Chapter 4 Still here

(Amara)

The drive back from the clinic had been silent, each of us lost in thoughts we couldn’t share. And now, standing here, the weight of what the doctor had said presses on me.

“No.”

The word leaves my mouth before I can stop it.

I turn to face them. Felix and Selina stand behind me, side by side, like children waiting to be scolded. My gaze moves between them, slow, disbelieving.

“I’m not agreeing to that,” I say. My voice shakes, but I force the words out anyway. “You can’t expect me to. There has to be another way. Any other way.”

I look at Selina now. “The doctor said there are options. Exercises. Medication. You do not have to sleep with her, Felix.”

My chest feels tight. Too tight.

Felix exhales and steps forward. He reaches for me, pulling me into his arms. His hug is firm, familiar, and it almost breaks me.

“Calm down, Amara,” he says softly. “I don’t want this either.”

I stiffen in his hold.

“But,” he continues, pulling back just enough to look at my face, “for the sake of the baby, we have to.”

The words hit like a slap.

I shake my head slowly. Tears blur my vision as images force themselves into my mind. Felix. Selina. A bed that is not mine anymore.

“No,” I whisper. “It’s too much. I can’t do this.”

“It won’t be all the time,” he says quickly. “Just a few times. Only until she delivers. Nothing will change between us. I promise.”

A sound tears out of my throat. His name. Broken. Useless.

“Felix…”

He pulls me back into his chest. My tears soak into his shirt, darkening the silk. He rubs my back, murmuring things I barely hear.

The rest of the evening dissolves into night.

The house feels hollow. Like something essential has been removed and no one knows how to put it back. I sit alone with a drink in my hand, staring at walls I once believed would protect me.

Everything I thought was solid is shifting.

For the baby.

I finish the drink and stand. My legs feel heavy as I walk to my room.

When I open the door, Felix is stepping out of the bathroom.

He says my name quietly. “Amara.”

Water trails down his chest. His hair is damp. Bare skin. Familiar skin.

My throat tightens.

I can’t remember the last time we were like this together. Work. Exhaustion. Missed nights. That’s why I wanted our anniversary to matter. That’s why I tried.

The memory sours instantly.

Felix takes a step toward me, his eyes dark, searching. The look he always gives when he wants me.

I walk past him without a word.

I climb onto the bed and pull the duvet over myself, turning my back to him. I feel his stare on my skin, but I don’t turn.

Why would I?

When the man you love is preparing to warm another woman’s body, what dignity is left to save?

A knock breaks the silence.

Felix opens the door.

Selina stands there.

My jaw tightens.

She steps inside slowly, one hand resting on her stomach. Her voice is soft when she speaks.

“Can we use this room tonight?”

The world tilts.

Felix says her name, warning, but she doesn’t look at him. She looks at me.

I sit up. “What did you just say?”

“You told me to let you know if the baby needs anything,” she says calmly. Her hand moves over her stomach. “This is what the baby needs.”

Anger flashes through me. Sharp. Hot.

“When I said that, I did not include my bedroom,” I snap. “You have your own room. Leave.”

She bursts into tears.

The suddenness shocks me.

“My body aches,” she cries. “Lying alone hurts. And if we try to… do it like that…” Her voice breaks. “I’m scared it’s affecting the baby.”

“That’s why we went to the doctor,” I say, trying to steady myself. “And she didn’t say anything was wrong. Except…” my voice trails, unable to even say the word as my eyes finds Felix, like it could bore holes into his head. 

Selina wipes her face. “You weren’t there when I told her about my back pain.” Her gaze lifts to mine, quiet but pointed. “Why are you so upset, Amara? It’s not like I’ll be here all night. Just a few minutes.”

My heart stutters.

“What?”

“You’re insane,” I say, standing. “You think I’ll give you my bed? My room?”

I step closer. “Leave. Now.”

She looks past me.

At Felix.

He says nothing.

That silence is louder than any answer.

She lowers her head and turns toward the door.

Relief barely has time to form before Felix speaks.

“Selina, wait.”

My breath leaves me.

He reaches for her hand and turns to me. “If she’s in pain, we should help her. We can’t ignore it.”

My hands tremble.

“The baby matters more than a room,” he continues. “She’s carrying our child.”

Our child.

The words hollow me out.

“So what are you saying?” I whisper. “What exactly are you about to do?”

He doesn’t answer.

He guides Selina to the bed. My bed.

He helps her sit, arranging pillows behind her back. His hands move carefully, gently. Intimately.

“Unless you want to stay,” he says without looking at me, “you should leave.”

The room blurs.

Selina smiles up at him as he kneels to massage her legs. They talk softly. Laugh.

Like a couple.

Like I am already gone.

Tears slide down my face, hot and uncontrollable.

This isn’t real.

It can’t be.

I stand there for a moment longer, hoping—stupidly—that Felix will turn to me. That he will call my name. That he will stop me.

He doesn’t.

My chest tightens until breathing hurts. I turn before they can see me break and walk out of the room.

The door closes behind me.

I stop in the hallway, my hand pressed to the wall, my body shaking.

I am still here.

Still feeling it all.

And that is the part that hurts the most.