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We orbited each other politely, carefully.
I started noticing the way Ethan looked at families in restaurants.
One evening, after another doctor’s appointment, I sat on the edge of our bed and said it out loud.
“Maybe we should stop trying.”
Ethan stood by the window with his back to me. “I don’t want to give up on having a child.”
A few weeks later, he came home with a thickstack of documents tucked under his arm and an excited look on his face. “I’ve been researching surrogacy.”
I stared at the papers, then looked at him. At that moment, I thought maybe we were going to be okay.
“I don’t want to give up on having a child.”