I'll Be There

34 | way down we go

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," Olivia muttered at the plastic stick on the bathroom counter. There were twenty seconds left on the timer and less than a minute until Spencer came looking for her.

"Liv?" His voice carried through the apartment.

"One second!" She called back.

Just before the timer went off, she stopped it. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes to check the results.

One line.

"Shit."

As Spencer's steps got louder, she quickly wrapped the small stick in toilet paper and shoved it to the bottom of the trash bin. Rushing out of the bathroom, she pretended to be tying her hair up in a bun and slammed into his chest. He had been closer than she thought.

"Your breakfast is getting cold," he grabbed onto her arms to steady her in her frazzled state.

"Oh, sorry," she stabilized herself with both hands on his chest, her curls cascading down her back.

"It's okay," he leaned in for a peck. "I just know how you feel about cold eggs."

She felt a small pang of guilt for lying to him. "Sorry, my hair wasn't cooperating today," she pointed at her mane, "still isn't, I guess."

"You look beautiful."

"Thank you," she gave him a soft smile before turning sideways and shuffling past.

At the table, she focused on breakfast, analyzing each cluster of scrambled egg before it ended up in her mouth. Eggs. Deceitful little things. Suddenly, she wasn't hungry anymore.

"We can take a test tomorrow?"

"Huh?" she looked up from her half-eaten plate.

"Tomorrow. You said tomorrow we should be able to take another test."

"Oh, yeah. Tomorrow." She tapped her fork on the edge of her plate.

"Hey, you good?" He reached across the table for her hand.

She stared at his fingers, curling gently over hers. The simple gesture triggered her usual spiel. "Yeah. Sorry, I'm just a little anxious about taking another test. It's already April and if it's positive, we're so off from our timing, and if it's nega—"

"Forget the plan. It was just an ideal for us, but life don't always work that way."

Her eyes darted up to his, currently patient and optimistic. But at the sight of the second negative, his face had cracked a little more than it did the first time. His tone remained positive, upbeat even, but she had seen it. That one millisecond was all she needed—to know that she didn't want to see the next progression in this series of facial expressions.

That's why she had lied about when her period was expected and took a test without him. For her sanity, she needed to know before he did. Because maybe then, she'd be a little more prepared to see his face shatter. It was a preventive measure. For him. Simple as that.

"No, you're right," she agreed with false conviction. "Infertility isn't even a thing until like after a year of trying."

"Hey, don't go there."

"I think I'm full," she pushed her plate towards the center of the table.

Spencer stared at his own food while Olivia's chair dragged against the floorboards. Her footsteps came around the table and her hand slid across his cheek, pulling his face up towards hers. He didn't react as she kissed him softly. Then she left for their bedroom.

Two months. Two months that were already feeling like six. Given their past, it was hard not to fast track to the worst case scenario. And it pained her to see that his mind was moving faster than hers even though he tried to play it off.