29. Chapter 29
Aspen
We sit in the waiting room of Rhett’s doctor.
The bright fluorescent lights create a glare off the floor.
I think I’ve spent more time in doctors’ offices the last few months than I have in my entire adult life.
Every four weeks for me, and these two of Rhett’s really make them stack up.
Rhett sits beside me, his leg bounces a million miles an hour as his eyes scan the room. His entire body is rigid and tense.
I glide my hand down his forearm and then curl my fingers around his. He grips it hard for a second before his body uncoils, relaxing as much as his anxiety will allow.
“You doing okay?” I ask, running my thumb up and down his where it’s linked with mine.
He gives me a loaded look. He’s one hundred percent sure his worst fears are coming true. He’s the farthest thing from okay. I can’t make this better for him. I can’t will this disease away, but I can love him through it. I can help remind him that life is worth living even with a positive result.
“No matter what happens in that room, I love you. Nothing will change that.”
“I don’t think I could’ve done all this without you.” He gives my hand a loving squeeze.
I lean my body into him, resting my head on his broad shoulder. “You absolutely could’ve. You just needed a gentle shove in the right direction.”
“Honey, I think we have different ideas of subtle.”
I feel his body shake with laughter, and it warms me to know he can still find humor in his hardest moments.
A nurse comes out the swinging door, holding a clipboard. “Mr. Rivers?”
His grip on my hand tightens as we stand and make our way to her. “That’s me.”
“Great, let’s get you to the back and go over those results.” She’s a young blonde thing, with so much pep in her step that I want to smile back at her, even if the situation we’re in makes it hard to.
“Sounds good.” His voice sounds strained, weighed down by worry.
We weave through a hallway of closed doors and nurses’ desks before she places us in the room.
We sit down in a room with no bed, only a desk and a couple of chairs. Definitely not an exam room. Rhett’s hand never lets go of mine.
The nurse opens up her computer, and my guess, skims his chart to see why he’s coming in today.
“Alright, we have your results; the doctor will be going over them. I do see a note to emphasize our apologies for how long some of this took. The lab was backed up, and your initial results were sent to the wrong office. We’ve got it all straightened out, but I know waiting on results like these is tough, and we’re sorry for stringing it out longer. ”
Rhett smiles; it’s empty, but I’m sure he’s trying to be kind. “Things happen. We’re all human, no worries.”
I knew the results were taking forever, but I had assumed that they downplayed how long it actually would take. Doctors like to do that.
“Thank you for your kindness. I’m going to let your doctor know you’re here. In the meantime, do you need anything?” She closes her laptop and gives us both a soft grin. She’s probably amazing to work with.
“Nope, we’re good in here,” I add in.
“Okay, it was great seeing you guys today,” she says as she closes the door behind her.
We sit in silence for a couple of minutes.
While I usually love to fill every moment with some sort of chatter, sitting in silence feels better.
Because there’s not much I can say until we know more.
Nervousness like I've never known before creeps into me. We are minutes away from our lives changing forever. My heart hurts so badly for Rhett, I almost can’t stomach it.
I stare at the pictures on the wall. Green pastures with lots of sunshine.
It almost looks like a place on the ranch.
What I wouldn’t give to be there right now.
A knock at the door startles both of us out of our daydreams. The doctor from the first appointment walks in. “Hey guys. It’s great to see you again. I’m sure you are anxious to go over your test results.”
Rhett nods.
Anxious is the understatement of the century.
His laptop sits in front of him, its light illuminating his face. “The initial labs we got were good, and it looks like we have already called you about those.” He ticks his tongue as he reads further. “Ah, yes. These are the ones we were really wanting.”
Rhett's hand grips mine so tightly, like it’s his last thread from falling off the deep end. I squeeze it back. A silent reminder that I am here for him, and that we will still be great, regardless of what those tests say.
He looks closer at the screen, reading more thoroughly, before a smile cracks his face. “These are all looking great, Rhett. From the looks of it, BMD is not in your future.”
The words ‘not in your future’ hang in the air like a celebratory balloon.
“Are you sure?” Rhett’s voice cracks.
“From these results, yes. I still want you to keep an eye on the symptoms we’ve talked about. Muscle weakness, heart issues, and things of that nature. But, yes, Rhett. It looks like you dodged the bullet.”
Rhett’s head sinks into his hands as his body shakes.
“Thank you so much for giving us good news today,” I say, reaching my hand out to shake his.
“Of course. I’m going to give you guys some time and privacy.
It’s been a pleasure being able to give you good news; I don’t always get to do it.
These moments make the bad ones easier.” He encompasses both of his hands over mine, holding them for a second.
Before letting go, looking at Rhett, whose head is still down, with a smile.
It is very hard giving bad news to patients; I’ve done it more times than I can count, but those days you get to relieve someone of their fear? There’s nothing else like it.
The second the door closes behind him, I let a tear fall. I’ve been trying so hard to hold it all together and be strong for him. The relief that’s in this room is palpable.
Rhett's shoulders still shake.
“I’m so happy for you, Rhett.” I sit back down, rubbing my hand on his back, resting the other one on my belly. “Our boy is going to get to run and play with you for a long time.”
A choked sound comes out of him, and when he looks up, he looks almost haunted. His eyes are red-rimmed from the tears, but it’s more than that. I can see the pain behind them.
“What’s wrong? We got good news?” Confusion dances through my words.
“I am so relieved, but I am so regretful of the time I wasted. Of the hurt I put you through because of my pain.” He shakes his head, looking away from me; his anger makes his jaw grind.
“I could’ve loved you for years now. Instead I pushed you away until you were miserable all for nothing.
” His voice cracks as more tears streak down his cheeks.
My arm tightens around him, then I crouch down in front of him. It’s harder now with the bump, but I need him to look at me and listen.
I cup my hand over his face. “Baby, look at me. Please.”
“I can’t right now. I’m so mad at myself. If I just would’ve had the courage to do this when I was eighteen, we’d probably be married right now.”
I grab on to his arm. “I get that. But don’t you dare waste any more time on a different form of the same thing. I love you, and I love our family that we’re building. We have so much to look forward to; it’d be a damn shame to waste a single second of it feeling anything but joy.”
His chocolate brown eyes finally meet mine, and I give him a smile.
“What do you say, let’s go build a future. No more fear, no more anger. Just you, me, and our boy.”
As if on cue, I feel a kick. They’ve been so subtle, but that one wasn’t.
I stand as quickly as possible, which isn’t breaking any records, and rest Rhett’s hand on the bump. “Wait for it.”
Tapping the bump with my spare hand, I hope to rile him.
I feel the thump even on the hand that’s not near the kick site.
Rhett’s eyes light up. The switch going off in his head of what he is feeling. “Wow.”
He closes his eyes and rubs his hand over my growing belly. “You. Me. And the boy. That’s all that matters. I love you, Aspen. More every day.”
“Ditto, baby daddy.” I smile. “Let’s go get some celebratory lunch. We’ve got a lot to be grateful for.”
His eyes clear of all anger, all fear, and I’m just left with the love pooling in them. I can feel the intensity of it, all with that look. I’m starting to think this life of mine is even better than the dream.