Chapter 24
AXEL
The doc’s room is too bright.
The lemon in the air claws up my nose, the yellow cushions glare like warning signs, and that green plant in the corner feels like it’s mocking me with life.
I resist the urge to press a hand to my throbbing skull. I feel like I’ve pulled an all-nighter on Theo’s whisky and refused to admit defeat. Except it ain’t whisky this time. Just zero sleep. And too much adrenaline.
Taylor sits beside me, her hand locked in mine, tension flickering through her skin in tiny bursts.
‘Thank you for agreeing to see us so late in the day, Ms Ellingham,’ she says, her voice too weak to bear. ‘Your phone call suggested you’d found something worth discussing, and I just… we couldn’t—’
Stand to wait a second longer, my head finishes when she can’t.
Across from us, the doc folds her hands on the desk, eyes kind in a way that makes everything worse.
‘I’m afraid there’s never an easy way to say this…’
Taylor freezes as the doc’s gentle voice hits me like a sledgehammer.
‘…but before I do, I want to stress that there are options available to you. Real options. Okay?’
One of us nods. I don’t know who.
I’m too busy keeping my arse glued to the seat.
‘Based on your results,’ she continues, ‘the issue lies primarily with the sperm production. The levels are extremely low, and what there is, shows very high rates of fragmentation and abnormality.’
Extremely Low.
Fragmentation.
Abnormality.
Each word lands like a steel-toed kick to my chest. My spine burns. My ears roar.
‘This isn’t anything you caused,’ she adds, looking to me. ‘Male-factor infertility is more common than people realise. And it’s nobody’s fault.’
Except mine.
Taylor inhales beside me – barely a sound, but it splinters right through me. Like I can see it: my DNA fracturing under a microscope. Scientific proof that I’m faulty.
‘But…’ Taylor swallows, her voice barely audible. ‘What does that mean? Practically?’
‘It means,’ the doc says in that same gentle tone that hammers it in deeper, ‘that natural conception would be extremely unlikely. Even with assistance, with our most advanced methods… we would be working with sperm that are struggling at a biological level to create healthy embryos.’
Poison: that’s what I said, that’s what I am.
A deranged laugh bubbles up, choking up my chest.
Taylor glances my way, her fingers tightening around mine as I stare straight ahead.
And she knows it now, too.
‘But there are paths available to you,’ the doc stresses again. ‘They’re not easy, and they’re not guaranteed… but they exist. IVF with ICSI. Potential retrieval procedures. Further consults. We will walk you through them all.’
Taylor nods quickly, too quickly. ‘So… you’re not saying there’s zero chance.’
The desperate hope in her voice is like a knife to the heart.
‘No, not zero,’ the doc says, the compassion in her eyes twisting right through me. ‘But the odds are very small. And the journey would likely be long, emotionally demanding, and expensive. Multiple cycles. Many failures. But—’
‘Money isn’t an issue,’ Tay says immediately.
The doc nods like she’s heard it a million times before.
And it crushes me, because we worked damn hard to get where we are, but what’s money when it can’t buy you what you want most? A heartbeat. A life.
And it ain’t the thing that costs the most either.
It’s the emotional toll of going through treatment…
I see her in the shower that morning. Crushed. Broken. And it destroys me all over again. Because it was me all along. I caused that pain. I put it there.
And that morning will likely be one of many, each more devastating than the last if she continues down this road with me.
That’s the road I see reflected in the doc’s eyes as she turns her focus entirely on Taylor. ‘You have a relatively good ovarian picture for thirty-eight. You have some time, but it isn’t endless. Using donor sperm would give you the highest chance of conceiving soon and delivering safely.’
Taylor’s breath hitches. ‘But I want his child.’
And my world – what’s left of it – drops out from under me.
The doc nods, slow. ‘I understand. And that matters. Truly. But if your goal is for you to carry your own biological child, donor sperm gives you the strongest chance. I’m not telling you what to choose. I’m giving you the full picture so that you may both decide.’
The full picture.
And I’m the empty space in it. The one firing blanks. The nothing.
My jaw locks. My pulse slams through my skull.
The doc keeps talking. Pathways. Options. Steps forward. While Tay questions her in a voice that trembles and tries to stay steady. When she releases my hand to rake hers through her hair, I curl mine into a fist and drag it back to my thigh.
Finally, there’s a lull; we’re done.
I’m on my feet and Taylor follows, clutching a stack of leaflets like a life preserve.
At the door, the doc stops me.
‘If you have any questions at any time, please call. There are people you can talk to. Other men who—’
‘I’m good, Doc.’
I just need her to stop. No more words. No more blows.
Taylor threads her fingers through mine as we walk out, and I let her – but I don’t feel any of it. No heat. No comfort. Just a hollow ache that widens with every step.
Because I didn’t want this once.
Not kids. Not fatherhood.
Not any of it.
Until her.
Until she planted the seed.
And now it’s gone.
Gone before it ever had a chance to grow.
Ripped out by the roots and crushed by the weight of what I’ll never be.
It’s bad enough that I can’t give the woman I love what she wants most in this world. But the truth is brutal in its finality:
I’ll never be a dad.
Not ever.
And it hurts.
Hurts in a way I never knew was possible… and I don’t know how to come back from it.
Taylor
I can feel every reinstated brick in his wall as we head outside, the ice on the ground nothing compared to the chill building between us.
Without a word, he unlocks his SUV and expects me to follow.
Which I do.
