1.10 Golden Sand


When I look back on those years, it seems like time slipped through my fingers like golden sand; smoothly, roughly, beautifully, painfully, none of it left behind.

Even after years of trying Yuki and I had no children- something that bought us sorrow, but one we refused to share. One night I heard Yuki crying in bed, muffled under the covers, and I took my violin outside and played until she was done. When I came back in she smiled at me as if nothing happened, and I smiled back. A failure of a husband I was, pretending not to notice her red-rimmed eyes, when we both knew it was something that could not go unnoticed. Still we resolutely did not talk about it, both of us stubbornly trying to hide our own pain for the sake of the other, both knowing it wasn’t working.

I had given up in my heart any hope of ever having children, and on some days I found myself thinking that that was okay. One day we will both stop trying, and be happy with what we have as we grow old together. Some things, I told myself, aren’t meant to be, no matter how much you wish otherwise.

Apart from that, everything was going better than I had hoped. My old shack was no more, for one thing. It was now replaced with a modest house. Small, but nothing like the crude thing I had cobbled up when I moved back here.

My career, too, was flourishing. My violin skill has improved greatly since my lamentable debut. Two or so years ago I had joined the local symphony orchestra, giving us much more stability than a solo hired violinist.

So all in all, things were looking up for us. When more time passes, we’ll find it in our hearts to let go of what we can’t have and be happy. That’s what I thought to myself.


On the week before our fifth wedding anniversary, I was moved up to first violin in the symphony orchestra. I came home and hugged Yuki and we danced in joyous circles around the living room.

Yuki laughed breathlessly. “I never knew you were such a good dancer.”

“It’s not something you see often,” I said. “But those who have seen it all agree…”

We slowed until we were merely holding each other while turning slowly on the spot. I couldn’t stop stroking her silky smooth hair, still dyed the same vibrant blue as when we had first met. Still beautiful. Still lovely.

“Leo?” she said, her voice muffled against my shoulder.

“Mm hmm,” I mumbled back.

“We’re going to have a baby.”

6 thoughts on “1.10 Golden Sand

  1. Oh yay!
    I understand the infertility here…all too well. 😦
    In fact it’s funny that you say they finally got pregnant on their 5th anniversary because… it was OUR fifth anniversary too when hubby and I finally had a successful pregnancy. ❤
    Our miracle baby is turning 7 in January. Time sure flies!

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Congratulations on the miracle baby! They must be at that stage where you think, oh, I hope you never grow up.
      When I tried to get these two to have a baby, they tried for a baby five times before it finally worked (hence the 5th anniversary). It was heartbreaking to watch Yuki cry after every failed attempt. But they got there!

      Liked by 3 people

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