Fragments

one shot: Friendship for Dummies

Friendship for Dummies: One Shot Competition

We're sitting in the doctor's office, my heart thumping erratically. Connor's hand is intertwined with mine as we're waiting for the results. I feel like I could die from the anticipation. I send Connor an impatient look. He smiles reassuringly and places his hand on my knee.

The door bursts open and my head snaps up expectantly. The nurse walks in, her sensible shoes clacking against the white concrete. She's holding a clipboard and her smile is sympathetic. I don't like where this is going at all. Connor gives my hand a squeeze. Give her a chance to talk, Georgie.

"Mr. and Mrs. Murphy—" the nurse starts.

"Connor and Georgie," I correct. I don't like formalities.

The nurse smiles again. "Georgie, I'm so sorry, but there is no way that you'll be able to have children."

I can feel my throat closing up and the tears welling up in my eyes. My breathing is getting shallower and shallower and my vision is starting to blur. The room start spinning and Connor is pulling me against him, stroking my hair and whispering things in my ear. I can't pay attention to anything but the nurse's words.

There's no way that you'll be able to have children.

That daunting sentence is ringing in my ears. It was just so unreal. I always thought Connor and I would get married, which we could cross off our checklist, and then have three beautiful children.

I'm too spaced out to even notice that the nurse has left to give us our privacy. I let the tears run freely down my cheeks, not even bothering to wipe them away. That wouldn't do any good; they would just come back anyway.

"We can always adopt," Connor suggests quietly.

I shake my head. "It's not the same, Connor."

"I love you, Georgie."

I'm too exhausted to even reply back. I just lean against him and breathe in his delicious and calming scent. Maybe if I just pretend this is all a dream, it'll all go away. Yes, I'm in denial.

Connor gets up and carries me to the car. He buckles me in and drives us to our grey, two-story house. He tucks me into bed and gets in the other side. I stare at the white ceiling, reminiscing about our non-existent baby.

"Georgie, this is unhealthy and you need to stop! You haven't been out of the house in two weeks," Connor tells me.

It's been fourteen days since we've received the news. The first week I was in a zombie-like state, walking aimlessly around the house, lost in my own little world. Connor had to spoon feed me...like a baby. I break out in tears at the thought of that word.

Connor's the sane one of the two of us. He stills goes about his daily routine, except for the first couple of days, where he stayed home and made sure I wasn't going to kill myself or anything. I wasn't going to do something as drastic as that. Julie and Mom have been coming by almost every hour to check up on me, Connor's doing no doubt.

I mumble gibberish and push my way past him, heading to the freezer for more Ben & Jerry's. I pull a spoon out of the drawer and shove it in a tub of chocolate ice cream. Connor snatches the silverware away from me and gives me a disapproving look. "You can't just mope around!" he fumes, throwing it into the sink, a telltale sign that he was angry.

"Why not?" I demand, talking to him for the first time in days. "Connor, I can't ever be a mom. We're not going to be able to have what Brandon and Macy have! I want a baby of my own. I want a little baby girl that has your eyes and my blonde hair. You would take her to daddy-daughter dances and we would have tea parties and play Barbie's—"