MasukDIANA
I stood in front of the bed, watching all the boxes that contained Neah's things. I wondered if it was best to let go of hold on to them. I picked up her blanket from the bed and sniffed it. I decided that it was best to send everything off. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw a piece of paper that sat on the bedside table, I didn't notice it there before. I walked towards it and realized that it was a drawing made by Neah. There were three stick figures and a writing at the bottom left of the paper. “Daddy, mommy and I miss you so much.” I stroked the words and then decided I was going to take it, as a reminder. I folded it up and placed it in my purse. I went through my phone and sent a text to a number that I haven't dared to call for the past six years. “Hello Jaylen, I'm divorced now, I need help in moving some things to charity. Can you come and pick me up tomorrow?” Under the message, I texted the address and hoped that Jay still uses this number. I went to sleep, with tears in my ears and a bleeding heart. *** “I brought a bottle of wine!” “Camille, what are you doing here? Remember the doctor asked you to rest.” “Baby, let's celebrate. You're now single! Well, you have me of course but you get what I mean?” “Camille, please stop, I'm not in the mood.” She gave me a naughty smile and sank to her knees, with finely manicured fingers, she took down my zipper and started to pull my pants down. I grabbed her hands and held her tight. “Nathan, you're hurting me!” she winced and I let her go. “Sorry… But I'm not in the mood.” She was taken aback. “Camille you have to leave, I need to be alone” “Are you chasing me out?” When I didn't respond, she turned around and left. I sank deeper into the couch and pulled my phone from my pocket, after dialing Diana a few times, it refused to go through. I called my secretary and asked him to dial her with the office phone. “Sir, it's not going through” There was silence in the room. “This might mean that she has blocked you.” When I turned to him, he pressed the dial button again and it didn't even ring. “Does that mean that she has blocked me? That's impossible.” Hot nails sank into my belly. The Phoenix started ringing and I felt a wave of relief and pride. Diana would never block me, not when she's too dependent on me. But when I took a look at the screen, I saw it was Camille. I ended the call and considered putting my phone on DND but Diana might call back. “Sir, are you alright? You don't look too good.” “I'm fine.” I got up from the couch and looked around. I used to think that getting Diana away from me was a good thing. Now I miss her more than ever. “I'm leaving, cancel all my plans for today. Clear the schedule for the entire week.” “Are you sure sir? You're supposed to have a meeting with–” “Clear my schedule.” I said cutting him off sharply “Alright sir, consider it done.” *** Part of me knew that it was a dream but it didn't lessen the torture. I was back in the hospital, I could hear a woman wailing in the corner, the smell of antiseptic was heavy in the air. I walked through the hallway and stopped at the ICU. Neah was sitting on her bed but it was wet and she was shivering. I looked closer only to find her staring at me. “Mummy, help me. I feel cold.” I pushed the door but it won't open, I kicked and screamed but it was bolted shut. “Mummy, ask daddy to help, he's strong.” I looked to the side and saw Nathan standing in the hall. He was seeing Neah through the window. “Nathan, do something. Help her… please” He turned his attention to me but instead of walking to me, he turned away and started walking out. I ran to him and grabbed his arm. “Nathan!” I yelled and he stopped. “Camille needs me.” he said coldly “Neah is still alive, you can save her. Help me open the door, please Nathan.” “I'm busy, Camille needs my help.” “But you're here now.” He turned away again and I ran back to Neah's room. With all my might, I slammed into the door and it burst open, but Neah was gone, the bed was empty. Then I was standing at the door of the funeral home, and the men were pulling me back. I was fighting them, scratching them to get to the other side of the compound, where my daughter was being cremated. They held me down while I cried and begged Neah to wake up. “I know what you feel. Your reaction is completely understood, I've watched many families react the same way and trust me when I tell you, it's not the end of the world….” The young woman with the red hair kept talking but I was not listening. I was mad with desperation. If I could trade my life for hers, I would do it without thinking twice. *** NATHAN The house was empty as I walked in. Neah and Diana always welcomed me. I walked to Neah's bedroom and I turned on the light. There were many boxes packed in the corner of the room and when I understood what it meant, I bolted out of the room. I ran to the master bedroom up the stairs, scared to find the house completely empty. “No Diana, don't leave me so soon… “ I whispered under my breath I turned on the lights and Diana was sleeping. The amount of relief I felt almost knocked me off my feet. I turned the light off and changed into my pajamas, I walked to the bed and noticed that Diana was still sleeping in the clothes she wore to the lawyer's office. I laid there for a while and just as I was about to fall asleep, I heard a sob breaking out. It was Diana.TWO YEARS LATER Two years old feels heavier than it sounds.Diana knows this as she stands by the window, watching the backyard slowly fill with people she once thought would never live long enough to argue about tablecloths and cake flavors. Two years is not just candles and balloons. It is survival stacked on top of survival until it starts to look like a life.Atlas turns two today.Outside, Oliver is setting up the long wooden table. He has the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, his movements careful but steady, like his body remembers pain but no longer obeys it. He keeps stopping to straighten the plates, to realign the cups, to check the cutlery like precision might ward off bad luck. Diana smiles at the sight of him.“You’re going to wear a hole into that table,” she calls through the open door.Oliver looks up, grinning. “Someone has to take this seriously.”That makes her laugh. A soft sound. Real.Dorothy arrives next, loud before she is even visible. She comes through the ga
Mikhail groans softly as the phone vibrates against the bedside table. He opens his eyes and he groans again when he realises that someone is calling him at night. It is still dark enough that the room feels suspended between night and morning, the kind of hour where reality has not fully decided to return. Diana is curled toward him, the blanket twisted around her naked body, her breathing slow and even. One arm is flung across his chest like an anchor, possessive even in sleep.He gently kisses her hand and rolls away from her. He reaches for the phone carefully, silencing it before it can ring again.“Hello,” he says quietly, already sitting up.He slips out of bed, tugging his boxer briefs on as he moves. The air feels colder without her warmth. He glances back once, just to make sure she has not stirred. She has not. Her hair is a mess on the pillow, lips parted slightly, peaceful.He closes the bedroom door behind him.“Hello,” the voice on the other end says.Mikhail freezes.
