Silver Linings (Collier’s Creek Christmas)

14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Greg

“What about this sage green? It’s supposed to be soothing and create a tranquil vibe,” I suggest, painting a swatch on the kitchen wall. The overhead lights shine on the painted square, giving it an almost luminous glow against the bare white walls.

Cam tilts his head, considering it with an amused smile. “Hmm, I don’t know, babe. Might make our kitchen look like the inside of an avocado.”

I huff a laugh, shaking my head. “Okay, fair point. Maybe not the best choice for whetting the appetite.”

Cam selects a sample pot from those scattered across the floor, this one a yellow. “Now this is more like it! Sunshine on the walls to brighten our mornings.”

He paints the sample next to mine. I grin at his enthusiasm. His eyes are shining with excitement, but he frowns as he turns to me. “Hmm. Not quite the effect I was going for.”

I chuckle at his expression. “Well, it’s definitely cheerful, but maybe it’s a bit too sunshine-y. We’d need to wear sunglasses inside because it’s so bright.”

He laughs and reaches for another sample, dipping the brush into the pot. “How about this one, then? Still yellow but more muted, you know?”

I tilt my head, squinting. “Maybe not so much.”

Cam snorts. “Yeah, that’s… Kinda reminds me of baby poop.”

“Ew, Cam!” I wrinkle my nose and snort a laugh. “Okay, okay. So we agree yellow isn’t the way to go?”

“Absolutely.”

We move on to the next color, a soft dove gray. As Cam paints a neat square on the wall, I find my mind wandering. It’s so easy to picture this room filled with laughter and warmth, our loved ones gathered around the table for holidays and birthdays and just because. A highchair tucked into the corner, tiny hands smearing pureed peas everywhere…

“Earth to Greg.” Cam waves a hand in front of my face, jolting me from my reverie. “Thoughts on the gray?”

I blink, focusing on the paint swatch. It’s nice. Classic. But… “It’s okay but maybe a little cold? I don’t know, I was thinking something warmer. Like a nice beige or taupe.”

Cam gives me a look. “Beige? Taupe? Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”

I roll my eyes, shoving playfully at his shoulder. “I can appreciate a nice neutral. I think neutral on the walls would go nicely with the cabinets and the beachy theme, but we could go for something stronger.”

We try a few more colors, each one more disastrous than the last, until eventually we paint a square of something aptly called seafoam.

“Ooh, I like that!” Cam says. “It’s perfect with the granite and the tiles we chose.” He turns to me and grins. “I love it.”

I nod, already envisioning our bright, welcoming kitchen-to-be.

“I can’t wait to see it when it’s done,” Cam says, still grinning.

I squeeze his hand, happiness bubbling up inside me. “Me too, babe. But you know the hard work is still to come.”

“I don’t know,” he says. “I think painting is kinda fun.”

“We’ll see if you still think that by the time we’re finished. But it’s getting late. How about a hot chocolate before bed and we can get started on the painting tomorrow night after work?”

“Sounds good. I’ll tidy up here while you get started on the chocolate.”

Cam rinses the brushes and screws the caps back on the sample pots while I prepare a hot chocolate on the new cooker. Soon, the rich aroma of cocoa fills the kitchen, replacing the smell of the paint. We settle on the floor, backs against the newly installed cabinets, steaming mugs in hand.

“So, how’s the new Christmas drinks menu coming along at CC’s?” I ask, blowing gently on my chocolate.

Cam’s eyes light up. “Oh my gosh, babe, you won’t believe how popular the Salted Caramel Mocha has been! We can barely keep up with the demand.”

“That’s amazing, Cam. I knew you’d be onto a winner.”

“And that’s not all,” he continues, “Donna’s been experimenting with some gingerbread recipes, and I think she’s finally nailed it. She’s done some muffins, some cookies, and some tiny gingerbread men. They go perfectly with the Gingerbread Maple Latte. You’ve gotta try it tomorrow.”

“Mmm, sounds delicious. You’re going to make so many people’s holidays brighter with those drinks, you know that?”