Because what else can I do?
Shake him until he talks?
His hands clamp the steering wheel like he’s trying to strangle it, jaw clenched so tight his temples pulse, his beard masking the rest. Masking. Fuck.
There’s no mask now.
Just pain.
I watch him from the corner of my eye. He’s pale. So pale. Like Ms Ellingham’s verdict cut him open, and he hasn’t realised he’s bleeding yet.
I want to reach for him – God, I want to – but I don’t. He looks too brittle to touch. Like one wrong move and I’ll shatter him completely. Or blow this whole thing wide open.
When he finally pulls up outside my building, he kills the engine but doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Doesn’t even blink.
I unclip my seatbelt, but he makes no move to do the same.
‘Please Ax,’ I try, barely above a whisper. ‘Talk to me.’
‘I can’t do this.’
His voice slices through the car – flat, final – and my insides freeze over. He’s not talking about conversation. Or coming upstairs. My heart kicks against my ribs, panic clawing up my throat.
‘You can’t do this right now?’ I turn to face him fully. ‘Or you can’t do this ever?’
That’s when the air leaves him. Like I’ve knocked it out with a fist.
‘Did you not hear what she said in there?’ he grits out. ‘I can’t give you the child you so desperately want. And that was the deal, Tay. A baby.’
‘I don’t care,’ I insist, leaning closer. ‘It doesn’t matter. There are options, things we can—’
‘It doesn’t matter?’ His laugh is a rasp, broken and brutal. ‘You don’t care?’
The blood drains from my face, realising how it sounds.
‘I can’t give you the thing you want most in the world – and you don’t care? I can’t be a father, Tay. Not now. Not ever. And that doesn’t matter?’
His voice cracks violently at ‘father’, like the word itself guts him.
And that’s when I realise: it was no longer just my dream; it was his too.
‘You know that’s not what I meant.’
My God, I think I’m going to be sick.
‘Ain’t it?’ he throws back, breath shaking. ‘Taylor, I can’t have a child. Not with you. Not with anyone. It’s there, set in stone. My blood is fucked.’
‘She said there was still a chance—’
‘No, there ain’t!’ He tears his hands through his hair. ‘Read between the lines. It’s never gonna happen. I ain’t putting you anywhere near that kind of pain to try.’
‘But that’s my choice.’
‘And this is mine.’
‘Please don’t do this, Ax.’
‘No, you don’t do this,’ he says hoarsely. ‘I didn’t even want this. I’d never even considered it, until…’
He looks at me then – really looks – and the devastation in his eyes wrecks me all over again.
‘You put the idea in my head,’ he rasps out. ‘And suddenly, it mattered. Suddenly, I could see it. Us. A baby. A family.’ His breath falters, breaks. ‘And now it’s gone. Before it even existed.’
I reach out, desperate for him, but he flinches like I’m fire.
‘Don’t.’
‘Ax, please, I’m so sorry,’ I plead.
‘Not as sorry as I am.’ He grips the wheel once more, eyes fixed ahead. ‘I need to be alone, Tay… please. Get out.’
‘But I—’ This can’t be happening. It can’t. ‘I love you.’
His knuckles flash white. The only sign he heard me.
‘Don’t do this,’ I beg, tears burning hot. ‘Not like this.’
‘I said, get out.’
I swallow hard, reaching for the door handle, fingers trembling, heart pleading: please stop me, please change your mind, please please please.
He doesn’t.
I step out and close the door, eyes trained on him through the glass.
He doesn’t even look at me, but his face is ravaged by it. Not the pain he’s inflicting on me, but the grief for a life he didn’t even know he wanted.
A child.
Fatherhood.
A version of himself he never pictured… until me.
I did that.
I cover my sob with my hand, turn and flee. Wave down my concerned concierge as I fly past, bashing the lift button until it opens and once I’m inside, I let it out. My entire body convulsing with the truth.
The finality of it.
I’ve lost him.
Axel.
Not the baby we started all this for.
Not the dream that pushed us into each other’s arms.
Him.
The man who cracked open my chest and showed me what it meant to love someone so much, it hurts.
The man who taught me to trust.
The man who made me want it all. My very own fairy tale. Not just a child, but a life, a home – with him.
And he ended it. Ended it because he thinks he can’t give me what I want most in this world.
But what I want most is him.
I don’t care about DNA.
I don’t care about biology.
I don’t care about whose cells combine with mine.
I just want him.
I want us.
And now… I’ve lost him.
I sink to the floor, the leaflets scattering all around me as the sobs take over. I can’t bear it. Not alone. I dig my phone out of my coat and ring the one person I know will catch me.
‘Hey Tay!’ comes Sadie’s chipper greeting, ‘I was just—’
‘I need you,’ I whisper, choking on the words. ‘I need you, sis.’
There’s a beat of silence. Then:
‘Where are you?’
‘Home. London.’
‘I’m already on my way.’
Axel
I watch her walk away, every muscle in my body screaming to go after her.
To drag the words back down my throat.
To not be this man.
But I am.
I’m the depraved son of a bitch who used her baby bargain to get close.
I’m the foolish bastard who took her over and over and let hope – stupid, delusional hope – crawl under his skin.
Hope that I could keep her, be worthy of her.
Not just her body, but her mind, her soul, her future, her everything.
A fantasy and a lie and all my doing.
I deserve this hell.
She never did.
I slam the car into gear and tear off into the night, letting the darkness finish what loving her started.