all things must pass » the beatles, queen and the backstreet boys

17- Kevin Richardson

With shaking hands that could barely even hold it, I picked up the white stick I so dreaded for yet the 12th time in the past 3 months.

Preparing myself for a huge disappointment as I had received all those past times, I inhaled deeply before daring to look at the pregnancy stick.

Another negative.

This time, I just couldn't help myself. With a heavy heart, my body felt even heavier than it ever was. Dropping my knees as I collapsed near the sink, I let the tears, which I'd been penting up inside since the beginning of our trials, finally loose.

I couldn't do anything but sob at the very idea that I was incapable of doing what all women were able of. I cried as pitifully as possible, thinking of how absolutely devastated my husband would be if I revealed to him this test again. I thought of how enamored he was by the idea of having kids running around in our house, painting our walls with happiness and pure love, and I buried my face in my hands.

Pure shame.

I couldn't grant Kevin the happiness he so wanted and most definitely deserved.

So absorbed in my crying and lamenting session, I failed to notice the creak of the door.

"Baby?" came his soft voice through the small crack, "Can I come in?"

Picking myself up from the floor, I bit my lip in order to stop the tears as I opened the door for him, but to no avail. The very moment I saw his soft smile and big emerald eyes, I was done for.

Tearing up once again, I couldn't even look him in the eyes. He glanced at the pregnancy stick on the sink, and put two and two together. Shutting the door behind him, he gently wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to his warm chest. He did so in such a loving way, it broke my heart to think of how I couldn't even give him what he'd wanted for years.

"It's okay," he softly said, bringing one hand up to brush my mess of hair back, "Don't beat yourself up, please," shaking my head at his words, he refused to let go of me, his other hand falling to rub my back.

"I can't help it," I sobbed into his t-shirt, squeezing my eyes shut, "I want this for us. More than anything."

At that, he pulled away with his breezy expression, keeping me at arm's length as he tilted my chin up to look him straight in his eyes, "And we'll get it. We will one day, I'm sure of it."

"Kevin, we've been trying for months, and nothing's happened," I exasperatedly said with my eyes glossing over, "We've had sex in literally every corner in the house and it's not working one damn bit."

He cracked a small smile at the memories, wiping the trails of tears from my cheeks with his thumbs, "No rush. We'll keep trying for another 20 years if we have to. I don't know when we'll conceive. But what I do know, is that we'll have a child or two running around soon enough."

"But is faith enough to keep us going?" I asked quietly, causing him to frown and sit down on the covered toilet seat, pulling me down to sit on his lap.

"What's really on your mind baby?" he enquired with his hand in mine.

"What if you get sick of trying with me?" I gulped as I could see him frown, "What if our difficulties pushed you away?" I whispered.

He sighed, "I don't know what or who ever made you believe that leaving you is a possible option, but I can assure you it's impossible."

"But what if---"

His lips crashed onto mine, almost attacking mine as his hands cupped my cheeks. With his mouth probing and nipping at my lips, he was pouring every single emotion which he'd refused to show in this kiss. As I kissed him with just as much fervor, I clutched onto his shoulders, holding him as tightly as though he were my lifeline.

Pulling away gently, his forehead rested against mine.

Breathlessly, he spoke again, "I love you, okay? Nothing will ever change that," he gave me another small peck, "If it makes you feel any better, I'll phone a doctor. Is that okay?"

Nodding, I bit my lip a little. I often was in awe of how few words Kevin spoke, yet how calming they were, and how concisely he chose them. It simply made him, well, so him. And I loved every inch of him, unconditionally.

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