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"Do you want children?"
Paul almost didn't hear the soft question, spoken with equal parts fearfulness and wistfulness. They had always sidestepped the issue, respectful of each other's scars and hesitant to commit one way or the other. He stared at the TV, trying to put his competing emotions into perspective. He wasn't his father, he knew that, but he was terrified of screwing up a small, fragile life dependent on him.
He looked into her carefully blank eyes and ran a finger along her cheek. If he wasn't his father, this small, frighteningly strong woman curled against him most definitely wasn't her mother. Certainly the two of them could survive a hellion. He nodded firmly. "Someday. If you want."
Startled, her eyes darted over his face and she studied his expression. Whatever she was looking for she found, for she returned his nod. "Someday."
He fought down the lump in his throat and wrapped his arms around her. There weren't enough words in any language to describe how much he loved this woman.
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