When We Were Us Read online

  When We Were Us

  Elena Aitken

  Ink Blot Communications

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  Contents

  When We Were Us

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Join Me!

  About the Author

  When We Began

  Also by Elena Aitken

  When We Were Us

  She no longer knows who she is or what she wants.

  He blames himself for her pain.

  Is their love strong enough to survive their greatest hurt?

  Christy has built her entire life around the dream of being a mother and raising a family with the love of her life. After years of infertility, doctors, treatments and heartbreaking disappointments, that dream seems further away than ever.

  Without her dream of motherhood, Christy no longer knows know who she is or what she wants.

  Mark loves his wife unconditionally but can’t bear knowing that he failed to give her the family she so desperately wants.

  At the very time when they should be coming together, their pain is pulling them apart. Is this challenge more than their marriage can withstand? Or will they be able to see past their individual hurts and come together again to have their own second chance at love—together?

  Chapter One

  Christy Thomas took a deep breath and then another.

  It didn’t work. She was still shaking and unable to focus on her reflection in the mirror.

  With both hands planted firmly on the countertop, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried again.

  One. Two. Three.

  The counting technique her holistic healer had taught her was not working. Christy swallowed hard, opened her eyes, and stared at her reflection. Maybe it was the fluorescent lighting of the clinic’s bathroom that made her look so puffy and old.

  Maybe. But not likely. It was her.

  Christy hardly recognized herself lately. When had she become this worn-out version of herself? The hot tears pricked at her eyes and threatened to spill over.

  Again.

  The worst part was she wouldn’t be able to stop them. She’d always been an emotional person, but with all the hormones the doctors had her taking, it was next level, out of control.

  She was exhausted.

  And it wasn’t over.

  “Come on, Christy,” she whispered to the woman in the mirror. “You can do this. Pull it together.”

  She tried her breathing exercises once more and pulled out her compact in a vain effort to cover the red blotches on her cheeks and the dark circles under her eyes. When she’d done the best she could, Christy snapped the compact shut, stood as straight as she could, and pasted what she hoped would pass as a smile on her face.

  “There you are,” her husband Mark said as soon as he saw her. He pushed up from the wall where he’d been leaning, tucked his phone into his back pocket and reached for her hand. “I was beginning to think you may have fallen in.” He gave her a grin that was as equally fake as the one she wore on her own face. “Are you ready for this?”

  How was she supposed to answer that question? Was she ready to lay on the doctor’s examination table, like some sort of specimen, to see whether their latest round of in vitro fertilization and hormone therapies had worked, and they were finally, thankfully, mercifully pregnant?

  Yes. She was ready for that.

  But Mark’s question was two-sided.

  Was she ready to lie on that table, surrounded by doctors, nurses, and students and hear the news that once again the ultrasound revealed the treatments hadn’t worked, and now, not only were they not pregnant, but they were completely out of options? Was she ready for that?

  No.

  Instead of saying exactly what she was thinking, Christy nodded and with cheer she didn’t feel said, “Absolutely. Let’s do this.”

  Mark’s hand felt clammy in hers. Not the warm, strong support that he usually offered her with a simple touch.

  When had that changed?

  As they walked slowly down the hallway to Doctor Duncan’s office, Christy snuck a look at her tall, strong husband. Even as teenagers, he’d always been a foot taller than her. The way he’d wrap his arms around her had always made her feel safe and protected, as if nothing bad could ever happen.

  If only things were still so simple. If only she could be protected from sadness and bad news, with only Mark shielding her. But it wasn’t like that anymore. How could he possibly protect her from the disappointment that radiated off him every time they found out the treatments hadn’t worked? She knew he didn’t mean to make her feel bad; he even tried his best to hide his feelings. After all, it wasn’t her fault. Not entirely. A low sperm count and “tricky” eggs meant they carried equal fault with their infertility. But knowing that and knowing it were two very different things.

  It was her body that continually failed to accept the embryos. It was her body that couldn’t seem to manage to accomplish the very thing it was designed to do.

  “I have a good feeling about it this time.” Mark squeezed her hand. “It’s different this time, isn’t it?”

  Different than the last two times? Only in the sense that instead of the overwhelming feeling of hope and anticipation, Christy—who was generally unwaveringly positive and optimistic to the point of occasionally being annoying to her friends and family—couldn’t for the life of her find anything to smile at these days.

  At least not genuinely.

  “It is, isn’t it?” Mark asked again.

