Waiting For You

Chapter 6: Trigger Shot

Chapter 6: Trigger Shot

Amelia

When you're going through something this big with your partner, it tends to consume your life and every conversation you have with them.

This is especially true when the rest of your family and friends are still completely in the dark. I'll tell you now, after two weeks of IVF this and IVF that, it gets a little tiresome, and we're definitely both glad that his final injection is fast approaching.

It's late Thursday afternoon and I'm doing everything I can to keep busy while Sam is at work. I've vacuumed and dusted the whole apartment from top to bottom. I went to the laundromat and did all of our laundry. I've finally put away all of my winter and spring clothes. There's one bag near the front door filled with clothes my sisters might like to fight over. The other one is going to go to Goodwill.

Now I'm making nachos, not because I'm particularly hungry but because I'm bored.

I wish we had a backyard so that I could go outside and read in the sun, but everything around us is asphalt.

More and more lately I've been feeling homesick. I miss the farm I grew up on. It's only a twenty minute drive, I've been there a few times this summer already, but it's not the same as waking up to an endless stretch of country just outside your bedroom window. I miss going down to the barn every morning to see my horses. I miss the tire swing my dad set up for us when we were little. It's still there almost twenty years later.

I miss spending summer nights stretched out by the creek, listening to silly country songs that somehow managed to accurately describe my love life. I miss sneaking kisses in the barn when Sam used to come over to check on our horses and cattle.

I lean on the counter and check my phone. My lock screen is a picture of us taken last New Year's Eve. He's got his arms around me and we're both laughing at the camera. I put in my password and slide my phone open.

There's another picture of us, taken just a few seconds later. He's kissing me, and it's not just a peck on the cheek. I'm pretty sure one of our friends must've said something, maybe to get a room, because he's pointing the middle finger up.

He's the last person I texted. I tap his name and tell him I miss him and I can't wait for him to come home.

He doesn't text me back. He's probably busy.

I eat a few nachos, sitting alone at the kitchen table looking at my phone. When I feel greasy and full of regret, I put the rest back in the oven so they'll stay warm. Maybe Sam will want a few when he gets home.

I decide to take a bath and shave my legs.

I'm still lounging in the bath, staring at my toes, when I hear the front door of our apartment open and close. Our cat jumps off the vanity, where he's been sitting watching me for the last fifteen minutes. He's gone to investigate.

I hear the jingle of keys being dropped on a hard surface and the sound of Sam's voice as he gives some love to the cat. A few minutes later I see his extended arm poking through the open door of the bathroom. "Are you decent?" he asks in a teasing tone, waving at me.

"No."

I laugh as he walks in anyway and perches himself on the vanity, much like our cat Toby was doing before him. He takes my phone and begins going through my Spotify playlist.

"Was it busy?" I ask.

"Two emergency walk-ins, on top of the scheduled surgery we already had. Miles was off so I was the only vet on staff. I didn't even have time to eat lunch," he huffs.