I blink, focusing on the paint swatch. It’s nice. Classic. But… “It’s okay but maybe a little cold? I don’t know, I was thinking something warmer. Like a nice beige or taupe.”
Cam gives me a look. “Beige? Taupe? Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”
I roll my eyes, shoving playfully at his shoulder. “I can appreciate a nice neutral. I think neutral on the walls would go nicely with the cabinets and the beachy theme, but we could go for something stronger.”
We try a few more colors, each one more disastrous than the last, until eventually we paint a square of something aptly called seafoam.
“Ooh, I like that!” Cam says. “It’s perfect with the granite and the tiles we chose.” He turns to me and grins. “I love it.”
I nod, already envisioning our bright, welcoming kitchen-to-be.
“I can’t wait to see it when it’s done,” Cam says, still grinning.
I squeeze his hand, happiness bubbling up inside me. “Me too, babe. But you know the hard work is still to come.”
“I don’t know,” he says. “I think painting is kinda fun.”
“We’ll see if you still think that by the time we’re finished. But it’s getting late. How about a hot chocolate before bed and we can get started on the painting tomorrow night after work?”
“Sounds good. I’ll tidy up here while you get started on the chocolate.”
Cam rinses the brushes and screws the caps back on the sample pots while I prepare a hot chocolate on the new cooker. Soon, the rich aroma of cocoa fills the kitchen, replacing the smell of the paint. We settle on the floor, backs against the newly installed cabinets, steaming mugs in hand.
“So, how’s the new Christmas drinks menu coming along at CC’s?” I ask, blowing gently on my chocolate.
Cam’s eyes light up. “Oh my gosh, babe, you won’t believe how popular the Salted Caramel Mocha has been! We can barely keep up with the demand.”
“That’s amazing, Cam. I knew you’d be onto a winner.”
“And that’s not all,” he continues, “Donna’s been experimenting with some gingerbread recipes, and I think she’s finally nailed it. She’s done some muffins, some cookies, and some tiny gingerbread men. They go perfectly with the Gingerbread Maple Latte. You’ve gotta try it tomorrow.”
“Mmm, sounds delicious. You’re going to make so many people’s holidays brighter with those drinks, you know that?”
Cam ducks his head, a pleased flush coloring his cheeks. “I hope so. I just love spreading a little extra cheer this time of year.”
I press a sweet kiss to his temple, marveling at the beautiful soul I get to call my husband. “And that’s just one of the million reasons why I love you.”
“Want to hurry up and finish your drink so we can go to bed. I want to show you another reason you love me so much.”
I’ve never drunk a mug of hot chocolate so fast before.
Greg
The door clicks shut behind me as I step into the silent house, a stark contrast to the laughter and warmth that filled these walls just last night. My footsteps echo on the hardwood, each step heavier than the last as I make my way to the living room.
Sinking onto the couch, my head drops into my hands as the weight of the doctor’s words truly hit me. Low sperm count. Poor motility. Significantly reduced chances of conception. Makes IVF difficult. The clinical terms rattle around my skull, taunting me with their finality.
I should’ve known. Should’ve realized that even this, the most natural thing in the world, would be just another item on the long list of things my body has failed at. First the accident, now this…
A bitter laugh escapes. All the hours of physical therapy, the countless doctor visits, the nights spent gritting my teeth against the pain as I relearned how to walk properly, how to function. And for what? To be told that I can’t even give my husband the one thing we both want most in this world? The sheer unfairness of it all crashes over me, and I curl into myself on the cushions.
Why me? I feel so damn inadequate. How can I tell Cam? How can I look into those hopeful hazel eyes, still alight with dreams of the family we’ve planned, and give him yet another piece of bad news? My chest constricts at the thought as my eyes burn with unshed tears.
I don’t know how long I lie there, lost in thoughts of how much I’ve let Cam down over the years. He’s stood by my side through thick and thin—surely we deserve for something to go right soon?
He’ll be home soon and I can’t let him find me like this—I need to be strong. Because that’s what you do when you love someone. You fight. You endure. And you find a way through.
No matter how much it hurts.