  She nodded and, like the good wife she was, smiled. “It is.” She lied. Because it didn’t feel any different than the last few times they’d been through the process. She didn’t have any tingling in her breasts, no feeling of fullness or the miraculous twinge that signified that there was now a new life growing in her womb. None of the things that women described in her online forums applied to her. But then again, not everyone experienced a moment when they just knew. Maybe she was one of those women?

  With her free hand, she crossed her fingers.

  It couldn’t hurt.

  She wanted to tell Mark how scared she was that she’d let him down again. She wanted to talk about what they could do if they got bad news again. More than anything, she wanted to tell him that she loved him and they’d be okay. No matter what. But somehow she couldn’t find the words.

  “Do you feel pregnant?”

  She opened her mouth to lie again but thankfully, Dr. Duncan’s nurse, Amanda, greeted them. “Dr. and Mrs. Thomas. Welcome back.” She smiled warmly, the way she always did. She’d likely been trained to always be optimistic and hopeful without giving patients a false sense of security that they would be receiving good news. “Let’s take you right back and get you set up.”

  Christy followed Amanda numbly down the small corridor to the exam room
she already knew too well. The last time she’d been there was to have their last three embryos implanted in her uterus. It seemed crazy that they were the last ones. They were the last three hopes she and Mark had for a baby.

  Dr. Duncan had warned against a multiple pregnancy, but those warnings seemed a world away. Not that twins or even triplets would be anything to be warned against, but also because the idea that even one embryo would stick seemed so unlikely to Christy’s battered heart there was no way she could conceivably imagine multiples.

  Amanda gave her a gown to change into and left the room so she could have a moment of privacy with Mark while she got situated for the exam that would change their lives either way.

  Mark bent and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.”

  The tears that had been threatening all day were suddenly gone. Ironically when she would have welcomed them the most. When she would have welcomed any feeling at all, except for the deep sense of emptiness that filled her.

  Mark held tight to his wife’s hand, willing her to be okay. He no longer wished for a successful pregnancy, although of course he wanted that. But more than anything, he just wanted Christy to be okay. More and more over the last few months, during this last round of IVF, he felt her changing, hardening somehow. Pulling away from him.

  At first, he thought it was just the stress of the treatments that was causing the shift in his usual lighthearted wife. But more and more, he worried that it was something bigger.

  “Good afternoon.” Doctor Brian Duncan greeted them in the same welcoming way he always did. It must be a mixed bag to be a fertility doctor, as opposed to having a general practice like his own. Sure, Brian would have all the highs of helping people get pregnant and realize their dreams to start a family. But there would also be the flip side of that coin. Breaking hearts.

  The way he’d done with them. Up until now.

  Mark refused to think anything but positive thoughts. This time was going to be different. It had to be different. Mark himself had seen it in his own practice for years. Especially with the couples he’d referred to Dr. Duncan. In vitro fertilization was becoming more and more successful. The success rates were strong. It was more unusual for it not to work.

  The statistics were in their favor.

  It had to work.

  Especially considering this last round had eaten up the last bit of their savings. IVF was expensive, and insurance wasn’t much help. Mark didn’t want to tell Christy that he’d had to cash in a retirement fund he’d set up as well as take out a line of credit in order to make the final payment for this treatment. She thought they’d been able to use their savings. Mark hated keeping things like that from her and it was the only time he’d ever flat out lied to her in their relationship, but it was only to protect her.

  She had enough going on with the hormone treatments and the emotional madness that cycled through her on a daily basis. He couldn’t worry her about the financial side of things.

  Besides, it would pay off when they held their very own baby in their arms. It would more than pay off. And there was no way she could be mad at him then.

  “How are you both doing today?” Dr. Duncan looked at them each in turn, but his smile faded a little as his gaze landed on Christy. “How are you feeling, Christy? Has everything been okay this round?”

  She nodded and that same smile that Mark had seen a little too often lately—the one that didn’t quite reach her eyes and create the cute little crinkle in the corners that he loved so much—slid across her face. “I’m a little tired, Doctor. But otherwise, I’m just fine.”

  The doctor patted her hand, but he still looked concerned. “Well, it’s normal for you to be tired. After all, your body is working very hard.”

  Christy’s smile dropped away. Mark knew what she was thinking. That her body wasn’t working hard. Because if it were, they’d already be pregnant. He knew she blamed herself for their infertility. More than anything, he wanted to take that away from her. As a medical doctor himself, he knew that wasn’t true. But deep down, didn’t he blame her? Just a little bit?

  Mark shook the thought away. He couldn’t let himself think that way. Besides, this was the time it was going to work. He knew it.

