Regret Me

Cartier

"Negative," Lizzie sighed, seven weeks later, throwing yet another pregnancy test into the bin.

"We'll try again," I smiled sadly.

She hummed and nodded, leaving the bathroom with her head down and making her way back to our bedroom to get ready.

Today was my 30th birthday and it was anything but happy.

We thought a big party would lift our spirits, but I ended up cancelling it last week after our third negative pregnancy test. After three rounds of unsuccessful IUI, we were both starting to lose hope, so today we were only spending the day with her family, none of whom knew about us trying for a baby, apart from Ashley and her husband.

"Do you want to try IVF?" I asked.

She shook her head, looking at me through the reflection in the mirror, "it's not going to work babe, IUI had a better chance and it's just not working."

"We always knew it was going to be hard," I smiled sadly.

She nodded, running the straightener over the hair and blinking quickly so her tears didn't ruin the makeup that she had just done.

"If it's meant to happen, it will, right? That's what we keep saying?" she smiled at me, a glimmer of hope still in her eyes.

"Exactly," I exhaled in one breath, "it'll happen when the correct time comes."

"Some things are magical," she decided.

"You are magical," I smiled softly, wrapping my arms around her neck and kissing the side of her head with our eyes on the mirror, looking at each other.

"Do you feel old yet?" she smirked,

"I feel exactly the same," I laughed out my nose.

"You look older," she joked.

"Shut up," I giggled, lightly hitting her chest.

She gave me a small wink and leaned back into me.

"You sure you don't want to open your presents yet?" Lizzie asked me softly.

"I'll open them when the others get here, thank you anyway," I smiled back, kissing the side of her head again before going to get dressed.

"Wait, can you open one now?" she asked, "you can wear it today if you want."

"Okay," I giggled.

After taking a small, wrapped gift from Lizzie's hand, she sat on the bed next to me in a baggy white summer dress with flared sleeves and a bottom that stopped in the middle of her thighs. Her hair, as I said, hung straight down her back, the bob she cut seven months ago now long grown out and some face-framing pieces sat softly by her cheeks.

"Open it and stop gawking at me," she smirked.

I smiled with a nod and ripped away at the paper to reveal a tight black bell-sleeved dress. Biting my bottom lip, I ran my hand over the material and looked up at her lovingly.

"This is beautiful," I expressed, "thank you baby, truly."

"You're welcome," she beamed, "thought it would be nice for your party but since we're not having a party ... it can be nice for your birthday lunch."

"It's perfect," I agreed, standing up and taking off my oversized shirt to put the dress on.

Once it had fallen down over my body, I put my hands on my hips and looked back over at her.

"Well?" I asked.

"Gorgeous," she whispered, holding her hands out toward me.

"Today is going to be hard," I nodded, taking her hands and exhaling slowly.