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It was an offhand comment.
This wasn’t something you should be overthinking.
Any other woman in your situation would have been thrilled. And that was the problem—you weren't like other women. And no, this wasn't meant to be a compliment.
Your childhood and adolescence hadn’t been the most conventional. You knew it hadn’t been your fault; you never had a say in anything, yet it didn’t undo the knot in your stomach nor make the nightmares go away.
It had only been a few years since you'd begun to get your life back on track. Or, well, to build your own. One that actually felt like yours, where you were more than just the prisoner of a rich sadist.
When Yelena found you and freed your mind from their control, you were lost. Waking up was difficult. Facing the reality around you was puzzling, and you struggled with understanding your true identity.
But that was ages ago.
You have got your life on track since then.
And everything was going well. You could say you were happy for the first time in a long time. A fundamental pillar of that happiness was thanks to Joaquin.
When Sam introduced you, you never thought he would become such an important part of your life. Falling in love with him wasn't in your plans, but it had happened. And it was quite simple. That was one of the long list of special things about Joaquín—loving him was so easy.
From the first moment, you noticed the brightness he radiated. He was funny, kind, sweet, and smart. He had a charming personality, and it was literally impossible not to smile when he was around—and you weren't someone who was used to smiling, not before him at least.
He knew who you were and what you had done, and it had never been an issue for him. To be honest, his reaction when he met you was something you hadn't expected. He was thrilled and excited to officially meet an ex-widow. And, despite his obvious curiosity, he never asked anything about the Red Room. You assumed it was out of respect; perhaps he did not want you to remember Dreykov, the training, and the brainwashing.
And the killing.
And you had to admit you were delighted that the subject was never brought up.
He still complimented your fighting skills. Like, all the time. Looking like a proud boyfriend every time you kicked someone's ass.
There was a moment, early in your relationship, when you realized it was him . You had never known love before—not that kind. And Joaquin's was the best first experience you could have asked for. You had been certain that he was going to be your first and last. You didn't want anyone else. Because no one would ever make you feel the way he did.
But now everything has crumbled.
Because of a single comment.
“We're going to have the cutest babies.”
The words had rolled off his tongue so easily.
And they had stabbed your heart in the same way.
Sarah had smiled at his words, Sam had rolled his eyes and made a witty remark, while you pressed your lips into a thin smile, and the conversation at the table just continued on.
But you couldn't shake off the feeling.
In all the time you had been dating Joaquín, the topic of having children had never been brought up. You thought it was because he knew. And he was being the considerate, thoughtful gentleman he was.
But now you were thinking that maybe Joaquín didn't know everything you went through in the Red Room.
You had the image of his happy face burned into your brain when he made the baby comment, and it only intensified the knotting in your stomach.
This happened two weeks ago, and since then, your mind has not stopped spinning in a whirlpool of thoughts and feelings. You didn't know how to deal with the situation. Well, technically, you did; you knew you had to talk to Joaquín. If the future he had planned for himself was to have a family, it was clear he was not going to have that with you.
You rubbed your eyes as you let out a grunt of resignation. You'd tried your best to leave the past behind you, just for it to come back, knocking on your door and hitting you with a harsh reminder that happiness was a luxury you couldn’t yet afford.
*********
Something was going on.
And Joaquin had noticed this.
You'd been acting odd, distant even, and he couldn't figure out why.
Had he done something that irked you?
Despite living together, over the past two weeks, you’ve been coming up with excuses to avoid spending time together, skipping your regular morning coffee dates, and missing movie nights. Even during your training sessions, your conversations felt minimal and strained.
But what hurt him the most was that whenever he attempted to reach out for you, you recoiled from his touch—something you never did before.
You had always loved his clinginess. He felt the need to have a hand on you constantly. While other people had considered it annoying in the past, it never seemed to bother you. On the contrary, it seemed like you yearned for his touch just almost as he longed for yours.
When he mentioned the situation to Sam, the reaction he got was that he was reading too much into it and that maybe you just needed to have some space.
“Have you talked to her about it?”
No. He hadn’t. Because he was afraid he would get the answer his brain was already conjuring up.
And he wasn’t ready for it.
Not that it mattered, because you started the conversation yourself that afternoon.
A sense of relief washed over him as he noticed you standing in the living room of your shared apartment.
Everything may be okay after all.
Perhaps Sam was right, and you just needed space.
However, the happiness was wiped from his face when he noticed the expression on your face, followed by the dreadful words, “We need to talk.”
Joaquín felt the air escape from his lungs. A lump formed in his throat as your words echoed in his head.
‘We need to talk’.
Those words almost always came before terrible news.
