Rutland
The sunâs shining bright on the town center as Sasha and I wander through, arms linked, bags full of our latest shopping spree. The sound of laughter and chatter surrounds us, lifting my spirits. We move through the crowd, stopping now and then to peek at shop windows or admire a display that catches our eye.
Our happiness is just so tangible.
âI canât seem to shake off these last thirty-seven pounds,â Sasha says, sounding down.
âYouâve just had a baby. Go easy on yourself,â I tell her, smiling.
âBut Aisling, I need to fit into my old clothes again,â she insists.
âI get it, but these things take time. Donât rush,â I advise her, chuckling lightly to keep things light.
âItâs been weeks already, Aisling,â she says, a touch of frustration in her voice. I can feel her stress, but I refuse to let it dampen my mood.
âYou look great to me,â I reassure her.
âI feel fat. I donât even recognize myself anymore,â she admits, her eyes showing her distress.
I canât stand to see her so upset, so I make a goofy face. âWho are you then?â I joke, pretending to be shocked.
Sashaâs eyes go wide, and she starts to laugh. âYouâre ridiculous,â she says, shaking her head at me.
âYou look fine to me,â I say, and she does.
âI donât agree. Having kids changes everything,â she sighs, looking off into the distance.
âWhat about breastfeeding? Iâve heard that helps with weight loss. Youâre doing great at it,â I say, trying to lift her spirits.
âItâs not working for me,â she replies, disappointment in her voice. âIâve even thought about weaning him next month.â
Iâm shocked. âYou canât do that. He needs you.â
âIâm not saying I will, but Iâm thinking about it. It shows how desperate I am to lose this weight,â she says.
âYour body will adjust in time. Just focus on eating healthily and staying active,â I tell her.
âItâs hard to find time for exercise, and I have to watch my diet for breastfeeding,â she says, sounding defeated.
âYour baby comes first, Sasha. And he wonât be little forever,â I remind her, hoping to comfort her.
âThatâs just not how it works for me,â she says. â
As we walk, I spot this really nice green handbag in a store window. âCheck out that bag,â I say, pointing. âWhat do you think?â
âYeah, it looks great,â she says, sounding a bit more cheerful.
âLetâs go in and take a closer look,â I suggest, excited about another store adventure.
âOkay,â she agrees, and we head into the shop, our conversation taking a backseat as we dive into the joy of shopping together.
As Sasha and I head towards the shop, she lets out this wistful sigh. âI wish you could stay till Saturday. The shopping fair is always filled with such cool stuff.â
âI canât stay that long,â I tell her.
âWhy not? Duke wonât let you?â she teases, arching an eyebrow playfully.
âDukeâs not going to hold off the plane on Thursday just for me. Heâs pretty set on his schedule,â I say, laughing at the thought. âHeâs not one to delay.â
We enter the shop, our faces lit up with excitement, and immediately spot this stunning green handbag. âItâs beautiful,â Sasha says, her eyes sparkling with admiration.
I sling the bag over my shoulder, giving it a little twirl. âWhat do you think?â
âItâs gorgeous,â she says again, clearly loving it.
âDo you like it?â I ask.
âYeah, but maybe in a different color,â she says, looking around. âGreenâs not really my color.â
Then I spot something else. âHey, look over there! They have one in wine color.â
âThatâs perfect,â she says, her face brightening even more.
âHow about you take the wine, and Iâll stick with this green one?â I suggest, already thrilled with our finds.
âThat sounds great,â she agrees, and we both smile.
Sasha and I are nestled in a cozy corner of a quaint restaurant, a small table by the window just for us. Weâre enjoying a delicious lunch, and the atmosphere is just perfect.
âWe really need a Hugs and Mugs cafe in Rutland,â Sasha says, looking out the window.
I nod, totally agreeing. âIâve been thinking the same thing.â
âYou should open more branches, spread them across every state,â she urges.
âIâm planning on it, right after I get back from Rich Oaks. Itâs time to grow,â I tell her, feeling determined about the future of my cafe.
