Page 61 of Healing Hearts
I don’t know what made Emily relax the rules between us, but I’m not questioning it. For however long this arrangement lasts, I’m savoring every moment.
But the length of this arrangement is weighing heavily on my mind when I make an appointment to see Doctor Rigilotto.
“Trent! It’s wonderful to see you again,” Doctor Rigilotto says as he enters the examination room. “What can I help you with today?”
I checked the internet before making this appointment, but my reading is slow and laborious, and I wasn’t completely sure I understood what was being said in all those blog posts and medical journals. Beyond that, I probably could have asked Emily, but I didn’t want to make it seem like I was putting pressure on her or to imply in any way that I wanted our arrangement to have an expiry date.
“How long does it normally take couples to get pregnant?” I ask.
“You and your partner are trying to get pregnant?” he asks, tapping the keys to get into his computer.
I wince at the partner comment, but there’s no way to correct him without making it awkward. He’ll already see and remember the tests I asked for months ago once he’s in there.
“We’ve been trying since April,” I say, “and we haven’t had any luck.”
“Your sperm count was good,” he says, scanning the results on the computer. He leans back in the chair and steeples his fingers. “We tell teenagers that the chance of getting pregnant is a hundred percent every month to prevent risky behavior. But the truth is that the chance is more like twenty percent. Even once a pregnancy has occurred, there’s roughly a twenty percent chance of miscarriage.”
“At what point do doctors step in if a couple has been trying for a while and is not getting pregnant?”
“We usually suggest a year,” he says.
“A year!” I sit forward in my chair, and I don’t know why I’m so shocked, but I never considered this deal with Emily going on for that long. I thought a month or two, maybe. Now that we’re well beyond that, and we’re becoming more and more comfortable in ways I’m not sure weshouldbe comfortable with each other, I was hoping he’d tell me it would happen any day now. Instead, he’s told me we’re not even at the halfway point yet.
“A year,” he confirms with a chuckle. “At that point, I’d suggest that your partner has some tests run to see whether there are any problems on her end.”
“She’s had a baby before,” I say.
“Well,” the doctor says, his brow furrowed. “That doesn’t always mean there arenoproblems, but it should give you hope that you’ll be pregnant within the year.”
“Okay,” I say, taking a deep breath and standing up.
“That’s all you came in for?” he asks.
“I wasn’t sure if there was something we were doing wrong.”
“Assuming you’re tracking her cycle, using ovulation kits, and so forth, that’s the best you can do. When you get close to the egg’s release, having sex every other day or even every day can give you better odds.”
“Right, yeah,” I say, thinking of Emily’s calendar that she hasn’t filled in for July yet. “We’re doing all that.”
Having enough sex isn’t the problem—at least not since mid-June. We’re all over each other any chance we get. I’ve never physically needed anyone, ached for them, the way I do with Em.
“Then it’s just patience and persistence. You’ll get there.” He rises and escorts me out of the room. “Tell Emily she can come in to have some tests ordered, if she’s worried.”
“Thanks,” I say, lost in my own thoughts.
It’s not until I get into my truck and am staring at the steering wheel, wondering whether I can handle another seven or eight months of casual fucking without it feeling not so casual, that I realize the doctor mentioned Emily.
My heart sinks. If the doctor said her name as though it was no big deal, without me having confirmed in any way that “my partner” was Emily, it means the town must be rife with gossip about us. Thatshouldbother me, and it does, but not nearly enough to consider putting a stop to whatever is happening.
In the end, I want Emily to have the baby she longs for, and she and I can deal with any fallout in Little Falls or with each other, if it comes to that. I still believe we’re good enough friends that we can figure out what “after” looks like without it becoming painful for either of us. We had a deal, and neither of us is the type of person to go back on our word.
Tyler sends me a text while I’m at work, telling me he just had a reminder on his phone that today is the anniversary of Omar’s death.
Emily might be off today,Tyler writes.Today has been a tough day every year so far.
For the rest of the day, Tyler’s warning is at the back of my mind, and I can’t seem to let it go. Rather than working late like I normally would, I ask Brett if he’ll take some overtime to finish everything and then close up. He agrees.
When I get to my truck, though, I still haven’t made a plan. Emily seems like someone who’d want the day acknowledged in some way, so I drive to Amir’s day camp, and I pick him up rather than leaving him there for the after-care hours.
