2
Ember
My mind raced about as fast as my heart. I stared at my ugly nails, wishing I was at the salon getting a manicure instead of my doctor’s office. All weekend, I’d been picking the red polish off while considering my future and dreading Monday’s arrival.
I still didn’t know what I’d do when my doctor asked me for my decision.
My gaze darted between my mom and Birdie, and all I saw were their shadows. The tension in the small office could rival the whiteout conditions we’d had a couple of weeks ago. Chaotic. Thick. Frightening.
January had the propensity to unleash the worst weather in Minnesota, full of subzero temperatures and blizzards. This year seemed to unfold just as it had my whole life. Having grown up in the Upper Midwest, I was used to it. But did I need to experience shitty conditions in the doctor’s office, too?
I focused my attention on the female reproductive poster on the wall behind my doctor’s desk, turning my options over in my head for the millionth time. There were so many pros and cons to consider, I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed as I faced my monumental decision.
Why? The single word sliced through my thoughts.
Why?
Why?
Why?
I’d known this day would eventually come. But I’d prayed for a miracle. A miraculous healing so I could live a full, happy life… on my terms.
But today wasn’t how I liked to start a new week, especially in the Cities.
I had a love-hate relationship with Minneapolis because of my doctor’s appointments. Loved the Twin Cities when Birdie and my other friends came for a girls’ weekend. Or when I was younger, and my parents brought Gabe and me to the Mall of America. Those had been some fun trips.
But everything had changed when I turned seventeen and not much made me happy anymore. If I said yes to the procedure, a lot of wonderful things could come of it and put an end to my misery I’d been enduring for years.
Despite my mom finding the best “lady doctor” to treat me, I was so sick and tired of being poked and prodded. Completely over having my vagina invaded by my woman doctor.
At twenty-one, I was still a virgin, and not because I wanted to be. Several times, I’d tried to have sex, but my evil condition would flare up at the worst moment. I’d end up jerking the dude off because I felt bad for getting him worked up and not following through.
I’d recently stopped dating Trey for that very reason, and he was just too nice for my taste. So nice that he’d shown me compassion and understanding when I’d told him I had female issues down there. I’d thought I might scare him away, but not a chance. He had wanted to support me and didn’t care about sex. See? Too nice. It ended up being me to break it off with him. And he cried. And I had felt like a heartless witch.
The nightmare that had become my life kept me from enjoying the simple pleasure of dating and sex. I was fucking over it all.
Why couldn’t I be a normal woman? Why, why, why?
Had I been cursed? Condemned for a sin I had committed? Wasn’t the punishment extreme if I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve it?
Inhaling a deep breath, I placed my hand on my stomach and swallowed my fear. All I wanted was to be pain free. Was that too much to ask for?
“Are you sure about this?” Mom whispered as she squeezed my hand, her sable-brown eyes mirrored mine—full of concern and tears.
“She doesn’t have to do it today.” Doctor W’s voice gently tugged my attention away from my mom’s beautiful face. “Just because we’ve prepared you for the procedure, we can do it next month, but I wouldn’t delay too much more than a few months. The window of opportunity to conceive is narrowing.” She considered me with a professional, unemotional expression. I appreciated her delicate way of saying pick either a baby or a hysterectomy.
“No pressure, huh?” I elbowed Birdie on my other side. She wasn’t with me for only moral support. We’d lied to my dad and hers that we were going dress shopping for Sadie’s and Bryce’s wedding. It was more of a half-truth. We’d gone to the bridal shop before my appointment to look around, but we had six months to pick and order our dress. And honestly, I was hesitant to buy mine. If I moved forward with the procedure, I might be pregnant and as big as a house in June.
“I already told you. I’ll be your surrogate when you’re ready. Let them harvest your eggs, then do the hysterectomy.”
“But I want to experience carrying my own baby.” I appreciated her offer and resolve to being my baby cooker. But I knew Birdie about as well as I knew myself. She’d bond with my baby, and it would rip out her heart to give it up, just as it would be for me to do the same. “How much time do I have?”
“It’s hard to say,” Dr. W replied. “We’ve been able to manage your pain levels, but without hormone therapy, the disease will continue to spread. Either way, your ability to have a baby is at risk.” Doctor W typed on her laptop, the crease between her eyes deepening the longer she focused on the screen. She’d been the one who diagnosed me with stage two endometriosis. So many questions had been answered after meeting with her.