Sasha pauses, her expression turning serious. âI donât like the idea of you going back there, Aisling.â
âWhy not?â I ask, a bit taken aback. âI have to go back.â
âMaybe this whole invitro thing isnât the right path for you,â she suggests gently.
âHow can you be sure of that?â I ask, feeling defensive.
âThis will be your fifth attempt, Aisling. Maybe itâs trying to tell you something,â she says softly, her gaze empathetic.
âWe might just get lucky this time,â I counter, clinging to hope.
âHow can you be certain?â she presses, her tone still gentle.
âPeople go through many rounds before they succeed,â I explain, trying to stay hopeful.
âWhy not just stay here and keep trying naturally with your husband?â she suggests, her eyes encouraging.
âIâve been doing that since September. I extended my stay, took a break, focused on the cafe, and had fun with my husband. But still, nothing,â I admit, my voice firm with the reality of it.
âEveryoneâs journey is different, Aisling. Maybe you just need more time,â she says.
âThereâs no more time for me,â I admit, feeling the truth of my words.
Sashaâs face softens with sympathy. âDonât let them rush you into this.â
I sigh, feeling the weight of her concern. âBut this is the path I chose.â
We sit there, the conversation lingering between us, a mix of hope and reality. But despite it all, I feel a certain resolve in my heart, ready to face whatever comes next.
Sasha looks at me, a hint of hesitation in her eyes. âIâve been thinking⦠maybe Duke is part of the problem too?â
I let out a soft whisper, âSometimes I wish that were true.â Itâs a complex thought, acknowledging the layers of my situation, but Iâm clinging to the positive.
âWhat about his sperm health?â Sasha asks, and for a moment, we both break into laughter.
But then she gets serious. âI mean it, Aisling. Infertility isnât always a womanâs issue.â
âYouâre right,â I say, feeling grateful for her openness to all possibilities.
âIt could be the man, too, you know. That happens one-third of the time,â she adds.
âThatâs true,â I admit.
âSo, have you checked into that?â she asks, her concern evident.
âHeâs fine. He goes to his urologist every quarter. Everythingâs normal â quantity, motility, structure. Theyâre perfect,â I explain, hoping to alleviate her worry.
âOkay,â she says, sounding a bit relieved.
âWeâre creating perfect embryos. They just wonât implant. It seems the issue is with me,â I say.
âWhatâs causing the problem?â Sasha wonders, her brows knitting together in concern.
âI donât know. Iâve tried all sorts of treatments, but nothingâs worked so far. Maybe this break will make a difference,â I say, still holding onto a sliver of hope.
âI believe in you,â Sasha says, her gaze warm and filled with faith.
âWeâve got a vacation planned just before I head back,â I share with Sasha, unable to hide my excitement.
âWhere to?â she asks, curiosity lighting up her face.
âSaint Lucas, on their brand new yacht,â I say, grinning from ear to ear.
âThat sounds amazing. Is it a private yacht?â Sashaâs clearly impressed.
âNo, itâs for commercial use,â I clarify.
âDo you guys have your own yacht?â she asks, her eyebrows lifting in surprise.
âNope,â I laugh. âWe donât.â
âBut why not? Duke could easily afford one for personal use,â she points out, genuinely baffled.
âI think heâs waiting for me, his wife whoâs terrified of deep waters, to get over my fear,â I joke, and we both burst into laughter.
âWhy are you afraid of the deep sea?â she asks, her tone soft yet curious.
âItâs the unknown beneath me. It always makes me nervous,â I confess.
âYouâre watching way too many supernatural shows, Aisling,â she teases, her smile wide.
âI know, I canât seem to stop,â I admit, joining in her laughter.
âSo whatâs the plan for this trip? Youâre going to be on the yacht for a whole week,â Sasha asks, eager to know more.
âWeâll take short trips around, but weâll stay on the coast at night,â I explain.
âBut why schedule your vacation now?â she wonders.
âWhy do you ask?â Iâm a bit puzzled.
âArenât you going to be anxious the whole time, thinking about whatâs next?â she says, concern threading through her words.
âNo way,â I respond, firmly. âIâm going to enjoy every moment of it.â