Chapter 13
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
AVA
“You cannot tell a soul,” I tell Lauren and Sophie. We’re sitting in the corner of the yoga café, sipping at our juices. Lauren didn’t spike them this time, and that’s a good thing, because if I’m going to do this then I need to take care of my body to give myself the best chance.
“I don’t understand. You don’t even like the guy. You walked out of the bar because he offered us a drink.” Sophie frowns. “And now you’re going to have a baby with him?”
“I don’t dislike him. I just…” I widen my eyes, trying to think of the right words. “I just don’t quite understand him. I think somewhere deep inside there’s a good guy waiting to come out.”
“Into a sperm cup,” Lauren says, sniggering.
I roll my eyes. “Stop it.”
“If you’re doing this you can’t be squeamish. He’s going to come into a cup and you’re going to put it inside you and…” Lauren wrinkles her nose. “Well, leave it for a while.”
“I know that. But I’d be doing that even if I ordered frozen sperm. I’d just be defrosting it instead.”
“Like a microwave meal,” Sophie says, looking amused. “Can you defrost it in the microwave as well? Or do you have to leave it at room temperature?”
“Probably tastes better than a TV dinner,” Lauren says, grinning. “I mean, the guy’s perfect. I bet he has perfect sperm, too.”
“We shouldn’t be talking about his sperm,” I say. “It’s intrusive.”
Lauren and Sophie exchange a glance. “So tell us,” Lauren says, leaning forward. “How is this going to work?”
“He provides the sample, I do the rest,” I say simply.
“Yeah, but I want logistics. Is it going to happen at your place or his? Will he jack off in the same room as you or in the bathroom? Will he stay while you inseminate yourself?”
“We’ll do it at mine,” I tell them. “Because I want to be as comfortable as possible. And I assume he’ll do what he needs to do in the bathroom then bring it out.” As for staying while I do the deed, I have no idea. I hadn’t thought about that.
Just talking about it makes me blush. He’s going to be touching himself in my house. He’ll make himself come. The thought of it makes me shift on my chair.
“I still can’t believe you bought the kit from ,” Sophie says. “How amazing is that?”
“It’s not that complicated,” I say to her.
“Pretty much a specimen cup and a syringe.” All wrapped up and sterile, ready to be used.
It’s not the reason I made the decision, but doing it this way is so much cheaper than using the clinic, too.
If it works, that means I’ll have more money for the future, which can only be a good thing.
“How big is the specimen cup?” Lauren asks. “Just so I can picture it.”
Sophie giggles.
“It’s the usual size,” I tell them.
“But is he the usual size?” Lauren asks, wiggling her brows. “Or do you have to get extra large specimen cups, like you can get extra large condoms?”
I give her what I think is a withering stare, but she just grins. “Sorry, it’s just so…” Lauren shrugs. “Exciting and different and unlike you.”
“Yeah, I never thought you’d go for something like this,” Sophie admits. “Not that I think you’re wrong for doing it, but it feels so… personal. Did he really say he’d sign away his rights?”
“His lawyer has already sent me the draft agreement,” I tell her.
I got it yesterday via email. Five pages of legal verbiage which essentially states Myles will sign away all rights except in case of my severe illness or death.
That seems fair to me. If I die, he wants to know his child is still being taken care of, so he should have the right to either have a say over a guardian, or become the parent himself.
“So,” Lauren says, leaning forward, “when will you do the deed?”
“It depends on when I’m fertile.” The kit came with some handy ovulation strips to test for that. “But based on my cycle, it should be in two weeks.”
“Wow.” Lauren’s eyes widen. “So soon?”
“As long as we’ve both signed the agreement and all our tests come back clear, then yes.” A buzz of excitement washes through me. “There doesn’t seem any reason to wait.” And every reason not to. My eggs are getting old, if this doesn’t work I’ll have to find another way.
Sophie breaks out into a smile. “I love how you’re so certain about this. You’re gonna be the strongest momma bear around.”
“And we’ll be the evil aunties,” Lauren says. “Leading your baby astray.”
“Can we at least wait until there is actually a baby?” I ask.
“Sure,” Lauren says, pushing her juice away with disgust. “Come on, let’s go home. You need to get as much sleep as you can, because you sure as hell won’t get any once you have a kid.”
My bravado disappears two weeks later when there’s a knock at the door and I know Myles is on the other side of it. All of our documents have been signed and registered, and according to his reports he’s not only free from STDs but his sperm is gloriously frisky and abundant.
