Page 14 of We Drank the Dawn

“That place takes forever on to-go orders.” He drew a long, shaky breath. “Could you just—eat something at home? I’m honestly ready to go to bed.”

“At 6 o’clock?”

“What else am I supposed to do, Sarah?” My spine straightened at his venomous tone, my knuckles turning white on the wheel. His words spewed. “It doesn’t matter what time it is. All I can do is sit in the dark and stare into space.”

I swallowed down my feelings in order to merge onto the freeway. “But we can still spend time together. We could play a game or maybe talk⁠—”

“Talk?” In my peripheral vision, he shook his head. “About what? About Dr. Hollinger finally ripping the bandaid off?” His voice rose to a volume not intended for the small confines of an automobile. “About the fact that I’m going to be blind for the rest of our lives? About the fact that everything we ever wanted is impossible now?”

“That’s—that’s not true.”

“Stop, Sarah.”

“It’s not. That’s a lie you’re believing. Dr. Hollinger said rehab will teach you all you need to know. We can still travel and have a family⁠—”

“Have a family.” Peter repeated the words as if they were crazy. “You really think we can still have a family?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t we?”

He didn’t respond, just rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“Peter,” I prodded him.

His violent exhale vibrated his chest. “How could we? Sarah, you’ll be the breadwinner from here on out. IVF is going to put your body through the wringer. And then what? You’re also going to take care of me and a baby? It’s too much.”

There were so many flaws in his way of thinking. I wanted to correct them all, but he was grieving. And who could blame him? It was normal for him to feel like he’d always be on the receiving end of care, that he could never learn how to care for another—let alone a baby. Accounting probably felt like an absolute pipe dream. And right now, he didn’t view himself as an equal partner, but one day he would—surely.

For the briefest moment, my heart flashed back to the tender love we shared that night at Meadowbrook—Peter’s fingers releasing the clips in my hair. His kisses as he led me into the shower. The whispered plans about our future family.

Gritting my teeth, I forced my brain away from that precious memory.

The consultation we had scheduled with reproductive endocrinology was in April. “Of course, we’ll cancel our appointment. But we are not counting it out for the future. I am not going to count it out. Rehab will help you so much. I know it.”

Peter turned his head toward the window, falling silent.

And my hasty promise echoed in the car the rest of the way home.

I know it.

But the placating words were just that—words.

Lifeless and flimsy. A silly offering when the truth was banging on our eardrums.

We knew nothing about our future. And every step forward—for both of us—would be a step straight into the dark. Where anything could happen.

DUSK

SIX

Sarah

One and a half weeks ago

Ipulled into my mother-in-law’s driveway like Cruella Deville, tires screeching over the asphalt.

My temper glowed as red as my hair, and this time, I wasn’t going to toss water on it for anyone. Not Peter. Not Cal. And certainly not Lynn. They all asked for it.

I threw my Subaru into park before I’d even come to a complete stop, which was probably terrible for the transmission, but I didn’t care. Yanking open the door, the crisp autumn breeze whipped through my loose curls and my navy scrubs scratched against my torso, heightening my need to put a fist through the wall. But I couldn’t damage my hands since they were the only ones putting dinner on the table while Peter cried to mommy every damn day.