The unscheduled Devotion

A Blade Through the Quiet

Episode 2

In that quiet morning light, everything felt perfect simple, peaceful, and utterly ours.

As a doctor at Bigde Side Hospital in Celestia City, my mornings were always rushed. Patients, reports, and endless rounds all waiting for me before the day even began. That morning, I left home early, leaving Davidson to get ready for his own day at the company.

The drive to work was quiet, the kind of calm that makes you miss the warmth of home. But as soon as I arrived, everything moved fast patients in the waiting hall, nurses calling my name, the steady hum of hospital life.

Yet, as the days passed, something strange began to happen. I started feeling dizzy lightheaded at first, then heavier each morning. My body felt tired, my face softer, my steps slower. Even my clothes began to fit differently.

Davidson noticed, of course. He always does.

“Babe, maybe you should run a few tests,” he’d said one evening, concern shadowing his usual calm tone.

I laughed it off at first, thinking it was stress… or maybe too many late night noodle dinners. But deep down, I knew something was different.

When the test results finally came in, I stared at the report, my hands trembling. The realization hit me like a quiet wave soft, yet world changing.

There weren’t just my heartbeats anymore.

There were two hearts beating inside me.

I didn’t know what to feel. Happiness? Fear? Maybe both. It was as if two emotions were fighting inside me, neither willing to let go.

By the time I got home five minutes past six the house was quiet, just as it always was before he returned. I busied myself in the kitchen, preparing steamed beef and vegetables, trying to keep my mind from wandering back to the test results that had changed everything.

At exactly 7:05, I heard the familiar sound of the door unlocking. Davidson stepped in, his presence filling the space with that calm, comforting energy I’d fallen in love with. He came over, brushed a soft kiss against my cheek, and went upstairs to shower.

Minutes stretched into what felt like forever. When he finally came back down, he was wearing a simple white T-shirt slightly transparent from the shower’s steam clinging to him in all the right places. He looked effortlessly sexy, and for a moment, I almost forgot how heavy my heart felt.

Dinner was quiet at first. I tried to eat, but my mind was a thousand miles away. I kept glancing at him, wondering how to say it… wondering what his face would look like when he heard.

He set down his fork and looked at me, concern softening his voice.

“Baby, what’s wrong? You look… distracted. Is something bothering you?”

My throat tightened. I wanted to speak, but the words trembled at the edge of my lips. My hands were cold, my heart racing.

Finally, with a shaky breath, I looked into his eyes and saidJust imagine me,” I said softly, trying to lighten the mood, “pregnant and walking barefoot in the kitchen.”

Davidson froze mid bite and for a second, I thought he might choke on his food. I laughed nervously.

“Sorry… it’s not the barefoot part that shocked you, is it? It’s the pregnant part.”

Silence.

I waited for his usual quick wit, his teasing smile, anything. But instead, there was only stillness. I slowly lifted my gaze to his face, trying to read what words hadn’t yet said.

And then I saw it. His eyes usually so calm and steady were burning like red coals, filled with disbelief and fear.

“The test results are out,” I whispered, my voice trembling just a little. “I’m pregnant, Davidson.”

He set down his fork slowly, his jaw tightening. The words that followed sliced through the quiet like a blade.

“You need to abort that baby, Sharon.”

My breath caught. For a moment, I thought I’d misheard him.

“I know you’re still not over what happened with your mom,” he continued, his tone sharp but breaking underneath, “but not everyone survives childbirth like that. I can’t— I won’t lose you the way your father lost her.”

His fear was raw, almost desperate. But my own heart was just as fierce.

“I know that, Dave,” I said, my voice soft but unwavering. “I’m a doctor. I know the risks. I also know the safeguards. Please…” I reached across the table, my fingers brushing his. “Let’s just have this baby. Don’t let fear steal this from us.”

He didn’t speak only stared at me, eyes glistening with conflict, love, and something neither of us could name.Before I could say another word, Davidson stood up abruptly and walked out the door slamming behind him with a loud BANG! that echoed through the house like thunder.

For a long moment, I just stood there, frozen.

Then the silence hit me.

“He’s gone,” I whispered to myself, the words breaking as they left my lips.

Tears burned my eyes as I sank to the floor, clutching my belly. My voice trembled as I whispered softly, “Don’t worry, little one. Mom’s got you. Everything will be fine.”

But even as I said it, I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince the baby or myself.

The kitchen was still a mess, plates left untouched, steam fading into the air. I could barely see through my tears, the world around me dull and blurred. I stumbled out, walking down the hallway into a room any room just to get away from the emptiness.

I didn’t bother turning off the lights. What difference would it make?

Darkness had already found me.

