7: SEVEN

After a week of daily shots, today was finally the day where they would take out an egg. Marisol was nervous as she changed into the procedural gown. Once she had her clothes in her hand, she walked out of the bathroom and Grey took her clothes for once the procedure was done.

"You're shaking," Grey commented.

"I'm scared," she admitted.

"You don't have to do this if you are having doubts."

"No, I want to. I'm just jittery."

He sighed, kissing the top of her head, and she nodded in contentment. Something that small made her feel so much better. He helped her onto the bed and grabbed her hand.

"Do you think you can, you know, climax when they ask you to?"

He chuckled. "Do you think I am unable to?"

"I didn't say that. It's just awkward and the situation isn't exactly conducive to arousal."

"I'll be fine, It's you I'm worried about."

She nodded, but her curiosity piqued again. "What's your type?"

"My type?"

"Yeah, I mean we all have a type of person we are attracted to. What's yours?"

If he were being honest, he'd say you, but he wasn't sure how she would take it. "Ambitious women who are kind."

"So Alpha woman?"

He smiled. She didn't realize how right she was. "Yes."

Her smile faltered. She wouldn't consider herself an Alpha. She was foolish thinking a man like him could ever be attracted to someone like her.

"Marisol? What did I say?" He could tell something bothered her.

"Nothing."

Dr. Meredith came in with a bright smile. She guided Grey out to his own personal room while and hen brought Marisol into the operating room.

Grey didn't like this. This isn't how it was supposed to happen. This wasn't how he was supposed to have children.

He ran a hand over his face, looking at the various pornographic magazines and videos on display for his use. None of them turned him on. He didn't want any of the women on display. He wanted Marisol. He undid his zipper and pulled down his pants. The women in porn wouldn't make him hard. It seemed that only Marisol could.

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He immediately got an idea, but he didn't want to soil Marisol like that. She deserved more than a quick jerk. Still, he had to produce something to fertilize the egg, and he would be damned if he allowed someone else to get his mate pregnant.

He took out his phone and pulled up a beautiful picture of Marisol he had taken at breakfast one day. She was smiling, grinning down at her favorite pancakes like they were the key to all life's secrets.

He groaned, feeling his member spring to life. Thus far he had resisted the urge to masturbate using her photos, but at the moment, his resolve was loosening and he wanted nothing more than to imagine filling her with his seed.

With his hand on his cock and his eyes on her, he came, hard, into the small plastic cup.

After the surgery, he brought Marisol back to her home. She had been quiet the entire time. It confused him. He helped her to bed and gave her a glass of water. When she was still silent, he sat down beside her, gently rubbing her leg. "Marisol? What is it... what is bothering you?"

She sat up, shaking her head. "Why did you choose me?"

"Why do you mean?"

"You said you like Alpha women. I'm nothing like that. I'm not your type. Did you choose me because I was... easy or something? Because you felt bad?"

"No, Marisol. Absolutely not. You are exactly my type, Marisol. You're strong, intelligent, and if I'm being completely honest, you make a better Alpha than me."

She laughed, shaking her head. "Not true."

"Yes, it is. Do you know what you've accomplished given the adversity you had to go through? Do you understand the ambition and strength that requires? Is this what's been bothering you? Why does it matter what I think, anyway?"

"I just...I have such a desire to be everything you need. You're the only person I have to impress."

He smiled and kissed her head. "Do you want to know something embarrassing?"

"About you?"

He nodded and she nodded.

"I had to use a picture of you to get off today."

She blushed, laughing into her hand. "I don't believe you."

He rolled his eyes with a small grin. He stood up, placing her phone in her hand before leaving her house. She sat there, clearly shocked yet entirely turned on. With a prideful grin, she fell back onto her fluffy pillows.

❥

As she and Brad made dinner, her phone rung. Brad handed her phone to her and she answered without looking at the caller ID.

"Marisol, sweetheart?"

"Mom?"

Marisol immediately put down the tomato she was cutting and Brad's interest piqued. Only he knew the circumstances of Marisol's family, and she hardly talked about it.

"Sweetheart, I know you and your father don't get along, I was hoping you'd come for dinner Friday."

Marisol sighed, unsure. "I-I don't know, mom."

"Please, sweetheart?"

She sighed again feeling guilty. She truly missed her mom, but she didn't miss her dad. She didn't understand why her mother insisted on staying with a man who hurt them both. Still, she had an obligation to the person who gave birth to her, and she did miss her bubbly mother. She hadn't been home for months. "A-alright. I'll come."

Marisol spoke with her mother for a little longer but hung up shortly after. Brad and she stayed in silence; he knew it was a hard decision for her.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure you want to go?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. Let's just eat."

That night, as she laid down in bed, Tala rested her head on her stomach. She sighed, unable to sleep. Her family was more than fucked up, they were psychotic. She went to college to get away and became a lawyer to be self-sufficient. She spent her life trying never to see her father again, not after what he put her through. She groaned, rolling over. Friday was only a few days away.

❥

She thought these shots would get better but they still were a pain in the ass, literally. Grey stood her up, putting another bandaid on where she was injected. "That was the last one. Tomorrow is the doctor's appointment for the transfer."

"I know. I just wanted to let you know tonight I'm going to my parents' house for dinner."

"Alright, do you need anything?"

"No, I'll be alright."

"Call me if you need anything."

She wished she could see him walk out of her office, but she couldn't. Instead, Emilia came in and they worked on the final touches of her opening statement. Around 4, she let Emilia go early and left work to go home and change. Brad helped her into a nice wine-colored dress and black pumps. Being candid, she wanted to impress her parents, especially her father who spent her entire life constantly berating her.