Okay, the medical term was high and motile, but we all know what that means. Basically, Myles Salinger only has to look at a woman to impregnate her. I’m surprised all the women in the office aren’t already knocked up. I have high hopes that this could be a one and done situation.
“Hi,” I say, opening the door. He’s wearing a black v-neck sweater over a white t-shirt and jeans cover his long, muscled legs.
“Hello.” He gives me the softest of smiles. Is he nervous or am I just projecting? Because talking about doing something and actually doing it are two very different things.
And today Myles is going to try to impregnate me without even touching me. This is so weird.
“Would you like a drink?” I ask him as he follows me inside the townhouse. It’s small but perfectly formed. More than enough for one person – or even two once the baby arrives. There are a lot of steps but I’ll put baby gates in. It’ll be fine.
“Water?” he asks, following me into the kitchen. Like the rest of my house, it’s small and it makes him look like a giant. Another inch or two and his head would be skimming the ceiling.
Grabbing a bottle from the refrigerator, I pour out two glasses and pass him one. He takes a sip but says nothing, his blue eyes regarding me with interest.
“So…” I say.
“So,” he replies. Bastard. Ugh, he’s going to make me do this.
“I don’t know how you want to play this, but I’ve put the … ah… equipment you need in the bathroom. But if you’d prefer to lie down, I’ve made up the spare room. Oh,” I say, touching my finger tips to my chin. “Do you need the WIFI password to, um, watch something?”
My cheeks flame. We both know what I’m talking about.
“I have plenty of 5G. But I don’t need to watch something.” Is he biting down a smile? “And the bathroom will be sufficient.” His eyes rake over me. “Where should I bring it when I’m done?”
“My bedroom. I’ll show you.”
“And then I’ll let myself out?”
“Yes, please.” I frown. “Unless you want to stay.” I don’t want to be rude. Or make him feel used. Why aren’t there etiquette books for this?
“What do you want?” he asks, his voice husky. “Isn’t that the most important thing?”
I take a deep breath and think about his question. “I don’t know,” I admit. “It’s my first time.”
His gaze flickers. Then he swallows hard. “How about we play it by ear?” he suggests. “I’ll bring you the sample and if you want me to leave, I’ll leave. If you want me to stay, then I’ll stay. There are no right answers. I’ve never done this before either.”
He’s being so nice, at any other time I’d be worried. “Sounds like a good plan.”
He finishes his glass of water and I show him where my room is before leading him to the bathroom. It was converted from a bedroom, so it’s a good size, with a double walk in shower, a toilet and sink, and a chair where I throw my clothes every evening before I wash off the day.
“I’ve left the container by the sink,” I tell him, pointing at the small plastic cup with a white lid. “You just need to take it out of the wrapper and unscrew the lid.”
He nods. “Got it.”
“Do you need anything else?” I ask him.
“I think I’m good.” He glances at the counter.
“Where will you do it?” I ask. “On the chair?”
For the first time he smiles. “I don’t know. Why do you ask?”
“In case the baby ever asks for his or her origin story,” I joke. I don’t actually know the answer to that. Maybe I’m just trying to drag this out because the next part is going to be excruciatingly embarrassing.
“I think we can keep this part to ourselves, can’t we? Don’t want to cause psychological problems at such a young age.” He’s kidding too, and I like it. Somehow he makes things feel better.
“Sounds like a plan. So when you’re done, I’ll be in the bedroom.”
“It’s usually the other way around. Bedroom then bathroom,” he jokes.
“Conventional is boring,” I tell him. “Myles?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for doing this.”
He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Just looks at me until I feel embarrassed for saying anything.
“You’re welcome,” he eventually says.
I pull the bathroom door closed and head for my bedroom, where I’ve set up the rest of the kit. A syringe and a plastic cap that I’ll put inside of me to keep the sperm where I need it.
I lie down on my bed and stare up at the ceiling for a moment. I’m wearing pajamas – mostly because they’ll be the easiest thing to take off when I need to do the deed. It feels a bit ridiculous to be in them at one in the afternoon, but what else should I wear for this?
A minute passes. Then a second and a third. I start to wonder how long it’s going to take. Maybe he can’t get it up. Maybe he’s having second thoughts. Has he left without saying anything?
I sit up, frowning, then hear a knock on the door.
“Come in,” I say, my voice thin.
