Giada
Waking up to a cold and empty bed was like a punch in the gut. Especially after the memory I got back last night.
Remember the test results Andrea so generously gave me after the second time we had sex here? The ones confirming I can't have children? Yeah, now I remember getting the news the first time.
Spoiler alert, it hurt more than the second time.
"Why is your face doing that? Nu-uh, lady, this is where you tell me I'm all clean," I tell my gynecologist when she returns. Should I probably not talk to her like that? Yes. Am I weirdly nervous because I just did just get a complete check-up? Also yes.
And the angry bats in my stomach only get more aggressive when the lady musters up a sad smile.
"There's really no easy way to say this. The good news is you're all clean, don't worry," she tells me.
I nod, telling her I understand while I wait for her to go on. My hands are clammy and it takes all my strength not to start bouncing my leg on the seat. But, cazzo, this lady is taking forever to go on and a million worst-case scenarios rush through my head.
(Fuck)
"So, one of the tests we did was on the fertility of your eggs. I'm really sorry. But there are other options to have children these days. I know these are bad news but if you really want a baby, there's always a way," she says.
My racing thoughts come to a sudden halt.
What did she just say?
My mouth goes dry, my eyes prick stupidly all the while I curse myself for coming here alone. I think I could really use a hug right now.
"What are you saying?" I croak unsteadily. Maybe I misunderstood. Ugh, I'm overreacting. Like, why am I already holding back tears? The last thing I need is to fall apart in front of a stranger. Maybe I heard her wrong.
Please.
"I'm saying you can't have children, I'm really sorry. But all the other tests turned out positive. You're perfectly healthy," she says, attempting a cheery voice.
It's not helping me. Not when this stupid iron fist is closing around my heart while those stupid images of how my life would look like in years from now vanish. Going to my first ultrasound? Poof, nope. Feeling my baby kick? Nope, not for me.
"My eggs are broken?" I ask, trying to cover the quiver in my voice by clearing my throat.
But it hurts. It hurts to speak over the lump in my throat and frankly, it hurts to have a beating heart.
Fuck, I feel so dramatic. I mean, I didn't want kids in many years yet. Why can't I cry about it then?
My gynecologist regards me with pity. I hate pity. Still, I don't really care right now because I hate myself more at this moment. Myself and my broken body.
"We don't really call it that, Miss Rossi. Nothing about your body is broken. It just seems that your eggs won't be able to turn into kids," she explains calmly. On any other day, I'd feel bad for her for having to deal with me right now.
But since I'm struggling enough to just take my next breath, I simply nod.
"Can you send me the bill?" I ask as I get to my feet. I pick up my bag with shaky hands and find my way towards the exit through blurry eyes.
"Yes, sure. Are you okay to leave yet? I could call someone?" she asks. Sweet lady, I think even as I shake my head. The thought of anyone else seeing me like this, knowing what's wrong with me would be nothing short of mortifying.
"That's okay. Thank you. Have a nice day," I say, trying not to choke on my words. Her reply is lost in the distance since I'm stumbling into the hall in the next moment.
I rush to my car, tripping over my feet and uneven parts in the ground since my vision has been reduced to a complete mess of random colors. My chest is heaving with heavy breaths, my shaking hands tightening on my crossed arms as I try to pull myself together.
I'm fine. So what if my body can't ever produce a baby? As the lady said, there are other options. Like adoption. Many kids need a home so why not do a good deed for them and me? Besides, all of that is in my future somewhere.
But then my mind goes to a certain dark-haired Italian I've been dating for a few months now. I know we're still fresh and thinking about kids is ridiculous but I can't deny seeing him whenever I think of the future.
But he must want children, right?
Tears are now streaming down my face. Do I have to tell him? As I said, kids are still so far in the future and bringing it up might be weird. But keeping him in the dark could end with him being mad when I do tell him.
God, I feel like such a disappointment.
I start my car, knowing I probably shouldn't drive in this condition but unable to stare at that stupid clinic for any longer. So I wipe away my tears as best as I can with more coming and pull out of the driveway.
Ten minutes later, thank fuck the clinic was so close because I nearly crashed like five times, I pull into my driveway. I finally stop the car and release a deep breath. The drive has helped my feelings to settle a little, reducing them to a dull sense of loss that presses down on me like a heavy cloud.
I close my eyes and let my head drop onto the steering wheel.
A knock on my window makes my head snap up. With a racing heart and a prick of panic, I recognize Andrea staring at me from the other side of the door, his brows furrowed and eyes swimming in worry.
For a beat, I simply stare at him, frozen in shock. What is he doing here? God, I look like a mess. Now I'll have to tell him.
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Chapter for this morning a but earlier since idk how long I'll sleep lmaaooMemory was too long for one chapter so sorry but it's divided on 2 parts:)
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Untangle Me
Romance24-year-old Giada Monti loses everything in a tragic car accident. Not only dies her last living relative but she also loses part of her memory. Having a hard time moving on after a turn like that, Giada finds herself in the clutches of the very ma...