The house sits in the quiet part of the city where sound feels polite.Where neighbors nod instead of stare. Where the air smells like cut grass and warm wood. Where danger feels like a rumor instead of a certainty.Storm knows better than to believe that.She has never once mistaken peace for immunity. She just refuses to let fear dictate how she lives.She's noticed that life is much more sweeter when you're not running and looking behind your shoulder. It's more sweeter when you're not planning on how to take someone's life in exchange for money. She moves through the house barefoot, sunlight spilling across the floor, hair loose, oversized shirt slipping off one shoulder. There is a softness to her mornings now. A slowness she earned with blood and survival and too many nights spent waiting for the other shoe to drop.Her past might always haunt her.She will greet it when it comes.But for now, she is happy.“Dorothy!”Ark’s voice cuts through the quiet from outside.Storm groan
THREE MONTHS LATERThe stadium is loud in the way that feels alive.Not violent. Not dangerous. Just loud with joy, with strangers shouting together for the same reason, with hands thrown up and voices cracking from singing and yelling and believing in something simple.Diana sits beside Mikhail with her jacket open, one hand resting low on her belly. The bump is unmistakable now. Not something she has to search for in the mirror. It exists. It announces itself.Mikhail has learned the rules of football slowly, painfully, asking questions at the worst possible moments, shouting at the wrong plays, cheering a second too late. Diana loves it. Loves the way he leans forward like the outcome personally offends him. Loves the way he looks at her afterward to check if his reaction was correct.When their team wins, the stadium explodes.Mikhail stands without realizing it, fist in the air, shouting something that makes absolutely no sense. Diana laughs so hard her eyes water.“You’re one of
The days drag.Not loudly. Not dramatically. They drag in the quiet ways that make worry worse.Mikhail does not let Diana skip meals. He watches her plate like it is a mission, slides food closer when she forgets to eat, presses a glass of water into her hand without saying a word. He never frames it as concern. He frames it as normal. As if feeding her is simply part of loving her.She lets him.At night, he holds her tighter than usual. Not possessive. Protective. Like if he loosens his grip even a little, the world might take something else from him.When the phone finally rings, Diana jumps.Mikhail answers it before she can. His expression barely changes, but his shoulders stiffen.“Thank you,” he says. “We’re on our way.”“The results?” Diana asks and Mikhail nods “They're out.”The drive to the hospital feels longer than the last one.Jaylen is already there when they arrive.He looks calm. Too calm. His hands are folded in front of him, posture composed, face unreadable. He
Mikhail drives slower than usual.Diana notices it the moment they pull away from the curb. His hands are steady on the wheel, posture straight, eyes fixed ahead, but there is a restraint to him that feels unnatural. Like a man holding himself back from breaking something.Or someone.She watches the city blur past the window, then glances at him. His jaw is tight. His mouth set in a line that means he is thinking too much.“You’re going to wear a hole through the road,” she says softly.He exhales through his nose but does not look at her.“I am not worried,” he says.She almost laughs.She reaches over and rests her hand on his thigh, grounding herself as much as him.“Don’t lie to me,” she murmurs. “This is already messy. You don’t have to pretend.”He finally looks at her then. Really looks at her. His gaze drops briefly, involuntarily, to her belly before returning to her eyes.“What if,” he says quietly, “the baby is his.”The words hang between them.Diana turns them over in he