He pushes it open. He looks exactly like he did when he arrived at my front door. Unflustered, unflushed.
“Did you change your mind?” I ask him. “Because it’s okay if you have.”
He holds up the container. It’s full of… yeah, I look away quickly, embarrassed.
“Oh. That was quick,” I squeak.
“Exactly what a guy wants to hear,” he says dryly. “Shall I put it on your nightstand?”
“Yes, please.”
He puts it down next to the syringe and I still can’t look at it. It feels too intimate, too personal.
And that’s stupid because I know exactly what I’m going to do with it in a moment. And if I think this is intimate then that’s out of this world.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his brow furrowing.
“Yeah.” I nod. “It’s just a lot to think about, you know?”
“I know.” He glances at me. “If you’ve changed your mind, you don’t have to do this either. I mean, I had fun either way.” He actually winks and it makes my whole body tingle.
Why can’t he be like this every day? People would love him.
“Well that’s a good thing,” I manage. “Imagine if providing a specimen was like having a pap smear every time.”
“The human race would die out.” He glances at his watch. “I don’t want to hurry you, but you only have a few minutes. I’ll leave you to it.”
“Okay.”
“Good luck,” he says. “If that’s not a weird thing to say.”
“Everything about this is weird. Thank you though.” I smile at him and he smiles back, then turns to walk out of my bedroom.
I take a deep breath. “Wait…”
“What?” He glances over his shoulder.
“Can you hang around until it’s done? I’d just feel better if I wasn’t completely alone. You could make yourself a coffee in the kitchen or something.” I pull my lip between my teeth. “Unless you have somewhere else to be.”
“I’ll stay,” he says softly. “Now stop prevaricating.”
He leaves the room this time, closing the door behind him, and I pull my pajama pants off and scramble over to where he left the specimen. The instructions are simple. I’ll be doing an ICI – intracervical insemination. Just a syringe, no tube needed.
In the end, it takes me as long as it took him to provide the sample.
Mostly because I had to psych myself up to actually open the specimen cup, and then because my hands were shaking every time I tried to use the syringe.
But within a few minutes, the deed had been done and I put everything into the waste bag provided, threw it in my trashcan, and had laid back on the bed.
“It’s done,” I call out.
“Sorry?” he yells from the kitchen.
Of course he can’t hear me. I grab my phone and type him the same message.
It’s done. – Ava
His reply comes a moment later.
Shall I go now? – Myles
Actually, can you come up here for a moment? I’m decent. – Ava
I hear the sound of his footsteps on the stairs followed by a soft knock on my door. “Come in,” I call out.
He opens it and leans on the door jamb, his freshly made coffee in hand. “You okay?” he asks, looking concerned.
“Yeah.” I nod, feeling fragile. “This is going to sound stupid, but could you hold me for a minute?” I wait for him to laugh or ask why, but he just puts his coffee on my dresser and walks over to the bed.
Toeing his shoes off to reveal surprisingly bright purple socks, he offers an almost boyish smile as he climbs onto the bed beside me.
His arms wrap around me and he pulls me against his chest, my cheek resting against his muscles. He smells of fresh shower gel, and I assume he washed up before he came over.
For some reason that touches me.
He strokes my hair and it feels so nice. We both lie there silently, Myles staring up at the ceiling, me with my face against his lovely body. It’s not post coital bliss, but it’s sweet, nonetheless. If I had to give my baby an origin story, this would be it.
Your father held me close and made me feel safe. That’s good, right?
“What do you think?” Myles asks after a while. “Did it work?”
“I don’t know. I don’t feel any different.”
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” he says. “And if it doesn’t work this time, there’s always next month.”
“Yeah. If you still want to do this.”
“I do if you do,” he says.
I nod against his chest. “Yeah, I do.”
“That’s good,” he murmurs. He sounds sleepy. I feel a little tired myself. Maybe it’s from all the emotions surrounding today. The anticipation, the anxiety, the knowledge that something may have fundamentally changed inside of me.
Or maybe it hasn’t.
Whatever it is, my eyes get heavy as Myles softly strokes my hair. He dips his head and breathes me in. And if it was anybody else holding me this way I’d be getting turned on. But this is Myles Salinger, and my nipples going hard has nothing to do with him.
The thought dissolves in my mind, as the heaviness of sleep washes over me. My eyelids flutter, my breath evens, and Myles continues to hold me.
And then the worst thing in the world happens.