Page 1 of Aquarius Awakening (BLP Signs of Love #20)

Save Your Tears

As we patiently waited for Dr. Carter to enter the room, the quietness inside was eerie.

My husband, Mason, and I were in to see our infertility specialist. We needed to discuss the outcome of our latest in vitro fertilization cycle.

This wasn’t our first time, but I prayed it was our last time being in this office.

Two years was a long time to pray for something that had yet to come to fruition.

Ironically, during this time, I had to have faith.

I remembered I asked my mother as a child how she chose my name.

She told me that she’d had a difficult pregnancy and one day looked up the definition of faith.

It was defined as complete confidence and trust in someone.

In her case, that someone was God. Right now, in this season of my life, my mother’s words replay in my mind.

My faith was being tested, but I continued to put my trust in God.

My stomach was in knots of anticipation.

I continued to silently pray that the one embryo that we transferred would give me the result I desired.

The white walls of the office made it feel sterile.

I hated the ugly blue they chose for the chairs.

To pass the time, I found myself redecorating the room in my mind.

The walls could use some paint, and the chairs could go.

I struggled to turn off the designer in me during idle times.

Idle time meant I would figure out things to improve from someone’s outfit to the space I sat in.

The best thing about the office was the expensive cherry wood desk.

Mason sat next to me on his phone, lost in his own world.

His expression was blank. As the senior vice president of a large financial institution, he stayed on the phone.

Most of the time, emails occupied his time.

I envied him during the course of this process.

His part of this process was easy in my opinion.

All he had to do was provide a semen sample that we stored away.

My body took on the brunt of this entire ordeal.

I gave myself injections daily, making sure to change my diet.

During the past two years, I tried every suggestion I found on the internet.

My faith was what kept me going, even though the prognosis going into this was bleak.

A few moments later, there was a gentle knock at the door. I turned to face Dr. Carter, while Mason never looked up from his phone.

“Mr. and Mrs. Baxter, it’s so good to see you both,” Dr. Carter greeted us.

“It’s good to see you as well, Dr. Carter,” I replied with a smile.

“Hey, Dr. Carter,” Mason said.

Dr. Carter smiled at Mason and me as she took a seat at the large desk.

Over the years, I noticed Dr. Carter seemed to be a creature of habit to an extent.

She seemed to have a pensive expression whenever she came to deliver questionable news.

Each time Dr. Carter entered this office, she would log onto the computer to pull up our file.

I always felt she knew our outcome prior to this, but again, this was her routine.

“I wish I had better news for both of you. Unfortunately, the pregnancy test results are negative,” she explained.

I felt my soul leave my body. Deep inside, I felt a scream that longed to be freed, but now wasn’t the time or the place.

“We knew this was a possibility. I’m sorry I don’t have better news for either of you,” she continued.

I looked over at Mason, who was still on his phone. There was no change in his expression as if he knew the outcome before Dr. Carter opened her mouth. Mason never hid his disappointment surrounding this recurring struggle. At this point, I didn’t expect him to behave any differently.

“As you both know, we used the last embryo you had available. Would you like to consider thawing out the oocytes you previously froze and fertilizing them?” she asked.

The frozen oocytes were my backup plan. They were the last resort if all else failed. I couldn’t believe we were here. After another failed cycle, I couldn’t help but feel like a failure. My chest ached as dread set in.

“Actually, Dr. Carter, I think I need to take a break from further treatments at this time. Maybe I should give my body a break before we continue the process,” I whispered.

“Of course, Faith. A little rest and relaxation are always good. My team and I are here to support you… whatever you decide. If you need to meet with one of our therapists during the break, please feel free to do so. I understand how disheartening this news is. While your journey hasn’t been easy, please try to be optimistic.

Take all the time you need,” she replied.

“Thank you for everything, Dr. Carter. I’m sure we’ll be in touch soon,” I responded as I stood to leave the office.

Mason gave a nod to Dr. Carter as he stood and followed me out of the office.

I made my way to the elevator bank, and he was on my heels.

His phone had been put away, but he never looked at me.

As the elevator doors opened, I hesitated to step out as my movements felt delayed.

