Page 13 of The Forever Game

I glance at my watch. “I’ve still got three hours before my shift ends.”

“No, you don’t. Family always comes first. I’ll clear it with Sarge.” He tips his head, quietly ordering me back into the squad car.

I do as I’m told, and forty minutes later, I’m pulling into my parking spot behind Ponderosa.

Walking into the mudroom, I pause to take off my shoes, wondering what that funky smell is in the kitchen. With a wrinkled nose, I step in to find Asher and the chef who covers Rachel’s shift three nights a week hovering near the stove.

“What happened in here?” I ask.

“Burnt cream,” the chef mutters, shaking his head. “Such a waste. Ray needs to fire that new assistant. She knows it. I know it.” He bulges his eyes and I wince, then cast my gaze to Asher.

“Where is she?”

He gives me a sad smile. “I convinced her to go take a shower.”

“Was she wrecked?”

Asher nods. “Yeah, man.”

I close my eyes, taking in a deep breath before thanking the chef for coming in early and Asher for helping us out.

“Anytime.” He waves me off. “Go take care of your woman.”

I rush up to the top floor. Since everyone moved out, we’ve turned this level into our own space. Baxter converted the end room into a living area for us, and we have our master bedroom plus a couple spares. One was supposed to be a nursery. We had grand plans of having two kids close together. Rachel was excited to have them sharing a room, then turning the other one into a playroom for them.

But that never happened. For the first year, we were okay. I was at the police academy anyway, and we figured the timing wasn’t quite right. Then I had to get through being a rookie, but Rachel wanted to start trying again anyway, so we did.

And we haven’t stopped.

It’s been over two years of maximum effort and zero results.

I find Ray sitting on the toilet lid, wrapped in a towel and crying. Her bare shoulders shake, her wet hair sticking to her back as she weeps into her hands.

I crouch in front of her, resting my hands lightly on her knees. She knows it’s me so doesn’t bother looking up. Instead, she sniffles into her palms and hiccups out the words. “I got my period this morning, and then Sadie burned the cream, and then… Caroline called.”

“I’m sorry, baby.”

“She’s…”

“I know.”

Looking at me with her big green eyes, I feel like my heart is breaking all over again. It does this every month and somehow repairs itself just in time to crack in new places.

“Why isn’t this working for us?” she squeaks. “Caroline doesn’t even want to be pregnant, and I’m desperate for a baby. How is that fair?”

I rest my hand on her head, lightly kissing the tears off her cheeks. “I know it sucks. And I’m sorry the IVF hasn’t worked.” Going through that was an expensive, harrowing experience and not one we want to repeat in a hurry. Rachel found it physically and emotionally draining. It was a mental struggle for me too, and the only time we’ve ever yelled at each other was when we were in the middle of that shitstorm. Listening to Rachel’s heartbroken sobs when she locked herself away in the bathroom nearly killed me.

We got through it, and were probably stronger afterward, but I never want to go through that again. Raising my voice at my woman that way? It’s not me. I don’t want to be that guy.

The doctor did say we could try IVF again in the future, but I just can’t bring myself to suggest it.

My heart sinks.

Rachel shakes her head, her chest heaving as she obviously tries to rein in her tears. “We can never say we didn’t try. I just…” Her expression crumples. “When we got married, I had this picture in my mind, you know? You, me, a few kids. Teaching them how to bake and catch a ball. Taking them to hockey games so they can watch their Uncle Ethan and Uncle Casey play. You showing them how to skate.” She starts to cry again.

“I want that too.” I touch her hair, my voice hitching at her anguished tears.

This is killing me.

---