Do We Have A Future?

2. November

A month had passed since Becca told Ethan about the baby. Subsequently three weeks had passed since she made the easily difficult decision to terminate the pregnancy. There was just too much at stake . She wasn't ready to prioritize another life before her own. She wasn't ready to take time away from her dreams and definitely wasn't financially ready for motherhood. In the back of her mind Becca knew the moment her OBGYN told her of the complication and low mortality rate that she would not be continuing. That didn't mean she didn't want Ethan to entertain the idea.

Ethan was there for her every step of the way whether she wanted the comfort or not. He held her hair back when she vomited at random moments of the day. He searched store after store for the right chicken broth and bottled water - the only things she could stomach for those two weeks before her appointment. Ethan even took the full week off for them both while the termination pills took effect and approved an additional week for Becca. He even tried to have her see the counselor the OB suggested. But she deadpanned, "I'll be fine. This is what we both wanted. The sooner it's out of me the sooner we can go back to normal."

While he didn't agree with her methodology he appeased her because it was what she was asking of him.

They told absolutely no one. Rebecca spent more time at Ethan's to avoid the concerned gaze and intervention from her roommates. She couldn't even look Sienna in the eye when they stopped to chat at work, ultimately trying to limit their interactions until all of this blew over. At her core, Becca was embarrassed and deeply ashamed. This was never supposed to happen . Dr. Rebecca Lao had a compulsive fear of failure - an asset when work was concerned however detrimental to her mental health.

I couldn't do it. I failed at the one thing women were created to do.

It didn't matter that she knew better, knew this was the right decision. They weren't ready and she was so sick. The pregnancy could have killed her - there was no guarantee that she or the baby would make it to term. Even with those odds it didn't mean her heart wasn't tattered. Her and Ethan spent that whole first week debating and researching, coming up with their own conclusions to her diagnosis. The outcome was the same - it was safer to terminate.

Rebecca spent most of her two weeks off sleeping. Between the undeniable pain of the contractions and the deep sadness she felt there wasn't much else worth keeping her conscious. Ethan tried his best to get her to go about her normal activities. He'd come nudge her awake on his lunch break to make her eat something, anything to keep her body functioning. On good days she would be snuggled on the couch in the dark, Jenner nestled in her lap. Ethan didn't know what to say or do to help. Years of diagnostics and medicine could never prepare him for the challenge of taking care of a childless woman.

They danced around each other never saying much. Ethan stopped pressing small talk after a few weeks - she never really responded.

"What did you do today?" Ethan asked just like he did each of the last 6 days. He came in and she was on the couch wrapped up in the duvet from the second bedroom. Today she had the TV turned on and was watching Dr. Who. He took that as a good sign, Maybe, just maybe she's coming out of her funk.

She barely shrugged.

At least she acknowledged me today.

He made his way across the open plan room and to the back of the couch, leaning over to stroke the wild hair atop her head. His voice was gentle, like if he spoke much louder the room would collapse around them. It was a voice that not a single soul would have imagined came from uptight Ethan Ramsey; "Would you like to go out to eat? I think it would be good to get out of the house for a bit, get some fresh air."

Her voice was weak but stoic, "No."

She's speaking. That's a start. "Could I get you anything?"

"No."

Ethan took a breath, reminding himself to stay calm. "Becca, you need to eat."

Becca hadn't eaten in front of Ethan since the day before he went back to work. During the process he force fed her soup and chicken - bland meals to keep her strength up as her body raged war on itself. As soon as her bleeding became more consistent with that of menstruation she insisted she could take care of herself. Fending for herself insisted on eating a handful of grapes and an occasional bowl of oatmeal. The only sustenance she craved was what had been lost.

She closed her eyes tightly as if wishing him away and whispered, "I'm fine."

She was way off the path from fine.

***

Halfway through Becca's second week off and where she seemed to become more and more distant Ethan grew concerned. He couldn't foresee an improvement anytime soon. Ethan was completely helpless without Becca explaining her needs nor accepting his olive branches. The despondent doctor had no other choice but to speak with his most trusted friend, thus breaking the couple's unspoken and sacred vow to never speak of the incident. He knew he had to do it for the greater good - for her .

The sullen diagnostician gingerly made his way into his mentor's modern office as soon as the clock struck 7AM - the chief's starting time.

"Ethan, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Naveen beamed from behind his large desk. He hadn't seen or spoken to his protégé since he approved the couple's time off. A sly smirk took residence over his older features as he asked, "Ah, how was your week away with Dr. Lao?"

Using his diagnostic talents he took in the state of his adopted son. He noticed the small wrinkles in his navy trousers, how his matching tie hung ever so loosely around his neck, and how his shoes had scuff marks as if he'd spent a majority of his time pacing. Ethan's hair looked less pristine and flatter than normal. His features were pale and distant, the deep purple half moons under his eyes ever present, and carrying a crestfallen expression.

"Sit," Naveen instructed.

As swiftly as he was capable, the older doctor moved to lean against the front of his desk directly in front of where Ethan was slumped. Ethan couldn't bear the burden of their secret any longer, it was tearing both of them apart. He leaned forward to bury his head in his hands. Naveen placed a soothing hand on his closest friend's shoulder, rubbing circles with his thumb. Whatever was going on was more than the boy was able to handle.

They stayed like that for an unaccounted for amount of time. Ethan trying not to fall apart and Naveen doing his best to silently reassure him that the world wasn't ending.

Finally Ethan lifted his head and began to enlighten Naveen. "We - She was - We -" he stuttered, never really finding the right words to describe their situation.

Both of Naveen's calming hands were now on Ethan's shoulders as he affirmed, "It's okay."

The two men's eyes finally locked. Naveen's curious and concerned dark ones searched Ethan's bloodshot and broken orbs for answers.

"A medicinal termination," Ethan finally choked out.

Once the words hit his ears Naveen leaned over and hugged his young friend. This situation has seemed to have exponentially aged his features since their last encounter, and yet in this moment he was nothing other than a lost boy.

"It was ectopic," Ethan continued, trying to regulate his breathing. "She's a wreck. She needs time off...to see a therapist." Ethan pulled away to gauge his mentor's reaction. "Can you give her all the time she needs?" he asked with the pleading eyes of a broken child.

"I can, of course I can," Naveen reassured softly as a friend. As Chief he added, "But the request must come from Rebecca herself. I can't do anything without her consent."

Forgetting himself and their position, and how there are some rules even himself cannot rewrite, Ethan slowly brought himself back to workplace reality.

"Of course," he mustered, running a hand through his misplaced locks.

With all of his manifested concern, the old man finally asked, "Are you okay?"

It was a simple sentiment that carried a lot of weight. No, I'm not. I won't be okay until she's back to normal.

"I'll be fine," he dismissed. "It's her we need to worry about."