CHAPTER 135: Two Weeks

POV: Selene Castellano

Dr. Okafor’s office was on the fourth floor.

Selene had been there three times now and still looked at the wrong door every time she got off the elevator.

Avalon didn’t say anything about it.

He stood there patiently, waiting for her to find what she was looking for.

Dr. Okafor was running ten minutes late.

They sat in the waiting room.

Avalon was reading something on his phone while Selene looked at the other people in the room.

A woman maybe thirty, alone, scrolling through her phone with the expression of someone waiting for something they’d been waiting for a long time.

A couple, older, the man’s hand on the woman’s knee, both of them quiet.

A younger woman with a book she wasn’t reading.

Selene thought about how many held breaths existed in this one room.

Dr. Okafor called her name.

They went in together.

She went over the results from the last couple of weeks, looking at blood work and hormone levels, stuff that Selene had been slowly getting familiar with, learning new terms each time she came in.

"According to Dr. Okafor, everything is exactly as it should be, and that's not all - it's actually surpassing the baseline expectations."

“What does that mean practically,” Avalon said.

"It's a step in the right direction," Dr. Okafor explained, "but it's up to us to take it from here, if we're willing to do so."

Selene looked at her hands.

“What does moving forward look like,” she said.

Dr. Okafor explained.

It was straightforward in the way that complicated things sometimes were when you broke them into steps small enough to hold.

“Any questions,” Dr. Okafor said when she finished.

"Come on, be real," Selene said, her voice low and honest. "What are our actual chances here?"

Dr. Okafor looked at her.

"Frankly, I think your chances are pretty good," she said. "I've seen people with better odds not make it, and others with worse odds who do just fine. To be honest, I've stopped trying to predict what will happen for each individual. What I do know is that you're in good health, you're well-informed, and you're doing this for the right reasons - and that's the best foundation anyone can have." She took a moment to collect her thoughts before continuing. "That's the most I can offer, and I think it's a solid starting point for you."

Selene nodded.

“Okay,” she said. “ Let’s move forward.”

As they stepped out into the open air, walking towards the car, Avalon turned and said, "You know, I think we're actually better than average."

“Don’t get smug about it,” Selene said.

“I’m not smug.”

“You have the face.”

“I don’t have a face.”

“Avalon.”

“I’m cautiously optimistic,” he said. “ That’s allowed.”

She almost smiled.

They went out to eat at a nice restaurant that was close to the water.

Their anniversary restaurant.

They hadn't made any plans, but somehow they both ended up agreeing on that particular place for dinner. He had suggested it, and she had agreed, without either of them needing to explain why. It was one of those unspoken understandings, where they both knew exactly what the other was thinking.

The same corner table. The same candle.

Different people sitting at it.

“A year and a half,” she said.

“Almost,” he said.

“Since the will.”

“She looked at the table.

“If someone had told me then,” she said.

“Don’t,” he said.

“Why.”

"I don't want to think about who I used to be, so let's not talk about it. Whatever you're going to say, it's going to bring up memories I'd rather forget. I've moved on from that person, and I don't want to be reminded of them."

She looked at him.

She said, "You were someone who couldn't remember my laugh."

"He recalled the memory, but it was as if it was locked away, out of reach. 'I remembered it,' he explained, 'I just couldn't access it - there's a difference, you see.'"

“Is there?”

“Yes,” he said. “ I never forgot you. I just buried you so deep I couldn’t find you.”

She looked at him across the table.

“That’s not better,” she said.

“No,” he agreed. “ But it’s honesty.”

They walked home along the water.

She pulled her coat tighter, it was that cold.

He didn’t offer his jacket.

They just walked.

“I’m scared,” she said.

“I know.”

“Not about the process but hoping.”

“I know,” he said again.

“What if—”

“Don’t,” he said.

“I need to say it.”

“Say it then.”

"What if it all falls apart," she wondered, her voice laced with concern. "What if we put our hearts into this, and it still doesn't work out, and I'm left to mourn the loss of something I desperately wanted, all over again."

He stopped walking.

He turned to face her.

"He said, 'Then we grieve it, together, the way we should have grieved Elena.'"

She looked at him.

“That’s it?” she said.

He looked at me and said, "That's all we can do, really. We try our best, and if it works out, we're thankful. If it doesn't, we deal with the sadness together, as a team." He stopped for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "But there's one thing I can promise you for sure: you're not alone in this. We're all in it together, and that's something to hold onto."

She stood on the pavement beside the water.

“Okay,” she said.