Cam ducks his head, a pleased flush coloring his cheeks. “I hope so. I just love spreading a little extra cheer this time of year.”

I press a sweet kiss to his temple, marveling at the beautiful soul I get to call my husband. “And that’s just one of the million reasons why I love you.”

“Want to hurry up and finish your drink so we can go to bed. I want to show you another reason you love me so much.”

I’ve never drunk a mug of hot chocolate so fast before.

Greg

The door clicks shut behind me as I step into the silent house, a stark contrast to the laughter and warmth that filled these walls just last night. My footsteps echo on the hardwood, each step heavier than the last as I make my way to the living room.

Sinking onto the couch, my head drops into my hands as the weight of the doctor’s words truly hit me. Low sperm count. Poor motility. Significantly reduced chances of conception. Makes IVF difficult. The clinical terms rattle around my skull, taunting me with their finality.

I should’ve known. Should’ve realized that even this, the most natural thing in the world, would be just another item on the long list of things my body has failed at. First the accident, now this…

A bitter laugh escapes. All the hours of physical therapy, the countless doctor visits, the nights spent gritting my teeth against the pain as I relearned how to walk properly, how to function. And for what? To be told that I can’t even give my husband the one thing we both want most in this world? The sheer unfairness of it all crashes over me, and I curl into myself on the cushions.

Why me? I feel so damn inadequate. How can I tell Cam? How can I look into those hopeful hazel eyes, still alight with dreams of the family we’ve planned, and give him yet another piece of bad news? My chest constricts at the thought as my eyes burn with unshed tears.

I don’t know how long I lie there, lost in thoughts of how much I’ve let Cam down over the years. He’s stood by my side through thick and thin—surely we deserve for something to go right soon?

He’ll be home soon and I can’t let him find me like this—I need to be strong. Because that’s what you do when you love someone. You fight. You endure. And you find a way through.

No matter how much it hurts.

I sit up and swipe my eyes with the back of my hand before reaching for my phone. Maybe talking to someone else first will make telling Cam easier, but saying the words out loud, admitting my failure, makes it all so real. I straighten and scroll through my contacts, finding Madi’s name. My thumb hovers over the call button, hesitating. I take a shaky breath, steeling myself, and press Call. The phone rings once, twice. I pace the living room, waiting for her to answer.

“Pick up, Madi. Please pick up,” I mutter under my breath, needing her to answer before I chicken out and end the call.

Finally, she answers. “Hey, little bro! What’s up?”

The familiar sound of her voice, warm and cheerful, nearly undoes me. I open my mouth, but no words come out, just a strangled sound.

“Greg? What’s wrong?” Madi’s tone shifts instantly, and I can hear her concern.

“Madi, I…” I swallow hard, fighting past the lump in my throat. “I got some results today. From the fertility clinic. It’s not good.”

Silence stretches between us for a moment and when Madi speaks again, her voice is soft and gentle. “Oh, Greg. I’m so sorry.”

A single tear slips down my cheek, and I brush it away angrily. “The doctor, she said… low sperm count. Poor motility. That the chances of us conceiving naturally are…” I suck in a breath. “I can’t be the one to give Cam the family we’re both so desperate for.”

“Greg, listen to me.” Madi’s voice is fierce, determined. “This isn’t the end, okay? Has Cam got his results yet? Anyway, no matter what his results are, you and Cam, you’ll figure this out together. There are other options. “

I nod, even though she can’t see me. “I know. I just…” I blow out a shaky breath. “Why does everything have to be so hard? I feel so useless. What if I can’t—”

“Don’t,” Madi cuts me off. “Don’t go down that road. You are more than your ability to create a child, Greg. So much more. And Cam loves you, no matter what. Like I’ve said before, you’ll both be amazing fathers, no matter how a child comes into your family.”

She sounds so sure, so positive, that it’s impossible not to take her words to heart. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Mads.”

“Well, lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out.” I can hear the smile in her voice, the unwavering support. “I’m here, little brother. Always. Now, tell me exactly what the doctor said.”

