Chapter 57 Houston, Texas—Remy #2
Remy had intellectually braced himself for this reality, yet hearing the verdict still sent a cold spike of fear through him. He nodded once. “I want to freeze my sperm.”
“We recommend banking three to five samples,” the doctor explained gently. “You’ll need to return to the reproductive endocrinology department every couple of days until the morning of your surgery to leave a sample.”
“But that’s only five samples,” Remy pressed, the fear tightening in his chest.
“Since your sperm count is normal, it’s enough. The lab technicians will divide each sample into three equal parts. Each third will produce five to ten straws or vials. That means you could produce from five to twenty straws per ejaculation. We only need one straw to fertilize an egg.”
Dr. Foxx paused for a minute, the silence in the conference room amplifying the weight of her words.
“We recommend you try for a year to get pregnant. If Miss Marshall isn’t pregnant by then, you can consider artificial insemination or IVF.
With your numbers, there’s a strong possibility that you’ll conceive on your own and won’t need any of the stored sperm samples. ”
She extended a packet of papers toward Remy. “These are instructions for collecting your samples.”
Remy took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, the sound almost lost in the quiet room.
This abstract hope was suddenly real. The weight of the future settled in his chest, a mix of desire and paralyzing fear.
He squeezed Skye’s hand, his grip desperate, and she squeezed back instantly, her smile shaky yet resolute, a silent promise of support.
Dr. Kawaja checked his notes, the soft rustle of paper in stark contrast to the emotional stillness.
“We’ll give you instructions for the day before and the day of the surgery.
It’s comprehensive—it covers diet restrictions, necessary medications, antiseptic showering protocols, the precise time to stop eating, and exactly where to go for the procedure.
If questions arise, call the office immediately. ”
“Will you email them?” Remy asked, his voice tighter than he intended. “We’re staying at the St. Regis for now, but we might move to an Airbnb. Digital copies would be best, but I could also pick up a physical packet.”
“I can arrange that,” the doctor replied. “I’ll have our office email as soon as the paperwork is ready. Do you have any further questions for me?”
Remy shook his head, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
“Dr. Mallory, anything from your end?”
“No, you’ve been thorough, and I appreciate you fitting us into your schedule,” Charlotte said. “It was a relief when you agreed to see Remy on such short notice.”
“The moment you and Dr. Fraser called, I agreed immediately. His endowment has been a beacon of hope, fueling research in breast and prostate cancer. And Charlotte, I promised you long ago—if you ever needed me, I’d be here.”
Remy’s gaze pinned Charlotte. “How did I not know Elliott was involved? I thought it was your connection that got me in so fast.”
“My personal connection to Dr. Kawaja secured your initial appointment, but Elliott’s endowment smoothed the patient evaluation process without a single hiccup.”
“Dr. Mallory is the definition of professional discretion. She saved my life—literally—when I took a bullet during a robbery while vacationing in Virginia. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but miraculously, in the right place to receive such unparalleled care.”
“She is, without question, the very best at what she does. I’m just profoundly grateful she could step in and help you.
” Remy knew the agonizing wait to get into MD Anderson could stretch from days into a month or longer, a brutal limbo dictated by diagnosis severity and clinic availability.
He felt a wave of appreciation for the intervention orchestrated by both Elliott and Charlotte.
“I hope I didn’t push aside anyone who needed your attention more urgently than me. ”
Dr. Kawaja offered a reassuring smile. “You didn’t. I made room for you.”
“I appreciate that more than words can say.” Remy rose smoothly to his feet, a silent question in his eyes. “Why don’t we slip out of here and not monopolize any more of your time?” He shook hands firmly with the doctors. “Thank you, both.”
Remy, a protective hand on Skye’s elbow, escorted her into the quiet hallway. Charlotte remained behind, deep in a private conversation with Dr. Foxx. Remy doubted the discussion was about him, but trusted that if it were, she would share the details.
Charlotte joined them moments later, her expression calm, and they walked together toward the bank of elevators. “I’m heading back to the hotel to check out and then fly home. David has already notified the pilot. Will you two be okay?”
“Yeah,” Remy said, his voice a low rumble. “Go home. We’ve kept you from your family long enough. Did Braham say anything about the meeting after we stormed out?”
Charlotte massaged the back of her neck, her gaze darting away for a fleeting moment before settling on Remy with a complicated look. “Rick, Tavis, and Clay are looping back to 1927 to uncover the truth of what Skye’s father knew about the Illuminati.”
Remy fought a wave of anger building inside him, his jaw tightening.
He steered both women toward a sitting area, away from the glare of the elevators.
They sank into the plush sofa, and he took the chair opposite them, leaning forward intently, forearms on his thighs.
“Are they bringing Skye’s parents here? And doesn’t Clay understand how dangerous it is for him to step back into that time? ”
“They’ll make that decision once they arrive,” Charlotte whispered. “And Clay’s wearing a disguise, but I’m not sure it even matters. You’ve already gone to 1928 and returned with Skye. You’re not risking that jump again.”
Skye pressed a trembling hand to her throat, her eyes widening. “Am I going to disappear?” Her face turned stark white as pure panic flared in her eyes.
Charlotte wrapped a protective arm around Skye’s shoulders. “No! You won’t vanish. You’re anchored here, and unless you use a time-traveling brooch, you’re not going anywhere.”
Remy raked his fingers through his hair, gripping the strands as he forced himself to take deep breaths. The mounting stress had already sparked a headache behind his eyes, and now his head felt like it was going to explode.
“I should’ve stayed in that meeting,” he ground out, “and fought harder, screamed louder, for Skye’s safety.”
“You and Skye are fated,” Charlotte said, her tone firm. “Soulmates. Not even time itself can alter that.”
“The brooches can rip us apart for decades, Charlotte. Years of separation.”
“Remy.” Charlotte’s tone snapped, a warning glint in her eyes. “I know exactly where that line of thinking is taking you, and you need to stop. Right now. Braham’s situation and mine were entirely different. They don’t apply to you.”
Skye’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “If we get separated, if fate forces us apart, nothing will ever change the way I feel about you, Remy. And I know deep in my heart you’ll come for me.”
Remy reached across the small space between them, his fingers intertwining with hers. “We belong together, we’re meant to be together, and I swear nothing in this world, or any other time, will change that.”