My results came back normal.
I sat in my truck outside the clinic holding the report and crying from relief and confusion at the same time.
I called Evan and told him everything looked fine on my side.
Then I asked him to schedule his own testing.
He promised he would.
He did not do it that week.
He did not do it the following month.
Work was busy.
Insurance was complicated.
The timing was wrong.
Stress could affect results.
His reasons changed, but the appointment never happened.
While he postponed the testing, his mother became increasingly certain that the problem was me.
Marlene Mercer rarely raised her voice.
She did not need to.
She delivered every insult as though she were offering compassionate advice.
She described me as too hardened by military life, too independent, and too physically worn down to raise children properly.
Sometimes she suggested that certain women simply were not made for motherhood.