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself as I recount the details of the appointment. “She said my sperm count is low, and the motility—that’s the ability for the sperm to swim properly—is poor. That even with IVF, our chances would be…” I swallow hard. “Significantly reduced.”

Madi is quiet for a moment, no doubt absorbing the information. “Okay. But reduced chances aren’t zero chances, right? It sounds like there’s still hope.”

“I guess.” I run a hand through my hair. “I just… I feel like I’m letting Cam down. Like I’m trampling on his dreams of starting a family together.”

“Greg, no.” Madi’s voice is gentle but firm. “You could never let Cam down. Not by being honest with him, by facing this together. His dreams—your shared dreams—they’re not just about having a baby. They’re about building a life, in sickness and in health. Remember?”

God, that brings back memories of our wedding day, the love and conviction in Cam’s eyes as he’d spoken those vows. “You’re right. I know you’re right. I just… I hate feeling like I’m the reason we might not…”

“Stop right there, mister.” Madi’s using her mom voice now, the one that brooks no argument. “You are not the reason for anything. This is not your fault. It’s just… life. And you and Cam, you’re going to face it together, like you always do. Lean on each other. Lean on me. We’ll get through this, Greg. I promise.”

“I don’t know what to say, Madi. Except… thank you. For always being there. For knowing just what to say to pull me out of my own head.”

“Of course.” I can hear the smile in her voice, the love. “Now, go talk to that husband of yours. Be honest. Let him be there for you. And call me anytime, okay? I mean it.”

“I will. I promise.” I take a deep, steadying breath. “I love you, Madi.”

“I love you too, little brother. So much.”

We say our goodbyes and I hang up, feeling lighter than I have since leaving the doctor’s office. I set the phone down on the kitchen counter and take a deep, fortifying breath. Madi’s words echo in my head—be honest, let Cam be there for me. I know she’s right. Keeping this from him is not fair to either of us. We’re a team, a partnership. We face things together.

I walk through the house to our bedroom. How do I tell him? What do I say? I remind myself that Cam loves me, unconditionally. He’s proven that time and again. This… this won’t change that.

In the bedroom, I change into my old, paint-splattered jeans, grab a torn sweatshirt and head back to the kitchen. I’m just tugging on my shirt when my phone rings. Cam’s smiling face fills the screen.

“Hey, babe,” I answer, hoping my voice doesn’t betray my earlier tears.

“Hey yourself,” Cam replies, and just the sound of his voice makes me smile. “I’m leaving work now. Thought I’d grab some takeout on the way home. Thai sound good?”

“Thai sounds perfect.” I smile despite myself. It’s my favorite food and it feels like he’s chosen it just to cheer me up.

“Great! I’ll be home in about twenty. And I hope you’re ready to paint, because I am itching to finally get some color on those walls!”

His enthusiasm is infectious, and I grin. “I’m ready. Just getting everything organized now.”

“Awesome. I’ll see you soon. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

I feel so much better as I hang up and throw myself into prepping for an evening of painting. Painting, creating, building something with my own two hands… it’s always been therapeutic for me. And right now, it’s exactly what I need to quiet my mind and steady my heart for the conversation to come.

Grabbing the paint can I picked up this morning, I pop open the lid. The cream color Cam and I chose is warm and inviting, perfect for our little kitchen, the heart of our home. As I stir the paint, my mind wanders to the good times Cam and I have shared in this kitchen. The way he looks at me over his coffee mug in the mornings, sleepy-eyed and smiling. The way we dance around as we cook, stealing kisses between tastes of whatever it is we’re whipping up. So much laughter and love. I can’t resist and paint a small section of the wall next to the window.

And that’s how Cam finds me when he bustles through the door a short while later, arms laden with takeout bags, his face split in a grin. “Looking good, babe!”

I set down my brush and go to him. “It’s going to be perfect,” I say, and pull him in for a kiss. And for the first time since leaving the doctor’s office, I truly believe it.