For years, I’d been dealing with excruciating pain and heavy bleeding during my periods. I’d had the worst high school experience because of it. When my friends went to school dances or it was karaoke night in the clubhouse, I’d been in bed, curled into a tight ball in tears.
I hated my body.
I hated every one of my girlfriends for being normal.
I hated everything.
After my high school graduation, I’d entered stage three. My hopes of going to college to be a teacher like my mom had been stolen from me. What was worse was I knew what people said about me being a moody bitch. Nobody in the compound had actually called me a bitch. My mom and Auntie Maddy would have shut it down. But I’d been confident many thought about it, because I would have.
I’d been in constant pain while trying to live a normal life, and it had been difficult to be nice when everything annoyed me. Happy people made me crazy with envy. My rude, snarky attitude had made it difficult for me to tolerate just about anything.
My mom had tried to convince me to tell our MC family what I’d been going through, but I’d made her promise to not speak a word of it. Well, except for Maddy and Birdie, who were both of our closest friends. And of course, my dad.
God, my dad. He’d been my hero from day one. He’d brought me my favorite treats when I was laid up in bed, writhing in pain. Because of him, I never ran out of my favorite sour apple candies. Every month, he’d refill my glass jar on my bedside table and set a fresh bouquet of flowers next to it.
My dad had been so sweet and loving. Protective to the max after he found out about my condition. And he’d kept my secret and made excuses for my rotten behavior.
It killed me to lie to him about this appointment. But we all knew he wouldn’t support my decision to have a baby on my own. He was old-fashioned and stubborn. When my mom had told him how serious my endometriosis was and that my baby bearing years were limited because I’d have to get a hysterectomy, he’d blown her off. To Hero Fuentes, if God didn’t give me a baby the good old-fashioned way, it wasn’t meant to be.
How could he believe I wasn’t meant to be a mother? I adored babies and children. I wanted to be an elementary school teacher and have ten kids.
Okay, ten was a lot. But I wanted as many as I could have before my doctor cut my uterus out of my body.
I didn’t need a husband to have a baby. I could care for my child by myself, and had the best family a girl could ask for with the Knight’s Legion MC. The old ladies and my MC cousins would help me.
Of course, if the right man had come along, I might feel differently, but…
Not one of my boyfriends had been husband or daddy material.
Not one of them could handle my hot—cold attitude and how I’d drop off the planet for weeks at a time.
Not one of them could hold a candle to Dante Montez.
“Let’s do it.” The words spilled from my mouth as I pictured Dante. Not once had he contacted me after he left for the army. Stupidly, it hurt. But I wouldn’t let thoughts of a future with him interfere with my decision today. He wouldn’t return for five more months. Time wasn’t on my side to see if we might reconnect.
For all I knew, he might have a girlfriend. Or he might try to get Birdie, which would never happen. I knew her heart belonged to Raymond, even if he didn’t want her.
My mom gave my hand a gentle, supportive squeeze.
“Can I look at the donor I picked one more time?” I asked Dr. W.
“Of course.” She passed me the paper. “I’ll be right back.”
After she left the room, I studied the details of my sperm donor. He had brown hair and eyes, and an athletic build. He played football in college and had a degree in sports medicine. The donor seemed pretty perfect, and the pictures of him as a baby and child reminded me of Dante.
“Your baby will be adorable.” Birdie leaned against me and stared at the paper. “I can’t wait to be an auntie.”
“I might not get pregnant the first time. Or second or third.” The thought of it never happening had me blinking back tears. “I just want one of my own.”
“I feel it deep in my heart, my love. You’ll have your own.” My mom put her arms around me and Birdie. “We just need to prepare for your dad to blow his top. You know he expects you and Dante to end up together.”
“Which is ridiculous, considering I haven’t spoken to him since the night of his party.”
“Dante’s been busy.” Birdie always defended him and made excuses for him ghosting me.
“I don’t care. I need to do what’s right for me.”
“What if you having a baby is a deal-breaker?” my mom asked.
“So what? There’s nothing between us. He won’t be back until right before the wedding. I’m doing this.” Time wasn’t on my side. I didn’t have a crystal ball to look into the future to see if Dante was the one, so I wouldn’t put off having a baby for what if.
Just then the door opened, and Dr. W entered. “Okay, Ember. If you’re ready, I’m ready.”
I looked at my mom, then Birdie. With not a single doubt in my mind, I said, “I’m ready.”