I failed. I failed you. I failed us. And it guts me that I can’t give you the one thing you really want in life.
Sadly, I don’t see a future for us that doesn’t revolve around getting pregnant or having a child. Even if we tried sperm donation as we’d discussed, your doctors have warned us that it may not work. And if we decided on adoption, it could take years of waiting and more disappointment.
That’s why I pushed so hard for the IVF. I felt it was a last-ditch effort and possibly our best chance. When it didn’t work, I felt we might be in for an even longer road.
But I’m exhausted from all the disappointment. From the one week with slivers of excitement because maybe you could be pregnant, to the months after of mourning the fact that you’re not.
This is not your fault, Ava. It’s mine. It’s all on me. I’m owning up to the fact that I simply can’t go on pretending that this way we’ve been living is okay. I’ve pledged my life to helping people. And it wrecks me that the person I love the most in this world is the one person I can’t help.
I have no idea what will happen when I come home. Maybe I don’t even deserve to. Maybe I should go somewhere else, start over, and let you live in peace in the town you love knowing you won’t have to see the man who failed you so miserably.
Perhaps I’ll move to the city and commute to the hospital where the chances of us running into each other are slim. I’ve got time to work it out. And I wanted to give you time to process this.
I want only the best for you, Ava. And I truly hope someday you get everything you’ve ever dreamed of. You deserve it. And you certainly deserve better than a selfish guy who can’t stick around to support you when the going gets tough. I understand if this makes you hate me. It makes me hate myself knowing I’m hurting you. But what we’ve gone through the past ten years… hasn’t that been hurting us too?
It’s like the frog and the water. If you put a frog in hot water, he’ll immediately jump out. If you put him in cold water and let it slowly heat up, he’ll boil to death. A poor metaphor, I know, but somehow we let our lives slowly change. Eventually, it all became about that one thing. And we never recognized that in doing so, we were slowly chipping away at us; the foundation of our marriage; who we used to be.
We got really good at pretending it was all okay. We convinced each other everything would be wonderful once we had a baby. But we have to ask ourselves the hard question… would it? If we couldn’t truly be happy and satisfied with just each other, could having a child change all that?
Continuing to live this way feels like a constant state of purgatory. And it isn’t fair to either of us.
Maybe I’ll regret this one day. I’m fairly positive I will. Because the thought of you with another man is unconscionable. But that’ll be on me, too.
I love you, Ava. I’ll always love you. And I truly hope one day you find the happiness you’re searching for.
~Trevor
Chapter Forty-Four
Trevor
Driving home, I’m still on an adrenaline high. While yesterday was nothing but false alarms and mundane calls, I hit the jackpot early this morning when we got the call that Tucker McQuaid, the wealthiest man in Calloway Creek, was on the floor of his bathroom suffering a presumed heart attack.
I don’t even feel guilty about how alive it made me feel. I mean, if the geriatric billionaire was going down, why not have it be me who saved him?
An ordinary run-of-the-mill paramedic without my medical background may not have even been able to keep him alive. But because of me, the man will live long enough to have the life-saving surgery he most likely needs. I’ll admit, part of me is bummed I won’t be the one performing it. Because, damn, no matter how much I’ve loved the past twenty-four hours, I’d kill to get back in the operating room.
It’s a curious thought considering I don’t actually remember being in one. But just like how I’m drawn to Ava, maybe it’s my subconscious drawing me to surgery. Cutting. Saving lives.
For now, I’ll be content in the fact that because of me, Tucker’s wife Rose—who was a hot mess during the call—willget to have more time with the man she’s only been married to for a few years. Because of me, his grandchildren and great-grandchildren get to have him around longer than they would have.
I pull into our driveway, excited about telling Ava how my first shift went. She said she wanted me to wear the uniform to bed when I got home. Does that mean she’s going to be here? Did she take the morning off so she’d be around after my first day back?
Anticipation courses through me as I plow through the front door and make a beeline to our bedroom, unbuttoning my shirt along the way. I step into the room and look around. The bed is unmade, but she’s not in it.
“Ava?” I walk into the bathroom. She’s not there. “Babe?” I say, going into the kitchen, wondering how she didn’t hear me come home.
But there’s no sign of her. I guess she decided to go into work after all. She’s a creature of habit if nothing else.
Which is why it’s unusual that she left the bed unmade.
A bit disappointed she wasn’t here with bells on, I resign myself to shower and change and then head over to the coffee house. Maybe I’ll be able to convince her to knock off early today for a little afternoon delight.
I smile as I leave the kitchen. I haven’t had to do much convincing to get her where I want her. Which is under me. Over me. In front of me. On top of me. We’re like young lovers in perpetual heat. Was it like this for us before? If it was, I was a damn lucky man.
On my way to the bedroom I see a large box in the living room that I’m sure wasn’t there yesterday. And there’s a duffle bag on the floor next to it. Looks like a military-issued one. I stare at it contemplatively. Do I dare even bother? I don’t think Ireally care about anything in that bag. Maybe I’ll tell Ava to just toss it.
Then a piece of paper on the floor by the coffee table draws my attention. I walk over, pick it up, and read the first few lines.