"You look beautiful," Brad said. Without her knowing, he took a picture of her by the window and sent it to, who he called, her baby daddy. She put on a jacket and Brad led her out to her Uber. On the drive there, she was a ball of nerves. She hadn't seen her family in months. Maybe this time would be better.

As she got out of the car with Tala, she quickly realized she almost forgot the layout of her parents' house. Tala knew it just as well as before. She led Marisol over the cobblestone and up the farmhouse porch. Marisol knocked and immediately heard the shrill sound of her mother's voice.

"Mari!"

"Ugh, mom, you know I hate that nickname."

"Oh right, you prefer doctor now?"

Marisol rolled her eyes but walked into the home instantly smelling the turkey and cobbler. Her mother helped her take off her jacket and put it on the coatrack and then led her to the table. Marisol's family wasn't big at all; it was just her, mom, and dad. She wished she was closer to her parents because then it wouldn't be so awkward.

As they ate dinner, silence filled the room.

"How's work, Marisol?"

She smiled. "It's work. I did have a very interesting case the other day."

"Oh?" Her mom smiled. "Tell me about it."

"Well, this pharmaceutical company–"

"Enough about her job, Samantha. It's not exactly thrilling now is it?"

Marisol immediately quieted, putting her hands in her lap. She stopped talking and the room was filled, once again, with silence.

"Would you like some wine, sweetheart?"

Bless her mom; she always tried to make Marisol feel better and ease the tension. She was always the diplomat of her father's rude manners. She felt bad often because her mother always wanted her home, but she hated coming here. She didn't know how her mother still dealt with all his bullshit.

"I'm okay," she said smiling. She couldn't risk drinking, not before the embryo would be implanted.

"Alright, sweetie. Well, tell me, anyone new in your life? Maybe a possible husband?"

Before she could answer, her father scoffed. "No one wants to be with a patient, Samantha. No one wants to take care of her."

Again, her heart fell in her stomach. She hated how he spoke about her. She hated how he had the ability to make her feel so...small. So unaccomplished. So pathetic.

"That's not true, sweetheart–"

Both jumped from her dad hitting the table hard with his hand.

"I'll go get dessert."

Marisol could hear her mother get up and walk into the kitchen, and she could hear her father follow her. She sat, alone at the table, listening to her father yelling at her mother. She winced hearing a loud crash and then a harsh slap. She remembered that sound. His hand flew across her face too when she was living at home.

She squeezed her eyes shut to not cry. She wanted to help, but what could she do? The last time she called the police, her mother ended up with a cracked rib, she ended up with a broken nose, and her mother still went back to him. She'd tried over and over to take her mother away. She told her mother that she could afford to have her live at her home, but still, Samantha never came.

It was Stockholm, and Marisol knew her mother needed help, but she couldn't get her help if she wouldn't agree. Like it or not, Marisol knew deep down he'd have to beat her mother hard for her to change her mind.

Still, she couldn't just sit here. She stood up and found her way to the kitchen, hearing the yelling grow between her father and mother. Something crashed beside her head and she winced from the sound. He threw something at her.

"I think it's best if you go, sweetie," her mother said. Marisol could tell she was crying.

"Why don't you come with me, mom? Just for a few days?"

"No, I don't want to."

"Be a good daughter and do as you're told since you can't do anything else right."

She nodded at her dad, calling Tala. She walked quickly out of the house and waited outside, in the rain, for an Uber. When it still didn't arrive after an hour, she called the only person she could. Brad and Emilia were both home, enjoying their days off. She assumed Grey was doing the same, but she wanted him. He always made her feel better. If he didn't answer, she would just walk into the city and find a cab.

But he answered after the first ring.

"Marisol?"

"Grey?" She didn't comprehend how hard she was crying until she heard his voice.

His worry piqued immediately. He closed the file, focusing on her. "What's wrong?"

She couldn't even keep herself together long enough to tell him. All she did was sob through her sentence. "Are you busy?"

Before she even asked, he was out of the house, getting into his car. "No. Marisol, what do you need? Are you okay?"

"Do you mind picking me up?"

"Where are you?"

❥

When she heard the sound of a car come close and a door slamming, she knew it was him.

"Shit, Marisol, have you been standing in the rain?"

He led her back to his car, opening the back for Tala to hop in. He ran to the driver's seat, getting in. He reached in the back to grab his jacket, putting it on her lap. She realized she had forgotten her jacket. He turned on the heat and drove away, hoping the car would heat up. He cursed the fact he was always warm; he could have had the heat on even before picking her up.

"Marisol, what happened?"

She started to cry again, and he pulled over. He unbuckled her before grabbing her arm and helping her onto his lap. He let her cry in his arms, on the side of the road, while she was soaked from head to toe.

When she calmed down, he ran his hands down her hair, cupping her face. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She pulled away from his neck, shaking her head. "I just feel really insecure."

"Did you ever read what I sent you?"

"You texted me?"

"Yes. Get your phone out. Get Siri to read it."

She grabbed her purse hesitantly, unsure why he wanted her to read it so badly. She found her phone and asked him to find her messages. When he handed her phone back to her, she asked Siri to read it.

"You're stunning, Marisol."

As the rain picked up and ran down the windows of his Tesla, she suddenly felt the incurable urge to kiss him, and for once, she didn't hear her father's harsh words in her head. All she could hear was the sound of his beautiful, kind, supportive words. Her fingers gently fell down the curvature of his face, and then ran over his lips.

She leaned forward, leaving a chaste kiss on his lips. He didn't move, he didn't kiss her back, and suddenly all her fears and father's words were drowning her. She pulled away, afraid that she was stupid enough.

He grabbed her again, kissing her passionately, running his hands up her sides, making her feel like she was the most beautiful, able-bodied woman on the planet.