He searched your face for clues, any hint that this time might be different, but the seriousness in your eyes revealed everything he feared.
“Can we sit down, please?”
Joaquín nodded, swallowing hard as he followed you to the couch. You sat across from him, your hands clasped tightly in your lap, a subtle sign of your own unease. The cushions felt too soft, and indulgent as if mocking the tension between the two of you.
“I’ve been thinking a lot these past few weeks…” You began, your voice quivering slightly, and he felt a surge of fear grip his heart. “I know you had noticed that I had pushed you away, and I—”
The words sent a shiver down his spine. A flicker of emotion crossed your eyes—a mix of determination and sadness—that sent a twist through his stomach.
You'd rehearsed this conversation in your head, every word, but now that you had your boyfriend in front of you, your mind had gone completely blank. Your eyes drank in how worried he was; you hated yourself for doing this to him.
You took a deep breath, the kind that tried to draw in all the courage you could muster. “Remember two weeks ago when we had dinner with Sam and Sarah?”
He furrowed his brow in confusion. Of all the things his mind had conjured up, you mentioning the dinner at Sarah's was not among them. However, he nodded and gestured for you to go on.
“Sarah said something about AJ and Cass and then you mentioned that we were gonna have the cutest babies, and I—”
God, this hurt so much.
Each word you spoke felt like a dagger piercing his chest, and made his heart sink further. The lump in his throat seemed to grow even bigger. “Is that what this is about? You don’t want to build a family with me?”
His words hit you like a ton of bricks—of course, Joaquín would assume he was the problem. You swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. “No, it's not that I don't want to.” You exhaled, forcing the words out, your heart racing. “It's just…”
Joaquin leaned forward, squinting in a fervent plea for clarity. The concern on his face was palpable.
“I thought you knew about this, and that’s why you never brought the subject up…” You took a deep breath and finally uttered the words weighing heavily inside you. “I can’t have kids, Joaquin.”
“In the Red Room, they had this graduation ceremony…They sterilized us. One less thing to worry about, I guess.” You grimaced, your hands fidgeting instinctively—a nervous habit you couldn't recall developing. “For Dreykov, that was what mattered even more than a mission. It made everything easier. Even the killing.”
He struggled with the truth of what you said, and the world around him dimmed for a minute.
“I've fought to put that part of my life behind me, and I don't want to be the burden that holds you back from having the life you want.”
“You're not a burden to me.” He moved closer and took one of your hands in his own, his thumb softly stroking patterns on the back of your hand. “What I want is you —just as you are. A future without you holds no interest for me.”
Emotions you had suppressed for so long started to overwhelm you, and tears filled your eyes. “I don't want to put you in that position. I want you to be happy.”
“But I am happy with you,” he replied, with a resolute tone.
“What if one day you change your mind?”
Joaquín leaned in, his eyes blazing with a sharp intensity that sliced through the fog of doubt that shrouded you. “I swear to you, my mind is made up. And it starts and ends with you.”
He cupped your face gently, wiping away a tear. You closed your eyes in contentment, leaning into his touch.
You had missed it so much.
You had missed him .
“I love you.”
“I love you, too,” you murmured, gazing into his chocolate-brown eyes. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
For the first time in two weeks, Joaquín found himself smiling—truly smiling.
He pulled you closer, draping his arms around your shoulders. You buried your face in his chest, inhaling in his familiar scent, while he tightened his embrace around you, afraid that you would slip away.
He had missed you .
“Please, don’t push me away again,” he pleaded softly, his voice muffled as his face rested against your head. “Those were the worst two weeks of my life.”
“I’m sorry.” You pulled back slightly. “I don’t know how to deal with my emotions well, but I’m trying, I promise.”
“I know you are. And I’m here for you if you need me. We’ll work through it together. We’re a team, remember?”
As you listened to him, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. The fear that had gripped you for weeks started to fade.
“And we can always consider adoption,” he suggested, his eyes lighting up at the idea. “There are so many kids out there in need of a caring home. We can give them a shot at a better life.”
“I like that idea,” you said quietly, a timid smile emerging through the lingering traces of your tears.
“Good.” His hand found yours again, his fingers easily interlacing with yours. A wave of tranquility enveloped you, and for the first time in weeks, it felt as though you could breathe. You rested your head against his shoulder, settling into him and finding comfort in the calming thud of his heartbeat.
“Thank you for being so understanding. I don't deserve you.”
“Don't say that,” he said, lifting your chin, making you meet his eyes. “You deserve all the love and happiness in the world. And I'm not going anywhere.”
With that, he leaned into you, his lips softly brushing against yours, and in that instant, everything felt right again. The outside world faded, enveloping you in your warm little cocoon of comfort and understanding.