“Don’t be silly, Jared.” She put her hand on my wrist, stopping me from typing. “I’m fully capable of driving myself to Maine.”
My teeth ground together again. “Let me at least give you my car.” I put my phone away, my fingers going to her face. “Say yes,” I growled, gazing at her lips, “because I’m not going to let you say no.”
She smiled through my grip. “Yes.”
“Good. Then, it’s settled.”
Except nothing was.
Not a goddamn thing.
FIFTY-FIVE
HONEY
WINTER 1987
“WE HAVE AN ANSWER,” Dr. Katz said to the couple as she stood at the end of Honey’s hospital bed.
Several hours ago, the doctor had completed Honey’s abdominal exploratory surgery, the final test that needed to be conducted so they could get to the bottom of what was wrong. When Honey was out of recovery and placed in a private room, she eagerly anticipated for the doctor to give them her findings. Unfortunately, she’d had another surgery, so the couple had had to wait to hear the news.
Honey held her breath as Dr. Katz looked at the chart in her hands. “It’s endometriosis.”
Honey felt the tightening of Andrew’s hand as he held her fingers, and every fear she’d had was confirmed. This was the reason it had taken her so long to get pregnant, why she had miscarried after eight weeks.
If her husband wasn’t a doctor, she probably wouldn’t have had any of these tests done. But when things had started to get harder for Honey each month, she decided she needed answers. And Andrew fought to get them for her.
While Honey went through all the rounds of tests, she did her research, going to the Portland Library and learning everything she could on female infertility. She found there wasn’t a whole lot of information on the subject, but there was enough where she knew what she was facing.
Endometriosis was a term that had come up frequently.
There was no cure, and she knew it meant the chance of her getting pregnant was slim.
“It’s not the worst news,” Dr. Katz said. “But it certainly presents some challenges. I’m going to have you heal up and come to the office next week, so we can discuss things.” She put her hand on Honey’s foot, which was covered with the blanket. “Make sure to get some rest.”
“She won’t be lifting a finger,” Andrew said.
Dr. Katz nodded. “If you need anything, you have my home number.”
“Thank you,” Honey replied softly, and she watched the doctor leave her room.
Andrew was sitting in the chair beside Honey’s bed, and he squeezed her fingers until she finally looked at him. “You’re going to be a mother.”
“Please don’t say that.” She lifted the hand with the IV attached and covered her mouth with it.
“You want me to say I’m giving up? That I don’t think our dreams will eventually come true? Because I won’t do that, baby.” He kissed the top of her knuckles. “I will always be positive, and that’s one of the reasons you married me.”
Honey stopped fighting back the tears, and she let them fall. “I just want a baby.” She hated that the rottenness had returned to her stomach. The emptiness. The fear of knowing nothing would ever fill her belly, that it would be hollow and sad forever, was consuming her.
Today hurt as badly as when she had miscarried.
Except today, she’d found out how broken her body really was.
“You’ll have one,” he said, brushing his lips over her skin. “I promise.”
Honey was grateful to have such a wonderful man by her side. Someone who believed in her with a strength she didn’t have in herself. Someone who never gave up hope.
She rubbed her thumb across her husband’s face and whispered, “I’m so tired.”
“Do you want me to go?”
“No.”
Andrew got up from the chair and climbed into Honey’s hospital bed. He was careful not to touch her stomach so as not to disrupt any of the incisions, and he settled in next to her. With him there, she felt like she could finally close her eyes.
“You’re going to be a mother,” he said right before she drifted off to sleep.