At some point, exhaustion dragged me under. I didn’t know when I drifted into sleep, but the sound that woke me was sharp something crashing downstairs. My heart pounded as I got up and made my way down, the floorboards cold under my feet.

I went straight to the kitchen for a glass of water, trying to calm the ache inside me. Then I saw it Davidson’s phone, buzzing on the counter.

The screen lit up. Once. Twice. Again.

At first, I ignored it. It wasn’t my call to answer.

But when it rang the fourth time, something inside me stirred. My hand trembled as I picked it up.

“Hello?” I whispered.

A soft, feminine voice floated through the line.

“Baby, hope you got home safe.”

The cup slipped slightly in my grip, water catching in my throat. I coughed, nearly choking on the shock.

“Who is this?” I managed to ask, my voice sharp and trembling.

But there was no answer. Just silence. Then click. The line went dead.

And suddenly, the room felt colder than before. My mind was restless the entire night. I couldn’t shake the voice I’d heard on the phone that soft, feminine tone calling him baby.

Was Davidson cheating on me?

The thought stung, but I refused to let suspicion cloud my mind without proof. Still, the ache behind my eyes turned into a full blown headache. I told myself I’d focus on work that I’d think clearly once the day settled in.

So, I did what I always do best I buried myself in routine. I dressed, grabbed my things, and left for the hospital without even saying goodbye.

Work was chaos back-to-back patients, paperwork piling high. It was almost comforting to lose myself in the rhythm of it. I didn’t even realize how late it had gotten until my assistant walked in with a tray.

“Doctor, you forgot lunch again,” she said gently.

Only then did I feel it the hollow hunger in my stomach, the exhaustion crawling up my spine. I checked my phone: six missed calls from Davidson. Guilt pricked at me, but it was too late in the day to call back.

By the time I left the hospital, the sky had deepened to shades of gold and violet. I was unlocking my car when a familiar sound made me pause Davidson’s car pulling up fast beside me.

He stepped out, worry etched deep across his face.

“Sharon, are you okay? You didn’t answer my calls! I thought something happened”

He kept firing questions before I could even breathe.

“I’m fine, Davidson,” I finally said, forcing a small smile. “Work got busy. I didn’t even notice the time.”

He exhaled, his shoulders easing just a bit. “You scared me,” he murmured, then managed a faint smile. “Since you’re fine… how about dinner? There’s a new restaurant nearby. My treat.”

I hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Sure. I could use a meal.”

He opened the car door for me the perfect gentleman, as always and called his driver to pick up mine. We drove in silence, the air between us thick with words neither of us could say.

The restaurant was elegant, glowing under dim amber lights. He booked a private room for us, tucked away from the world. As we sat waiting for our meals, the silence became unbearable until he finally spoke.

“Sharon,” he began softly, his voice steady but laced with guilt, “I know you’re mad at me… and I don’t blame you.”

He reached across the table, taking my hand gently.

“I’m so sorry for walking out that night, for everything I said. And about the baby…” he paused, his eyes glistening with sincerity, “I’m ready. Ready to be a father. Ready to do this with you. I don’t want to lose you, Sharon. Not now, not ever.”

He took a deep breath, his thumb brushing my hand as his voice dropped to a whisper.

“And always remember I’ll love you until I take my last breath.”

The world seemed to slow in that moment. For the first time in days, I felt my heart soften torn between lingering doubts and the love that still bound us together.

But I wasn’t ready to forgive him yet not so easily. My heart wanted to, but my pride wouldn’t let me. So I stayed silent, pretending to still be angry.

Davidson watched me closely, searching my face for some sign of softness, but I gave him none. The quiet between us was heavy, broken only by the soft clinking of cutlery and the low hum of the restaurant’s music.

Finally, he spoke, his tone calm but resolute.

“I’ll prove it to you, Sharon White,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine. “I, Davidson Washington, am ready to take full responsibility for you, and for our baby. No matter what it takes.”

Before I could respond, the waiter arrived with our meal — baked rice with vegetables, still steaming and fragrant. I busied myself with the food, pretending to focus on the plate while sneaking glances at him every now and then.

He, on the other hand, barely touched his meal. His gaze stayed fixed on me the entire time studying me as though trying to read the thoughts I kept hidden behind my quiet composure.

Dinner passed in a slow rhythm of stolen glances and unspoken words.

By the time we left the restaurant, the clock read 9:45 p.m. The air outside was cool, the night sky scattered with faint stars. The drive home was silent — not cold, but uncertain, the kind of silence that carries a thousand unsaid emotions.

When we got home, I said nothing. I simply headed upstairs, slipped into my bathrobe, and went straight into the bathroom.