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Chapter Five: The Appointment
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2026-03-24 02:03:53Aira didn’t tell him about the second appointment.
She almost did. When the reminder notification popped up that morning, her first instinct was to text him. Not because she wanted comfort. Just because for three years, he had been the person she informed about everything. Running late. Reached safely. Doctor said I’m fine. Now her thumb hovered over his name and she felt ridiculous. She deleted the message before she finished typing it. The clinic was quieter this time. Fewer people. Or maybe she just felt less aware of them. The first visit had been shock. This one felt heavier. More real. When the nurse called her name, she stood slowly. The nausea had been worse the past two days. Not dramatic — just constant. A low hum of discomfort under everything. The doctor spoke gently again. Asked about symptoms. About sleep. “Stress can make everything feel amplified,” she said. Aira almost laughed. If only it were just stress. When they did the scan, she wasn’t prepared for the sound. It was faint. Fast. Almost unreal. Her breath caught before she could stop it. The room felt too small suddenly. Too intimate. Like she was intruding on something sacred and private. “That’s the heartbeat,” the doctor said softly. Heartbeat. The word settled differently this time. Not abstract. Not theoretical. There was a rhythm now. Something alive. Something depending on her. She nodded. She didn’t trust her voice. On the way home, she didn’t put on music. She didn’t call anyone. She just drove slowly, one hand resting against the steering wheel, the other over her stomach. Heartbeat. Lucien had a steady heartbeat too. She used to fall asleep listening to it when he lay on his back. The thought came without permission. Her chest tightened. Her phone rang just as she pulled into the driveway. Lucien. She let it ring once. Twice. Then she answered. “What is it?” she asked quietly. A pause. “I need to ask you something.” His tone was different. Less composed. “What?” “Were you at the hospital this morning?” Her fingers tightened around the phone. “How would you know that?” “I saw your car.” Of course he did. He had meetings nearby sometimes. “It wasn’t the hospital,” she said carefully. “It was a clinic.” Silence. “For what?” he asked. There it was. The line she had been walking toward for days. She could tell him. Right now. End this tension. But the image of him signing those papers, calm and certain, flashed in her mind. “Stress,” she said. He didn’t respond immediately. “You keep saying that,” he murmured. “It’s true.” Another silence. He exhaled slowly. “If you’re sick, I need to know.” Need. Not want. Not hope. Need. “You don’t need anything from me anymore,” she said quietly. That hit him. She heard it in the way his breathing changed. “You don’t get to shut me out like this,” he said. Aira closed her eyes. “You ended us, Lucien.” “That doesn’t erase three years.” The words were sharper now. Closer to emotion. “Then why does it feel like it does?” she asked. He didn’t answer. Neither of them hung up. They just stayed on the line, breathing. It felt intimate. Dangerous. “I’ll call you later,” he said finally. She didn’t respond before the line went dead.
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