A requested sequel to this life is sweeter than fiction.
Trigger warning: Mature content and early miscarriage.
Taylor waits for the "Are you sure?" She waits to hear it from Abigail or Blake...waits to hear it from her doctor. Hell, there's a week before her appointment where she's positive that the self-doubt will arise in her brain, despite having picked apart every single reason not to move forward with Travis until they came to the full-stop conclusion that the positives far outweighed any possible drawbacks.
They were doing this, embarking on an entirely new journey and it was both fucking intimidating and the most exciting, ambitious thing they've ever experienced.
There was a time in her life when it would've been a perfectly valid question. Too much was going on or she didn't feel ready...the world, hers, specifically, wasn't secure enough to bring another life into.
Before she and Joe had ended things for good, they'd spoken about children. Debated whether trying for a baby would fix what was broken or at least place a temporary bandage over the cracks.
Ultimately, it was Joe's reluctance that convinced her it was a horrible idea. The last thing she wished to do was have kids for the wrong reasons. Would he end up resenting them or worse...refuse to be a part of their lives? It was selfish and a risk she refused to take.
She was ultimately relieved that she'd been able to avoid allowing her feelings to guide her into a desperate attempt to save a sinking ship. Although she would've loved a baby unconditionally, it would have been unfair to them.
"I don't want to tell anyone until we have something to tell," she relays to Travis the night after her IUD is removed. There was some initial slight pain and spotting, but it hadn't been terrible. He'd wanted to go with her, but the practice was scheduled, and she had insisted she would be fine alone. Her doctor in New York had connected her with a highly recommended ob-gyn in Kansas City and she had full confidence everything would be smooth sailing. She knew if she'd asked, he would've moved things around and obviously, she wanted him by her side every step of the way; this just seemed like something she could handle solo.
There was a fine line between doing things by herself because she had no other choice and choosing to because it wasn't a big deal. Just the knowledge that it would've only taken one word and he'd be there to hold her hand should she have needed it was more than enough.
The whole procedure hadn't taken long and she'd spent the rest of the afternoon resting, happy to have Trav come home with her favorite ice cream and a cheerful bouquet of sunflowers and roses, ever thoughtful. They ate pizza on the couch under blankets, chatting about the day when she stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes meeting his.
"Are you in pain?" He asks, concerned. His hand goes to her thigh, floating his fingers across the surface. "Do you need ---"
"No, sorry, sorry. I'm fine. It's just that...this makes it real. We're doing this."
The smile that's stretched across the corners of her mouth is contagious and he grins back, squeezing her shoulder. "We are, huh. You scared?"
She laughs. "Yup. You?"
"Fucking terrified," he leans in to kiss her, rests his head against hers. "But not about going through with this. I guess mostly wondering if I'll be a good dad. I got a lot to live up to."
"For the record, I think you'll be a fantastic father," Taylor replies softly. "But I get it. That's something I worry about, too. Will I somehow screw them up? Will I be enough for them? And then there's so much to figure out. The little things we haven't even started to talk about yet..."
