Battle Hearts (Storm MC Reloaded 3)

“It’s time for your shot,” I say.

She nods. “Tonight I want you to tell me your favourite boy and girl names out of all the names we’ve talked about.”

I knew this question was coming. Ten points to me for anticipating it and having an answer ready.

I jerk my chin. “You get ready; I’ll get the shot.”

When I come back with the needle, she’s sitting in the armchair in the corner of our bedroom where she always does her shots. I kneel in front of her while she pulls her T-shirt up. As I pinch her tummy and inject the needle, I say, “My favourite names are Chelsea and Oliver.”

Her face fills with a smile. “I didn’t think you’d know your favourites.”

“Good to know I can still surprise you.”

“What about middle names?”

I should have known that was coming. “I don’t think we need middle names.”

“Bullshit.”

I finish the injection and dispose of the needle in the sharps container. “I’ll have to get back to you on the middle names.”

She leans forward, her eyes lighting up and her voice softening as she says, “We’re going to make a baby in a couple of days.”

I place my hands on her thighs. “Yeah, baby, we are.”

“I don’t like fighting with you.”

“I don’t like it either.”

Her forehead rests against mine and she clutches my T-shirt. “This has been so much harder t

han I ever imagined. I hope we never have to go through it again.”

“I thought you wanted two kids.”

She lifts her head to find my eyes again. “I did. I do. God, I don’t know anymore. All I know is my mind’s a mess. The messiest it’s ever been, and some days, I can’t think straight enough to even know whether you’re being an asshole or not, let alone to think about doing this all over again.” She pauses. “How many kids do you want?”

If she’d asked me this before we started IVF, I would have said two. Now, I’d be the happiest man alive to have one child. I’m not keen to watch Birdie go through this again. “I just want to be a dad, and I only need one kid to do that. If you want more than one, I’ll stretch to two, but don’t ever ask me for three.”

Her smile washes over me. “I love you, Winter.”

“I love you, too.” Those three little words don’t come close to describing what I feel for Birdie. Even when she’s fighting with me, I still feel more love for her than I can verbalise. I agree wholeheartedly that this IVF cycle has been harder than I imagined. I was prepared for a hard time, but when you’re watching the woman you love and would die for go through what Birdie’s gone through, and you’re unable to take any of the burden, the word “hard” is lacking. I too hope we never have to go through it again.

13

Birdie

* * *

“Birdie,” Winter says as I turn up the TV in our private room in the IVF clinic. “Lie down and take some deep breaths.”

“No,” I say, wondering if he’s right. Maybe I do need to take some deep breaths. I feel like I could do with the oxygen. “I’m going to help you with this. I told you I would. I just wanna make it as easy for you as possible. I mean, no man wants to be jerking off while everyone walking past the room can hear him.”

We arrived at the clinic at 7:00 a.m. this morning for our egg collection and had to wait hours to be called. There are ten other couples here today doing the same thing, which is apparently a lot. I’m kinda pleased they’re busy today; it means the collection room is busy, and as a result, we were asked if Winter wanted to create his specimen in the private room we’ve been assigned. I just love the way the nurse said “create your specimen.” Winter didn’t react, but I acted like a fucking idiot and giggled. Just once, but it was embarrassing. I swear it’s a combination of the drugs and my nerves causing me to act so weirdly. Since we were shown to our room, I’ve been unable to relax. I mean, they left a Do Not Disturb sign on the door. Hello, is that not announcing to the world what’s going on in here? I feel for Winter. This has to be awkward for him, and I just want to make it as unawkward as I can; hence I’ve turned the TV up in preparation for what we’re about to do.

“Don’t worry about me,” he says. “I don’t give a fuck if the whole of Melbourne hears me jerk off.” He glances at the television. “And the last thing I need is to do it to an Everybody Loves Raymond fucking soundtrack.”

“You’re just saying that to calm me down.” I cock my head. “I mean, isn’t this weird for you? It’s fucking weird for me.”