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“What happens now?”
“Now, I’m going to choose to have my ovaries removed. Maybe a complete hysterectomy. Depends on what my doctor thinks is best.”
“When?”
“I don’t know. Next summer, the one after. Maybe sooner. The closer I get to forty, the more nervous I get.”
Jackson says nothing, only nods. The two of us have discussed more than a few times what would happen if I ever took these tests and they didn’t come back in my favor. So, none of this is a surprise to him.
“How did Brad take it?”
“Not good.” I snort. “He thinks I’m being rash and wants me to reconsider. You know, I’ve been nothing but honest with him from the moment we became serious. I told him this could be a possibility. He always said he understood.”
“And now?”
“Now he tells me it’s unfair to make this type of decision and take away his chance of ever having a biological child.”
“There are other options. You can freeze your eggs, and then when you’re ready, you can find a surrogate. He makes decent money, that can be an option.”
I stare at Jackson in awe while he speaks. This is a topic I’ve never discussed with anyone. There was never a point because, until I was diagnosed, everything was just a bunch of what-ifs. So him being knowledgeable about what my options are means he did the research on his own.
“No.” I shake my head. “This ends with me.”
“Rory, you don’t—”
“My great-grandmother, my grandmother, and my mom. Now me. I won’t pass this on.”
Jackson and I sit in silence. He has no clue what to say to me, and honestly, I don’t expect him to. No one prepares you for a conversation of this magnitude. There isn’t a handbook anywhere. So I’m more than ok with his silence.
“Brad’s always known you’ve felt like this?”
“You know he has. The moment we got serious, I told him everything. I also told him I didn’t want children at all. He said that was fine because he didn’t think he wanted them either.” I wait for Jackson to tell me maybe one day I’ll change my mind, but he never does. “Now he tells me we should at least have one. That I should experience pregnancy and childbirth and then have the surgery. I guess now that I’m completely removing the option, he’s suddenly changed his mind about having a family.” I wipe the tears from my cheeks and look back out at the pond. “Even if I did want kids, carrying them would never be an option. He isn’t even understanding of the fact that pregnancy can speed up my expiration date. I don’t want to die and leave a child behind. It’s not fair.”
“Rory, you need to be selfish. You deserve to grow old and live a full life. You deserve the life your mom and grandmothers never got. If you decide you want children later in life, there are other ways. If Brad can’t get on board with that—”
“I won’t change my mind.”
“Then Brad needs to…”
Jackson doesn’t finish his sentence, but then again, he doesn’t have to. I know exactly what has to be done if Brad and I can’t see eye to eye on this. Situations like this can either bring a couple together and strengthen their relationship, or it can break them beyond the point of repair. With the wedding two weeks away, it’s something Brad and I need to figure out.
“You know, no matter what, I’m always going to be here for you.” Jackson reaches out and takes my hand in his. He runs his thumb across my knuckles and the gesture sends a shiver through me. “We’ll get through it.”
Jackson’s eyes hold mine, and the way he’s looking at me is exactly how Brad should have. The words coming out of his mouth are the words I needed to hear Brad say. It’s funny how life sends you the people you need at the times you need them most. When life took my mother from me, it gave me Jackson. He is my soulmate. The bond we share with one another can never be matched. Lovers may come and go, but Jackson will always be my constant.
* * *
After spending mostof the day helping Jackson with a couple of home projects, I ask him to drop me off before dinner. It would have been easy to stay there with him, hiding from real life. But I can’t run from my problems. I unlock the front door and hang my purse up on the hook. Flipping through the mail, I walk down the hallway toward the living room.
“I was starting to worry about you.” Looking up, I see Brad sitting on my couch. “I tried calling, texting. I even checked that locator app, but nothing.”
“My phone died sometime last night.”
“You didn’t think to charge it.”
“I didn’t want to.” I sigh, tossing the mail onto the coffee table.
“Where were you?”
