The Request

I’m still in bed when Jeremy comes back three hours later, propped up against the pillows, the plate of toast and scrambled eggs he made me eat sitting empty on the nightstand.

“It’s done,” he says, holding up my phone.

“Everything’s wiped. I had him do a full factory reset and reinstall everything fresh. If there was a tracker on there, it’s gone now.”

He hands it to me and I turn it on, watching the screen light up.

The loading screen feels like it takes forever, that little spinning circle mocking me while I wait to see just how many messages are waiting.

Thirty-two missed calls.

Forty-seven text messages.

Eight voicemails.

All from Ryan except for the one from Reina.

I scroll through Ryan’s messages without opening them, just reading the preview text that shows up on the lock screen.

“Where are you”

“Answer your phone”

“This isn’t funny Camille”

“I know you’re ignoring me”

“We need to talk”

They get progressively angrier as I scroll down, his carefully controlled mask slipping with each one until the last few are just strings of accusations.

“You think you can just disappear?”

“This isn’t over”

“You’re a terrible liar”

“Why do this ..????”

My finger hovers over the delete button but I don’t press it because some part of me thinks I might need these later, might need proof of what he’s really like when he doesn’t get his way.

Jeremy’s watching me but not saying anything, giving me space to process whatever I need to process.

I read the one from Reina.

“Where have you been? Your phone’s been off for hours. Ryan’s freaking out. Are you okay?”

I stare at her message and something cold settles in my stomach.

“You don’t have to respond right now,” Jeremy says, watching my face.

“She’s going to ask questions.”

“Let her.”

Before I can decide what to do, the phone starts ringing in my hand.

Reina’s name on the screen.

I answer before I can talk myself out of it.

“Oh my god, Camille, where have you been?” Reina’s voice comes through frantic. “I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”

“My phone died. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Ryan called me, he said he went to some guy Jeremy’s place looking for you and—”

“I don’t want to talk about Ryan,” I cut her off.

Silence on the other end for a beat.

“Okay,” Reina says slowly, carefully. “Okay, we don’t have to talk about Ryan. Just tell me—are you safe? Where are you staying?”

I glance at Jeremy, who’s pretending not to listen but obviously is.

“I’m safe. I’m staying with a friend.”

“What friend? Camille, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

“It’s someone from before. You don’t know them.”

“Then give me an address. I’ll come to you. We can talk in person.”

“No. I just—I need space right now.”

Long silence. Then her voice, quieter: “Is there something you aren’t telling me?”

My breath stops.

“Camille, talk to me ”

“I have to go. I’ll call you when I have time.”

I hang up before she can say anything else and I set the phone down on the bed beside me, suddenly exhausted despite having done nothing but lie here all day.

Jeremy sits down in the chair again.

“She knows something’s wrong,” I say.

He sighs

“She’s going to tell Ryan.”

“Maybe. But Ryan can’t track you anymore. And he doesn’t know where you are.”

“He’ll find out eventually. He always does.”

Jeremy doesn’t argue with that because we both know it’s true.

My phone buzzes again and I almost don’t look, almost just turn it off and throw it across the room, but something makes me check.

A message from the hospital.

Reminder: Follow-up appointment scheduled for Thursday 2pm. Please bring partner to discuss test results and prenatal care plan.

My hands start shaking before I even finish reading it.

Jeremy notices immediately.

“What is it?”

I show him the message without saying anything.

He scrolls down and I watch his face change, brow furrowing.

“What?” I ask.

He looks up at me and there’s something in his eyes I can’t read.

“It says they need to discuss test results. What test results?”

And just like that, everything goes cold

“I don’t know,” I say, but my voice sounds wrong. “She just said there were things we needed to talk about. With the father. I thought she meant about prenatal care or—”

“Cam.” Jeremy’s voice has gone very quiet. “This is not normal, What if something’s actually wrong?”

The question catches me mid-breath and suddenly I can’t breathe again.

“We don’t know that,” I say, but I’m trying to convince myself as much as him. “It could be routine. It could be nothing.”

“Or it could be something.”

We stare at each other and the weight of everything unsaid presses down so heavy I think I might break under it.

My phone buzzes one more time.

Another message from the hospital.

I didn’t pay attention to it.

“You have to go,” Jeremy says. “To that appointment. You have to find out what they need to tell you.”

“I don’t know if I can—”

“Can’t they see you without a partner there?” He cuts in

“They can,” I say slowly. “But only if—”

I stop because I don’t know how to finish that sentence, don’t know if I can actually ask him what I’m about to ask him.

Jeremy’s looking at me with those questioning eyes.

“If what?”

My thoughts spirals.

This is insane. I know it’s insane even as I’m about to say it out loud but I don’t have another option. I can’t go to that appointment alone, can’t hear whatever test results they need to discuss without someone there to help me process it.

Jeremy’s still looking at me, patient, waiting for me to finish the sentence I started.

“They won’t see me alone,” I say, the words coming out slow and careful. “Or if they do, they won’t tell me everything. Mrs. Kimberly said they need to discuss things with both parents. It’s policy or protocol or something. And I can’t—I can’t bring Ryan. I can’t let him know about any of this.”

“So what are you saying?”

I meet his eyes and hope he can see how desperate I am, how much It hurts that I have to ask this.

“I’m saying the only way I can go to that appointment and find out what’s wrong is if someone comes with me.”

Understanding dawns across his face and he sits back slightly, processing.

“Cam—”

I take a breath. “I know what I’m asking. I know it’s not fair and I know it’s a lot and if you can’t do it I understand,”

I pause “But this can only work if you claim to be the father.”