Lucien hated hospitals.
Not because of fear.
Because of the waiting.
The kind of waiting that made time stretch in uncomfortable ways.
Selene sat beside him in the small clinic waiting room, scrolling idly through her phone while soft instrumental music played overhead. The place smelled faintly of antiseptic and lavender air freshener.
Lucien leaned back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest.
“You could have taken a home test,” he said after a moment.
Selene looked up.
“I know,” she replied gently. “But I thought it would be better to confirm properly.”
Lucien didn’t respond.
His gaze moved across the room instead, landing briefly on a young couple sitting across from them. The woman was visibly pregnant, her husband holding her hand while whispering something that made
