Page 71 of First Comes Forever

“Mr. Montgomery, Amani has been my patient for over half a year now. We discovered in past attempts at IUI that her egg viability is low. I want to extract at least twenty eggs, maybe more, in hopes that we end up with four or five viable embryos. I’m going to be honest. Our chances are still relatively low.”

“We can keep trying as long as necessary. My bank account can handle it. Whatever she needs, we’ll do.” Adam gives me a small half-smile.

“It’s not finances I’m most concerned about. Amani is reaching the tail end of her ability to produce viable eggs. We’ll see what we’re working with, but I think donor eggs would give you guys a much better chance.”

A page comes through Dr. Michel’s radio, and he quickly silences it. But it beeps again. Pressing the red button, he says in a hurry, “I’m with a patient.”

“It’s an emergency, Dr. Michel. We only need a moment,” a woman’s voice through the walkie-talkie says.

“Sorry. My nurse,” he explains. “Why don’t I give you two a moment to discuss and I’ll be right back.”

As soon as the door is closed, Adam clasps his hands around his head. “They were going to put twenty babies in there, hoping one would stick? That’s madness. What if you got lucky and carried like half of them to term?”

“Eggs, Adam. Not embryos.”

“The difference?”

I hang my head, rubbing my bare feet together, focusing on my big toe with the chipped purple polish. “I have the same chances as a forty-year-old woman for conception. The doctor thinks it’s POI. He wants to collect that many eggs because he knows most of them won’t work. You’re spending a lot of money on a very slim chance. I’m sorry. I should’ve told you before.”

“Hey,” Adam says. “Come on now, I don’t care about that. I’ll pay for fifty rounds of IVF if I need to.”

I peer at him, twisting my lips. “Okay, seriously, how rich are you?”

He shrugs, not answering my question. “What about the donor egg thing being a better chance for you? What does that mean?”

With my head still ducked, I look up, meeting his eyes. “It means the baby would most definitely not get my freckles.”

“Ah.” He nods in understanding. We’re quiet for some time, listening to the low hum of the air conditioning and the low, muffled voices of the patient in the room next door. Adam finally breaks the silence and says, “The best stories are the long shots. The ones where there’s barely a slight chance and yet by some miracle it always works out.”

“You think I’m in one of those stories?” I ask.

“I don’t know. I feel like I am,” he says. “Never in my life did I think I’d be with a woman again in an exam room like this, but here we are. You apparently have a magic touch.”

“Well, let’s hope my uterus is magic, too.”

He chuckles, then his face grows serious. “Baby or not, promise me you’ll take those classes.”

“Huh?”

Adam grabs both of my hands, wedging himself between my knees, causing my robe to shift. “The design classes. Promise me that the whole thing about you trying to get unstuck doesn’t live and die with having a baby. Amani, you deserve to have a life that makes you happy.”

“Summer guy, you have all the right words, you know that?”

“Part of my job description. I am epic at pep talks. My material is mostly for auditions, but I can tweak a few lines to make them fit anything.” Adam winks at me.

“Cute,” I reply, my voice laced with affection as I scrunch my nose at him.

Dr. Michel knocks on the door again before reentering and taking a seat back on his stool. “I’m sorry about that. So, Ms. Rhodes, please make sure you’re continuing with prenatal vitamins, and I put in that prescription for your new medication. Two pills a day, one morning, one evening, until they are gone, and then I’ll see you back here in about two weeks.”

“Perfect. I’m heading home next week for my best friend’s son’s fifth birthday party. I’ll be back in plenty of time.”

Dr. Michel glances at Adam with an awkward smile. “And we’re feeling more comfortable with the extraction goals?”

Adam nods. “Amani explained it to me. But actually, I have a question. If we only have one shot at this, how much would it cost to double down? Why stop at twenty eggs? Let’s shoot for forty. That’d give us a better chance, right?”

“Adam, stop,” I hiss.

“What? It’s math.”

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