Page 99 of The Story of Us
“I went to see the team doctor afterwards. To get checked out. STIs, you know. But also …” Nate cleared his throat and took a deep breath, told himself that he could do this. He could do hard things.
“Nate …” He looked up and met Owen’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. And there it was. But instead of pity in his brother’s eyes, Nate recognised it for what it truly was. Sorrow.
“I can’t have kids.” Those words had to be pushed out, bitterness lingering on his tongue. His chest tightened so painfully it was like he’d just been pummelled by the biggest guy on the field.
“Fuck.” Teddy’s face was stricken. Nate was sure his was too.
The drone of the road noise filled the car as everyone absorbed what Nate had said.
“Like not at all?” Teddy asked after a few seconds.
“No. I don’t have any swimmers.”
“There are other paths to parenthood like fostering and adoption. Donor sperm via IVF,” Charlie said quietly, cautiously, with no hint of the frustration Nate deserved in his tone.
“It’s okay. I’ve accepted it. It’s just the way some things go. I’ve been so lucky in so many other ways?—”
Raff cut him off, a hardness to his voice that Nate didn’t expect. “There isn’t a fixed amount of luck that people get access to, Nate. That’s not how these things work. And you worked fucking hard for everything you achieved. You still do. You deserve everything you want. Just like everyone else.”
“Were things getting too serious with Eloise?” Owen asked.
“Things have always been too serious with Eloise.” Nate raised his hand when Charlie opened his mouth to speak. “Not in a bad way. Or because of anything she’s done. She’s absolutely magic in every way. I’ve known for a long time that she’s always been it for me, and I agreed to this stupid deal thinking it was the only way I could ever have her. I figured she’d realise there was a big, wide world out there while she was away and find someone better who could offer her everything she wants. But really, I was just being selfish. Because if anyone deserves to have all their dreams come true, it’s Eloise.”
“What she deserves is to know the truth,” Charlie said softly.
Nate nodded. “When we were at the hospital the other day, I overheard you all joking around about your wedding, when you’d have kids, all that sort of stuff.”
Charlie paled. “Fuck.”
The tightness in Nate’s chest eased a little. “You didn’t know.”
“What didn’t he know?” Raff asked.
“Charlie said something silly, just a throwaway line?—”
“No, no. I said it. I’ll take responsibility for it. I made a crack about Nate being such a stud that they’d end up with triplets the first time. I didn’t mean it. I just didn’t … think.” Charlie winced, pushing his sunglasses up onto his forehead. “I do that a lot, don’t I?”
“It’s not just you. Everyone does. Plenty of other people think it’s perfectly fine to talk about people’s lives without considering that it might be something painful for them. The worst bit …” Nate paused, throat bobbing as he tried to swallow the brick of pain that had formed in it. He covered his face with his hands. “The worst bit was hearing Eloise say that she wanted us to be together and to have kids. It’s the one thing I can’t give her.”
Nate felt rather than heard Raff’s deep breath, knowing his brother had found himself in a similar—albeit caused by very different circumstances—position not all that long ago.
“The fuck you can’t. Now might not be the time to bring this up and I know it’s not the same thing, but I’d donate sperm if that was something you were interested in,” Teddy said.
“So would I.” Raff nodded.
“I’d have to talk to Alice, but I don’t think she’d mind,” Owen added.
Nate choked out a laugh.
“But we can talk about it another time, and only if you want to. You don’t have to make those kinds of decisions until you’re ready. We just want you to be happy,” Owen said.
“You gotta remember that there’s no problem the James brothers can’t solve.” Teddy’s grin wasn’t as wide as it usually was, but it was enough to pull a small smile from Nate.
“What’s next?” Charlie asked.
Nate looked out the windscreen, his chest lighter than it had been in years. Sharing would never be easy, but he could already feel the difference. “It’s time for me to start taking up space.”
* * *
