Chapter 3: A Marriage on Hold

My wife, Natalie Harmon, and I have been married for seven years. We’ve always wanted kids, but Natalie has a clear career plan. She always says there’s still room for her to grow professionally.

Her words echoed: “Not yet, Derek. There’s still another rung on the ladder to climb.” I’d heard that mantra a hundred times, sometimes with pride, sometimes with an ache. She wasn’t cold about it, just focused—ambitious in a way I both admired and resented. We had a system. A plan. This wasn’t part of it.

If she had a child now, her career would likely come to a halt. So we agreed: no kids until she turned thirty-five and secured her position at the company.

Thirty-five was the finish line. It was circled on the kitchen calendar for next spring. Every time my mom asked about grandkids at Thanksgiving, Natalie would just smile and squeeze my hand under the table, her eyes flicking toward that date in the future.