I entered first, and then Mason followed.

We were alone but on opposite sides of the elevator.

We stood face to face, but Mason still didn’t say a word.

After what felt like the longest ride, the elevator dinged.

We had finally reached the lobby after the uncomfortably quiet ride down.

We walked outside side by side and exited the building.

“Look, I have to head to a meeting. I probably won’t be home for dinner,” he informed me.

“A meeting? Is that what you’re focused on right now? You’ve been in your phone the entire time, and now you have to go?” I asked, shaking my head in disbelief.

“Now is not the time to talk about this. I’ll see you later, okay?” he stated in a low tone.

Without another word, Mason left me standing in the middle of the busy sidewalk by myself.

The lack of communication was consistent with his controlling nature.

Regardless of my feelings, he wanted us to move on his time.

I knew my husband well, and there was no meeting.

He was using work as an excuse to avoid the same conversation we continued to have almost daily.

Mason held his composure in front of Dr. Carter, but I knew he wouldn’t be so composed later this evening.

I watched Mason walk to the left up 71 st Street. Once he was out of sight, I proceeded to hail a cab. In a New York minute, the yellow taxi approached me and came to a full stop.

Once I was settled inside, the driver asked, “Where to, miss?”

“Fifty-Seven and Fifth, please,” I instructed.

I sat in the back seat, staring aimlessly out the window.

The cab driver navigated the busy Manhattan streets with ease.

At the very thought of the news, I gave in to the tears that threatened to fall.

I was also upset with Mason. It annoyed me that my Aquarian nature wouldn’t allow me to be upset for too long.

Being forced to put my feelings on the back burner was something I was used to.

As the head of a major fashion house, there wasn’t time for me to wallow in self-pity.

Fashion Week was three weeks away, and there was still so much to plan.

Today, we were having a casting call for models, so my tears and the ache in my heart would just have to wait.

As the driver pulled in front of my office building, I put on my oversized sunglasses.

Although it was gloomy outside, I feared my eyes would reveal my sadness.

I paid for the cab ride and then got out of the car.

The lobby appeared to be filled with the models scheduled for today’s casting call.

I looked around at the young, hopeful faces.

At thirty-five, I felt much older than my age.

The lack of sleep over the past few weeks during my recent cycle left my body exhausted.

Memories of being young and hopeful flooded my mind as I made my way to the thirty-fifth floor.

When I stepped onto my floor, the sound of my team collaborating made me smile. The designers were having a debate over some design. I gave a nod in their direction so as not to disturb them. With all their commotion, I looked forward to seeing what they were working on.

Right before my office was the office of my executive assistant and best friend, Milani.

I gave her a wave. Instead of returning the gesture, she did a thumbs-up and then a thumbs-down motion.

My gesture was thumbs down, and without words, she knew I had failed another round of treatment.

Milani came from around her desk to follow me into my office.

I set my bag down as she closed the door.

“Do you need anything?” she asked softly.

“I just need to work. Any type of distraction is welcome right now,” I answered.

“Say no more. The models have arrived, so we can head to the conference room to get started,” she affirmed.

I grabbed a notepad and a pen from my desk.

With the number of models we expected to show, it would be impossible to remember everyone.

Every casting call was a long process, but I loved it.

Milani and I made our way to the back entrance of the conference room.

I liked to keep an element of surprise when we did these auditions.

As we opened the heavy mahogany doors, the squeals from the young models filled the room.

They all seemed to whisper in unison. “Oh my God! It’s her! It’s Faith Baxter!”

I greeted them as I entered the room. “Hello, everyone. Thank you so much for coming out today for this opportunity with Love Faith. The turnout today is expected to be large, so please don’t be discouraged if you aren’t chosen this time around.

You never know when an opportunity will arise, so give it all you’ve got today,” I advised before taking my seat behind the long mahogany desk next to Milani.

The inaudible whispers from young, eager models always brightened my day. This time of the year was my favorite. My throat was parched, so I took a sip from the bottle of water near my nameplate. Milani and I looked at each other, and I gave her a nod to confirm I was ready to get started.