My Home Is With You [LGBT+]

Seven

IT WAS AN IMPULSE.

It was desperation.

I was walking back home when I passed by a small family clinic. One I remember from my childhood vividly that I haven't gone to in over a year. My hand had reached out to the flyer stuck to the wall before I even thought about it, fingers running along the words as my eyes skimmed the paper. It's pastel pink in color with black Times New Roman printed on it. Bold and big.

It was the first time I'd ever seen something like it, and I felt a small smile twitch on my lips.

It was like my breath got stuck in my throat as I reread the flyer, lips mouthing the words but no sound coming out. A promise. A guarantee at extra money.

So, now I'm here.

My hands are clammy and trembling as my leg bounces up and down without my permission while I wait for my name to be called.

I try to calm my racing heart, my hand clutching that same flyer from three days ago tightly.

When I'm finally called up, the nurse raises a brow, but slides the ridiculous packet of papers I need to sign toward me.

Despite my wariness, I don't hesitate to give my consent and with a small nod she leads me down a corridor to a small room.

The doctor is kind. His hair is a light shade of sunny blonde with streaks of grey nearly snowy white that glistens under the fluorescent lights.

"Hello," he greets, wide smile reassuring me, and I can't help but smile back, "Mr. Lopez, my name is Dr. Phillips, why don't you have a seat and relax."

We shake hands before I hop onto the small medical bed and he starts his examination. He is gentle when his aged fingers dig into my stomach, just below my navel and I can't help but shiver when the air conditioner laps at my exposed skin.

"Sexual tendencies?"

"Uhm," my face burns in embarrassment, "Single... I've never... I mean once, but not currently."

He hums, "Sexual orientation?"

"'Gay?" I mutter, my heart racing, why'd I have to make is sound like a question?

I want to mentally slap myself.

But the doctor's smile only turns warmer, kind with his understanding. He's the first person I ever came out to, too afraid to even discuss the topic with my slightly homophobic family.

"So, you plan on settling down?"

"Eventually," I shrug, "I thought this would be a good opportunity and see how it goes."

"And it is, but there are risks," he warns.

I nod, I read the fine print.

"And there's no guarantee that it'll take," he reminds.

"I'm aware... I know that it'll hurt if it doesn't take but right now, I can't get my hopes up for a distant future, I... I actually..." I trail off.

"You did it for the money?"

"Yeah," I breathe, "I'm at a tight spot right now."

"And that's understandable," the doctor says, "Alright, we'll run some blood tests and get some samples, and, in a week, we'll tell you if we can proceed. You can go up front and get an advancement for taking your time in helping us with our research."

I fix my skewed clothing and shake the doctor's hand one last time before doing as told.

I head up to the front desk and a bit nervously wait for the receptionist to look up. When she does, she offers me a smile and hands me a white envelope.

"Thank you," I say.

"See you in a week," she waves.

Taking a deep breath once outside, I walk home, my pocket feeling slightly heavy but my heart light.

Subconsciously, I rub my stomach.

I'm doing the right thing, it's for the money.

Somehow, I still feel selfish.