Page 47 of Enemies, Lovers & A Valentine's Baby

“Last month when I went to the hospital for my checkup, Dr. Vincent suggested I run some fertility tests, you know, because of the age thing.” I pause, forcing myself to take deep, calming breaths. Even though my chest feels like an elephant is standing on it, I’m determined to hold it together. “You know I’ve alwayswanted a big family, right?” I whisper, my eyes staring into her still confused ones as she nods her head.

“Of course I know that. You’ve wanted that since we were little girls. I don’t—

what’s—” she shakes her head and takes my hands into hers. “What are you trying to say, Lila?”

“The test results showed that I basically have no ovarian reserve. The doctor is shocked that I’m not yet showing signs of menopause, because my body is essentially saying that’s what’s happening.”

I take a deep breath as I prepare to say the words out loud for the first time.

“I will never be able to have children, Sue. I’m infertile.”

My voice hitches on the last two words, my breath trying to escape past my lips in labored pants. I clutch at my constricted chest, struggling to take in air. I don’t even realize that I’m crying, until the salty taste of my tears fills my mouth. My heart feels like it’s being torn apart all over again.

A guttural groan slips past my lips, the sound vaguely reminding me of a dying animal in extreme pain.

That’s a perfect description of how I feel.

Saying the words to someone else finally makes it real. Before, I could still pretend that it was just a nightmare. But now, there’s no running from the truth anymore.

This is my reality.

I can barely make out Sue’s face through my blurred vision. All I know is that she seems frozen in place; the hands that are holding mine are now deathly cold. I wipe off the tears, her pale face slowly coming back into focus.

Tears are streaming down her face, and her mouth opens and closes, trying to find words that won’t come out. “Oh my God. Oh my God, Lila. Come here,” she whispers, pulling me into her arms.

She holds me tightly, her body trembling while we both cry. The sobs rack through my body; like waves crashing against a shore they roll through me. I claw at the fabric of her dress, letting go of all the pain and suffering I’ve been holding in since I got the news.

“I’m so sorry, Lila. I am so sorry,” Sue sobs, her grip around me getting even tighter. She rocks us both back and forth, her fingers brushing through the strands of my hair as I continue crying my heart out. “It’s going to be okay, baby. Everything is going to be okay. I’m here,” she continues to whisper, rubbing soothing circles on my back.

I’m not sure how long we stay that way. It could be minutes, or it could be hours.

“Everything is going to be okay.” She says, and somehow, I believe her.

Maybe because for the first time since I found out, I finally feel like I’m not alone. I’m glad I told Sue.

I’m glad I no longer have to carry this burden alone.

Chapter 18

Facing the past

Lila

I smooth out the sleeves of my dress for the fourth time. I’ve been on edge since I woke up, knowing that today was the day that I would be seeing Cole Matthews.

I’ve been trying very hard to act like I don’t care about this meeting, but when I changed my outfit for the third time, I realized just how much of an effect he had on me.

So here I am, still fidgeting with my perfectly straight dress, still not completely satisfied with the reflection staring back at me in the mirror. It will have to do for now though, because I’m running out of time.

I brush my wavy hair to a glossy shine, flipping it slightly off center and fluffing it up for volume. My face is mostly bare, except for a little bit of concealer, mascara, and some light pinklip tint which I also dabbed onto my pale cheeks. I wanted to look effortless. Last thing I want is for him to think that I tried to look good for him. I could care less what he thinks about me.

Who am I kidding? The truth is that I do care. Only because I want him to see just how well I’m doing. I need him to know that he had no effect on my life.

He saw me crack once under the weight of his words, but now, he’s going to see me strong and thriving in my element—the very same one he didn’t think I was good at.

Maybe after all these years I should’ve let it go. And I would have, if he had simply apologized. Just once. It may not have undone all of the damage he did to me, but maybe I wouldn’t have spent so much time dwelling on it. Maybe I wouldn’t feel like emptying the contents of my stomach now, just at the thought of seeing him.

I inhale slowly, willing myself to remember why I’m doing this in the first place.

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