Page 36 of The Facilitator: Part 3
“I don’t know, is the honest answer.”
“I’ll probably need to quit work,” she added.
“Why not just go part time, work from home?” I wasn’t sure why she’d need to quit entirely.
She nodded and sighed. “Maybe,” she said. She gave me a smile and I squeezed her hand.
“I’m scared,” I added quietly.
“So am I. We have to do it, though, don’t we? If there is even the slimmest chance, then we need to go for it,” she said, nodding as she spoke.
“I think so.”
Three days later I had a date for my procedure, Lauren had a meeting with a fertility expert, and we had a call from the realtor that the two houses were coming off the market. I wondered if that was an omen at first but laughed off the idea.
She underwent as many tests as I had, scans, health screening, and it was decided she was a perfect candidate. She was given medication to suppress her cycle. She had to inject herself daily and, since she hated needles, I did it for her. I winced at the small bruising to her skin from previous injection sites. She did that for two weeks.
We were driven to the private hospital in Kent and met by Sam. My procedure would be later that morning and we were left to settle in the plush bedroom. If all went well, I’d be back in my own bed that evening, but had been allocated a bedroom, just in case. I didn’t want to dwell on thejust in case. Lauren sat with me.
“How sore will your balls be after this?” she asked.
“Apparently not that sore. However, you can tend to them, if you like,” I offered.
“Can we have sex?”
“Of course. They’re taking some shit out of my balls, not touching my cock,” I said, hoping I’d remembered correctly. “Although I guess a couple of days off won’t kill us.”
Whether it was coincidence or the thought we were going to try for a child, we’d been having sex multiple times a day, every day. I’d never felt so horny.
“We could get one last fuck in now,” I said, smirking at her.
“Erm, no. Anyone could walk in that room and the last thing you need is to waste any of thelittle blightersbefore they can get their hands on them,” she said, laughing away.
I was glad that we’d decided to preserve the blighters since the anesthetist then came into the room. I’d already met him but he wanted a final check.
“Okay, we’ll be calling for you soon, I believe,” he said.
“This is awful,” Lauren said when he left.
“What is?”
“This. This is the firstdangerousthing we’ve had to face,” she said.
I frowned. “I don’t plan on dying, if that’s what you’re worried about. But if I do, will you promise meone thing?” I took her hand in both mine and found the sincerest look I could to plant on my face.
“Anything,” she whispered.
“Come on my leather Bentley seat then strap my ashes to it and take me for a drive?”
She stared at me. “Honestly, you are fucking awful,” she said, just as the nurse came to collect me.
I kissed Lauren and told her to wait there. I didn’t want her to walk with me, not that I thought she’d be allowed to. I clutched my wonderfully fashionable gown that allowed my ass to be on display and followed the nurse.
“Ah, here he is,” the anesthetist said. The only reason I knew he had smiled was because the skin around his eyes crinkled. He was fully masked up.
I was helped onto a bed and had to wiggle my stockinged feet, I wasn’t sure why. I took a couple of breaths and found a metallic unpleasant taste in my mouth. Then I was out of it.
I woke in my room and Lauren was sitting beside me on her phone. I coughed, my throat was a little sore. She looked over to me.
