some deep breaths. I feel like I could do with the oxygen. “I’m going to help you with this. I told you I would. I just wanna make it as easy for you as possible. I mean, no man wants to be jerking off while everyone walking past the room can hear him.”
We arrived at the clinic at 7:00 a.m. this morning for our egg collection and had to wait hours to be called. There are ten other couples here today doing the same thing, which is apparently a lot. I’m kinda pleased they’re busy today; it means the collection room is busy, and as a result, we were asked if Winter wanted to create his specimen in the private room we’ve been assigned. I just love the way the nurse said “create your specimen.” Winter didn’t react, but I acted like a fucking idiot and giggled. Just once, but it was embarrassing. I swear it’s a combination of the drugs and my nerves causing me to act so weirdly. Since we were shown to our room, I’ve been unable to relax. I mean, they left a Do Not Disturb sign on the door. Hello, is that not announcing to the world what’s going on in here? I feel for Winter. This has to be awkward for him, and I just want to make it as unawkward as I can; hence I’ve turned the TV up in preparation for what we’re about to do.
“Don’t worry about me,” he says. “I don’t give a fuck if the whole of Melbourne hears me jerk off.” He glances at the television. “And the last thing I need is to do it to an Everybody Loves Raymond fucking soundtrack.”
“You’re just saying that to calm me down.” I cock my head. “I mean, isn’t this weird for you? It’s fucking weird for me.”
He comes to me and takes hold of my waist. Pulling me close, he says, “It’s a weird way to conceive a child, that’s for damn sure, but everyone in this place is here chasing the same goal. I feel no shame to pick up that cup, go in that bathroom, and do what I need to do to make our baby. Just like you shouldn’t feel any weirdness about what you’re going to do.”
I grip his biceps, not worrying whether I’m hurting him. He came home bruised and beaten two nights ago, and it all looks sore to me, but nothing slows Winter down. I mean, the man is still recovering from his knife wound and getting on with what he has to do; some bruises don’t worry him. “How do you always know the exact right thing to say to me when I’m a mess?”
He brushes his lips over mine. “Sixteen years of knowing you will do it.”
“Okay, we need to do this. We’re running out of time.”
Winter grabs the cup and turns the TV volume back down. “You rest. I can do this on my own.”
“I don’t want you to have to.”
“Birdie,” he starts, and I know from his tone what he’s going to say. He’s going to try to boss me into lying on the bed, but that’s the last thing I’m about to do.
“No,” I cut him off. “It’s my turn to boss you into something.” Grabbing his hips, I try to spin him around while saying, “Turn this ass around and go into the bathroom, and let me help you.”
His lips pull up in amusement. “You should try to order me around more often. It’s getting me hard.”
“Good. That’s our mission.” I lift my chin towards the bathroom. “Go.”
I follow him into the bathroom and close the door behind us. At the exact moment the door clicks shut, a cramp hits me, and I reach out and grip Winter’s forearm, squeezing it as the pain shoots through me.
Panting with the cramps, I close my eyes and wait it out. I already feel atrocious thanks to my swollen ovaries that are fighting for space inside me. I’ve ballooned so much that my jeans don’t fit me. I had to buy stretchy pants to fit my huge belly.
“Fuck,” Winter says, trying to get me to sit on the toilet.
I shake my head and open my eyes as the cramp eases. “I’m good.”
His eyes hold the same frustration that his voice does when he says, “You’re in pain. Don’t tell me you’re good.”
I take hold of his face, my eyes pleading with him to understand that I really want to