That’s what I’m doing—building up walls to block all of this pain out. It’s the only way I’ll survive.
But I no longer care if I survive.
“NO!” I scream, it’s guttural, and deep, and lets out every emotion I’m feeling.
I know I shouldn’t yell in a doctor’s office, but the shriek was necessary. I’m not thinking. I’m barely existing.
Slowly, I come back down. Liesel is still gripping my hand and gives me a tight smile when I finally look at her. I thought she would give me a smart remark for yelling and crying over not being able to have kids. Many people aren’t able to have kids.
But that’s not what I see. Liesel’s eyes are puffy and red. And there are tears still running down her cheeks.
She looks at me like the news is as much her heartache as it is mine.
When she sees I’ve finally reentered the real world again, she turns to the doctor. “What options does she have?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think there is anything I can do,” the doctor answers.
“Really? Nothing? You don’t have some shots you can give her or surgery or anything to help her?”
She shakes her head softly. “There is just too much damage. I’m sorry.”
“What about surrogacy?” Liesel asks, not giving up.
I squeeze her hand, trying to say thanks to her without using my actual words.
The doctor’s eyes flutter up to mine, and I know she’s going to shatter that dream too. I can have kids. I can adopt. I can find a way to have children if that is what I want, but it won’t be enough to help Enzo.
“I’m sorry,” the doctor says again. And then I see the tears in the doctor’s eyes. “If you need anything else, a support group, information about adoption, anything, please let me know.” She squeezes my shoulder, but I don’t even register the pain. And then she leaves.
“Fuck her,” Liesel says, wiping her eyes.
I turn toward Liesel with wide eyes.
“Fuck her,” she says again. “She’s a doctor. She’s supposed to help people.”
“She did her best; it’s not her fault that I’m too broken to fix.”
Liesel’s head snaps. “Oh no, you don’t get to go feeling sorry for yourself. Hearing that was heartbreaking. You cried. I cried. The doctor cried. You got to feel the pain, but you don’t get to remain broken. Enzo still needs us. The Black company still needs us. Get your shit together.”
I frown. I can’t.
“I can’t save Enzo. And the Black empire deserves a strong leader.”
“Get the fuck up,” Liesel says, done with my moping. Apparently, the five minutes I allowed myself to cry is all I’m allowed.
“Up!” Liesel tugs on my arm, and I s
tand up.
She heads to the door.
“I’m still wearing the paper gown.”
Liesel rolls her eyes and throws clothes at me. “Then get dressed if you don’t want to flash everyone.”
I hurriedly change back into my jeans and T-shirt. And then I follow Liesel out of the office.
We hop into her Maserati, and I stare out the window, reminding my heart to beat and my lungs to breathe every other second so I stay alive. Right now, staying alive is the best I can hope for.