Ash (14 page)

She meant well. For the most part, I was glad they saw how difficult Jake could be, but to bargain with a four-year-old was dangerous territory.

“I really wish you had discussed this with me beforehand,” I admitted, running a hand through my hair.

Michelle reached across the counter and touched the back of my hand. “Ash, honey, we don’t want to hurt you by not consulting with you. It’s just a puppy, something that will occupy him when he is with us. You don’t need to worry about a thing.”

Michelle seemed to have the gift of smoothing everything over when the going got tough. It reminded me of the first day Connie and I began our journey into the world of egg harvesting.

It was just after six-thirty a.m. Connie hadn’t spoken to me all morning.

We sat in her parent’s dining room, neither of us daring to discuss what we were about to do.

Michelle came into the room and grabbed the untouched cup of cold coffee.

The tension in the air was heavy. I hated feeling as if I wasn’t the man my wife needed.

“Is this how you two are going to behave? It’s much too early in the day for such drama,” Michelle remarked.

“I don’t know what to say,” I replied.

Connie glared at me, her eyes filling with tears. “No, Ash prefers to hang his head in the sand.”

I didn’t reply. I stood and left the room, walking out of the house. The cool, crisp morning air enveloped me, and I let out a deep sigh.

I loved my wife more than life itself. I could never think of a world without her in it. No matter how much I tried to persuade her to forget her crazy idea of having a baby, she pulled away from me. I wanted her to concentrate on treatment and getting better. Connie, being the stubborn woman she was, refused to listen to anything I had to say.

“She was like this as a child,” a voice said from behind me.

I turned and saw Michelle.

She placed a cigarette between her lips, lit it, and inhaled deeply.

“I wish she would just listen to me.” I shook my head.

“She won’t, Ashley. She’s obsessed, and there is nothing anyone can do to change her mind.”

Staring at the ground, I let out another long breath. “I’m so afraid for her.”

“Honey, we all are, but the best thing we all can do is be here for her, support her, and help you both through it,” Michelle replied in a soft voice.

I wasn’t in the mood for the calm that seemed to flow from Michelle’s every pore. She radiated so much warmth and light. At times, I found it suffocating. Yet, I knew this was where she drew her strength from.

“She’s been getting all the symptoms of morning sickness, but there will never be a baby growing inside her. Is it really worth it all?”

“Once you hold your child in your hands, you know that everything will have been worth it.” Michelle smiled.

It felt odd to stand there, listening to her tell me how everything would be all right. Inside, I was screaming. Before I had a chance to even express my feelings, Connie came out of the house and looked at me.

“We better go,” she said.

I looked at my watch and my stomach did a double spin. “Already?”

“Ash, don’t be like this, please.” Connie reached out and touched my arm.

I couldn’t help it. I melted every time I looked at her. She was my sole purpose for waking up each day. The thought of losing her filled me with dread.

“Here,” I said, grabbing her bag. “Let me take that.”

She smiled at me, turned to her mother, and kissed her cheek. “I’ll call you after.”

“Okay, honey. Think positive thoughts,” Michelle replied.

We walked to the truck, and I opened the door, helping Connie inside.

“Why, thank you, Mr. Benton.”

“You’re very welcome, Mrs. Benton.” I winked at her and got in.

“Ash?” she said.

I glanced at her. “What?”

“I love you.”

“Baby, I love you, too.”

“Then, let’s do this,” she said, and grinned.

I nodded and did as she instructed. I drove to the specialist clinic where all of Connie’s hopes and dreams lay.

Connie held my hand as we sat in the waiting room. Her leg jerked up and down, and it took all of my power not to join her.

Several other couples sat in the room with us. They wore the same sullen faces.

I wondered what their stories were, but I bet none of them matched my own. My wife had cancer. She’d deferred treatment to harvest her eggs and my sperm. Pretty unique.

The door opened.

“Connie, Ash, would you like to come through?” the nurse said, smiling.

We stood and followed her through to the bright, clinical office.

“Ah, Connie and Ashley,” Dr. Vargo greeted. “How have you been since we last saw you?”

“I’m good,” Connie replied. “We’re good.”

“Good, good. It’s been thirty-eight hours since your last bloods were done. Things look good, so we can go ahead with the harvest today.” Dr. Vargo smiled.

I cleared my throat and took a hold of Connie’s hand. “Will Connie be okay?”

“Ashley, I can assure you, your wife will be in the best of hands. We know she is precious, and will take good care of her.”

I nodded.

“So, are we good to go?” he asked in a joyful tone.

Connie’s eye opened wide. The same look she gave me when she told me she had lost our first baby spread across her face. A mixture of fear and anger.

“Yes,” she replied, not once taking her eyes off me.

“Very well,” Dr. Vargo said. “Lucy will take you down to your room, and you will be prepped for sedation. Ashley, you can sit back out in the waiting area and wait to be called. You will be taken to one of our more private areas where you can provide a sample of your semen.”

It was all so formal and clinical. I didn’t know how to react. Not once in my life would I have ever expected to be jerking off in a clinic. How that was going to happen was beyond me.

“Okay,” I replied. “I guess I’ll see you after.”

“I love you.” Connie kissed me in desperation before following Lucy out of the office.

I retreated to the waiting area and felt every moment past me by in trepidation. After what seemed like hours, the door opened again.