  “Well, why don’t we take a look at what’s going on in there, shall we?”

  It was Mark who answered with a simple nod of his head.

  Dr. Duncan and his nurse Amanda kept up an easy line of conversation and chatter that Mark knew was designed to put them at ease, but he wasn’t listening. He was focused on his wife’s face. She’d been crying for the littlest reasons for months. Like toast that was slightly browner than she would have preferred, or just that morning the fact that there were no seeds in the raspberry jam. But now, lying on the exam table waiting for the news that they were going to be parents—or not, he had to remind himself—she was straight-faced, with no glimmer of emotion or…anything really.

  He squeezed Christy’s hand and she met his gaze.

  I love you. He mouthed the words but she didn’t respond. Instead, she squeezed her eyes shut as Dr. Duncan placed the ultrasound wand on her belly.

  “It’s going to be a little cool,” he said despite the fact they all knew he heated the ultrasound gel, but no one said anything.

  She’d known going in what the results would be.

  No baby.

  Not even one.

  She wasn’t pregnant.

  Again.

  Leaving the clinic felt final this time. They wouldn’t be back. There were no more embryos and no more money. That was it.

  Her final failure to be a mother.

  Christy knew Mark felt it too, the sense of finality when the glass door swung gently shut behind them in a soft whoosh that felt incongruous with how she was feeling. Thankfully, after Doctor Duncan finished his exam, she was able to get dressed and they could leave. After all, there was nothing more he could say.

  And then finally, mercifully they were back in the car, driving away from the clinic and the doctor who, despite his best efforts, couldn’t give them what they so desperately wanted.

  “We can go…” Mark let the sentence fall away unfinished. “Christy? Are you…are we…”

  Numb, she tucked her hands between her legs to keep him from reaching for them. She couldn’t stand the idea of being touched. Of being loved by him when she’d just failed so completely to give him what he wanted most. Not right then.

  “I love you.”

  She forced a small smile. “I know. I love you too.”

  That was the hardest part. Their love for each other. It just didn’t seem fair. They loved each other so much and they’d done everything right. They’d been safe in high school and all through college, using protection so they wouldn’t start a family until they were ready and able to give their child everything he or she deserved. And then it was time. After they were married and settled back into their home town of Timber Creek, with a house of their own that had spare bedrooms to fill, it was finally time to start the family they’d both dreamed about since they were high school sweethearts and barely more than children themselves.

  But it hadn’t happened.

  And now all they had was that love that had pulled them along all these years. Would it be enough?

  She didn’t want to cry. She wanted to stay numb so she couldn’t feel the overwhelming sense of loss inside her, knowing she’d never be a mother. She swallowed hard to keep the tears down. She wouldn’t cry. She couldn’t.

  “Christy.” Mark’s voice was soft, almost as if he knew if he spoke too loudly she would crack and break. “There are other things we can—”

  “Can we just not talk about this right now?” She kept her eyes fixed to the road in front of them and the thick pine forest that lined the highway. She unrolled the window and inhaled the pine-filled air. It was a smell that never failed to ground her. “Let’s just not talk about it for a few days, okay?” She looked at him then and could see the confus
ion on his face. Up until a few hours ago, it had been Christy who wanted to talk about other options, and Mark who’d wanted to wait. He was so sure the IVF would work that he didn’t want to entertain any other ideas. Now the roles had flipped. Maybe it didn’t make sense to him, but it did to her. She needed a break. Even for a few days of not having this dominate her every waking moment.

  She’d tried to use the Timber Creek High School reunion party as a distraction, but that had been over for months. Besides, even when she filled her days with business to distract her, it was never enough.

  It was always there. Right under the surface.

  “I just need a few days, Mark. Please.”

  “Okay.” He nodded and turned his attention back to the road but Christy could see the hurt lined on his face. It wasn’t just her who this experience had taken a toll on. Mark was hurting just as deeply as she was. It wasn’t just her who’d wanted parenthood.

  She knew that. Of course she did. But knowing it and doing something about it were two very different things. And even though it made her sick inside, she just couldn’t bring herself to reach out to him. With every minute that passed, she hated herself a little bit more for it.

  Chapter Two

  Two days later, Cam Riley, loaded down with an oversized bouquet of flowers, a bag of freshly baked cookies, and a bottle of wine knocked on Christy’s front door twice before walking into the house. As the only other part of the foursome who made up the circle of best friends, who actually lived in Timber Creek, Cam had been dispatched to Christy’s house to check on her, provide hugs, and pig out on cookies and wine with their friend in an attempt to let her know that she wasn’t alone.