time, Princess. One thing at a time." His other hand lightly brushes my cheeks, first one and then the other to wipe away the tears that are streaming down my face.

His deep concern and care only add to my overwhelm, and my breaths grow closer together and more shallow while I struggle to pull myself together.

"Breathe in slowly, sweetheart," he coaches while bracing his arm next to me against the porch floor and holding his body up to give me more space. "That's it, nice and slow. Hold it while I count, okay?" He keeps his eyes locked with mine. "One, two, three, four. Now exhale. Slowly. Good, good. Again, okay? Inhale. One, two, three, four. Hold it for four. Now exhale with my count again. One, two, three, four. There you go. And again."

I continue the slow pattern of breathing that he's mapped out for me while his fingers toy with my hair and his hand massages my thigh.

"You're okay. It's going to be okay. You've got this." He dips down to kiss my forehead and then shifts our bodies to slip his hands underneath me. "There you go. Good girl, good girl," he encourages while gathering me into his arms and moving onto his feet. "That's it. You're okay."

I curl into him while he carries me to the porch swing and lean against his solid chest when he sits down with me in his lap.

"I don't know where to start, Theo. Everything is such a mess," I manage to tell him in a quiet voice once I'm no longer fighting for my breath.

"You mind if I go first then?" He rests his knuckles against my cheek and uses his thumb to brush away a few more of my lingering tears.

My eyes close at his gentle touch. I lean into his hand while giving a short nod.

"Milia, I want you to know how sorry I am. I really screwed up. When we were in my truck—"

"No, Theo, you didn't. I'm—" I begin to interrupt him, but he lightly holds his pointer finger against my lips to shush me.

"I did. I didn't make my intentions clear when you were looking for answers, and I'm so sorry for that. But Emilia, I need you in my life. This... this isn't a proposal, not right now, but one day, I am going to marry you."

My heartbeat speeds up at his words even as I tell myself that it can't happen. All the reasons that were laid out before are still there. But oh, it feels so good to pretend for a minute that they don't matter...

"We're going to figure this out," he goes on as if answering my internal doubts. "You said we were done, but baby, we're just getting started. We have forever to work out all the obstacles and find our way. All I need from you is a willingness to work with me through them." His confidence wavers and he suddenly seems nervous when he asks, "So, um, what do you say? Can we work on this together?"

I'm dying to say yes but I know we need to discuss a very important deciding factor first. My fingers lightly play with his beard while I work up the courage to say something. “What if I can't give you the life you want?” I ask eventually in a quiet voice.

Theo shakes his head at me with a small frown. "Don't you get it, Milia? The only life I want is one with you in it."

"And kids," I add to his statement while focusing on his beard hair curled around my finger. I can't look at his face.

"What?" He sounds confused. "What are you talking about?"

"When you see your future, you see kids," I explain to him softly.

He's quiet for a moment and then he clears his throat. "Well, sure, I see Emily... and I see Cal and April's baby..."

I glance up at him. "But what about your baby? Your kids?"

His shoulders move up with the slightest shrug. "I don't know… I don't really see them. I just see you, Milia."

I blink. "What?"

"I'm sorry," he apologizes quietly, almost as if he's embarrassed. "I'm just being honest. Maybe they are somewhere in my future, but I don't have a clear picture of what that looks like in my head. I mean, I'm pretty sure that I will want them... someday, maybe, but—"

"But in the truck," I blurt out. "You talked about having kids together."

He grimaces and runs a hand over his face. "I know, I know. But I'm trying to be upfront with you now, Milia. It's not that I'm dead set against the idea. But I always wanted to travel, and my time for doing that is growing shorter and shorter with the way my leg keeps acting up. And trying to keep up with kids with this limp? It'd be rough. Emily already makes me feel like an old man. And I mean, that stuff isn't that important. Of course I'd love to have children with you if that's what you want but—"

"I can't have kids." The words are thrown out into the open but the world doesn't end.

Theo closes his mouth and just looks at me. He studies me carefully before he asks, "Do you want kids?”

"Did you not hear me?" I ask, feeling frustrated. "I can't have them!"

"I heard you," he answers calmly. "I'm not asking if you can have them, I'm asking if you want them."

Yes. The immediate response almost slips out of my mouth but I force myself to pause for a minute and to really think about my answer.

“I used to… I'm not sure now. But it doesn't matter because I can't. Maybe if I could, things would be different but—"

"Would you adopt?" Theo asks, cutting me off before I can spiral too deeply into my spinning thoughts. "If you did decide that you wanted them, I mean."

I chew on my lip but I don't have to think about my answer for long. “I… Yeah, I think I would."

He smiles at me and leans forward to press a kiss against my temple. "So we're on the same page then. That's great. It's not something we have to decide right now as long as we both know we're open to the same ideas."

If only it were that easy.

As if he can sense that I am still not at peace with the topic, he gently rubs my knee and looks into my eyes. "Why wouldn't you tell me this sooner, sweetheart?"

"Because," I mumble and drop my eyes from his. "I was afraid that it would mean I would have to talk about... about it."

The side of his finger brushes against my chin, and he uses his knuckle to lift it so that I'm looking into his eyes again. "Talk about what, Milia?" The sad look of understanding on his face tells me that he must have already found the answer in my gaze.

I begin to chew on my lip again. Theo's hand gently caresses my cheek, and then he leans forward to cover my mouth with his, forcing me to release my lip from between my teeth.

"Tell me," he encourages before kissing me again. "Please. Let's just get it all out in the open, okay?"

Perhaps it's because I've already spoken it out loud to April, Cal and my therapist, or maybe it's the earnest look on Theo's face and the ever-present love in his steady eyes. Whatever it is, it doesn't feel as difficult to say my next words as I thought it would be.

"I was pregnant before. Years ago." I watch his face to gauge his reaction but very little changes other than the sympathy growing in his gaze.

"Cal's?"

"Yeah..."

He nods like he was expecting that answer. His hand begins to rub my back. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

There's no judgment in his voice. No anger, no demand, no disgust. There is only love, support and encouragement. And I realize that I do want to tell him what happened.

Sitting in his lap with my head tucked against his chest on the porch swing, I tell him everything.