“Mr. Benton, can you follow me, please?” a nurse asked.

I followed her down a long corridor.

She stopped outside a door, slid the door sign to “occupied,” and handed me a small clear container.

“If you can fill this, that would be great.” The nurse’s eyes bored deep into mine.

I opened the door and stepped inside, locking it behind me. There was nothing but a chair, a small table with magazines, and little else in the room.

Fuck, I thought. It had been two days since we’d last been intimate. I’d stuck to the rules. No jerking off, and no heavy drinking. I had been pretty much a saint. To stand there, in such a clinical and uninspiring environment, didn’t give me a raging hard on.

I set the container on the table and unzipped my jeans, pushing them down and looking at my limp cock. I had to do something to get this thing moving. I switched on my phone and scrolled to the videos I kept of Connie. I did not intend to look through the porn. Watching Connie suck me off would do the trick.

I clicked play on the video, and low and behold, my member came to life. I switched off my mind to where I was and curled a hand around my cock. It felt weird doing it, yet the more I watched Connie’s head bobbing up and down on my cock, the easier it became.

A little less than five minutes later, I shot my load in the container. It took all of my willpower not to cry out. It was the quickest jerk off session since I was a horny teen.

I pulled my clothes into place and left the room. I walked up to the small desk and awkwardly handed my specimen to the nurse.

She smiled and said, “Thank you.”

Back in the waiting room, I tried not to look at the faces of the other couples. Every so often, a petite Asian woman looked in my direction and looked away when I smiled at her. Maybe it was the dragon tattoo on the side of my neck, or maybe it was the fact that she had an inkling of what I’d just done. Who knows? All I wanted to do was get the hell out of there, but no, that wasn’t going to happen.

The door opened, and Marcy entered. She sat down beside me and smiled.

“How much longer, do you think?” she asked.

I shook my head. “I’ve no idea.”

“Ah, I guess the procedure isn’t exactly simple,” she said, setting her bag down on the floor. “I’m a bit nervous.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

She gawped at me and frowned. “Ash, we both know there are some things that make me a little nervous more than others.”

“But not much.” I chortled.

“Very funny.” She nudged my arm. “How’s Connie anyway?”

I sighed and stared at my hands. “It’s always hard to tell with her. She’s doing all this, and in a matter of weeks, they are removing her womb and beginning treatment. Sometimes, I don’t know if she thinks things through.”

“Ash, we’ve all discussed the pros and cons of this. She knows what she is doing. All three of us do. We have to respect her decision.” Marcy glared at me.

There were times I was glad Marcy was blunt with the truth. Lately, she seemed to be dishing out her take on the whole sorry mess. It was driving me insane.

“Marcy Wilkinson,” a nurse called.

Marcy turned and looked at the nurse before picking up her bag. “Here goes the old womb prep.”

“See you on the other side.” I smiled at her.

Forty minutes passed since Connie had gone down for the procedure. My stomach spun each time I thought about what she was doing. Here I was, a man in the middle, with two women putting themselves on the line, one willing to gift the other a child. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined our lives taking us to this place, but here we were, in a situation created by fate.

Sometimes, fate was a cruel bastard.

“Mr. Benton . . . Mr. Benton.”

I looked up to find a nurse smiling at me.

“You’re wife is in recovery. I can take you to her now.”

I walked behind the petite nurse, relieved when she led me into a room, and I saw Connie.

“Hey, you,” I said, and took her hand in mine.

Connie was groggy. She blinked her eyes a few times, smiled at me, and turned her head to the side.

“Ash.”

“How are you? How was it?”

“I can’t remember,” she said. “Is Marcy here?”

“Yes. She’s having her little procedure done right now,” I replied, and kissed the back of her hand. “Once you’re fit, we can go home, and we’ll take it easy for as long as you want.”

“Can we have smores?” she asked.

“We can have anything your heart desires.” I kissed her again.

A nurse checked in. “How’s the pain, Connie?” she asked.

“It’s a little crampy,” Connie replied.

“Well, I can give you some Tylenol with codeine for the pain,” the nurse said, and smiled, before leaving the room. She returned and handed Connie the medication.

“Do you think all this will be worth it?” she asked.

I found it hard to keep eye contact with her, but she could read me very well. There was no avoiding the question.

“Let’s just see how everything works out after today,” I replied.

“Does that mean you don’t have confidence?”

I shook my head and squeezed her hand. “No, baby, I’m not. I just want us to get through the next week, and see how Marcy and the transfer goes. We can never predict these things. Remember what Dr. Vargo said?”

Connie snapped her hand from mine and looked away.

“Baby, don’t be like this.” I touched her shoulder.

“Why not?” She looked at me with tears in her eyes.

“Because I want us to be prepared for anything that may or may not go wrong.”

She rolled her eyes and lifted a hand to her runny nose. “Do you even want a baby?”

“You know I do, Connie. It’s what we’ve both wanted for so long, but you’re sick,” I said. “I’m just scared.”

“Don’t you think I’m petrified?”

“You are one of the bravest people I’ve ever met,” I admitted.

“Well, believe it or not, this whole thing is scaring the life out of me. For the first time ever, I’ve no control,” she cried. “But I don’t want to miss out on the chance of us being a family, even if it’s just one baby.”