Chapter Ten
1083 Words
The cake had gone slightly cold.
Ava didn’t notice at first.
Her gaze rested on the window, but her thoughts were elsewhere.
On Ethan.
A year and three months.
A year and three months of marriage shouldn’t feel this quiet.
She tried to remember when it changed.
When the late nights stopped being occasional… and became routine.
When conversations turned into short replies.
When “I’ll be late” became normal.
There was a time he used to come home early.
Once—just once, he had shown up with flowers for no reason.
Ava couldn’t remember the last time he had looked at her like that.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the fork.
Her mother’s voice echoed faintly in her mind.
You should think about having a child.
And then—
Lily.
“I want a baby sister.”
Ava’s grip loosened.
Would a child change anything?
Her thoughts paused there.
She lifted the fork, taking a small bite.
Sweet.
Soft.
She used to finish it without thinking.
Today, even sweetness felt like too much.
A faint discomfort stirred in her stomach.
Ava frowned slightly.
“It’s just stress,” she murmured.
That had to be it.
Work.
Everything else.
The test had been negative.
So there was no reason to think otherwise.
Maybe I’m just overthinking.
But when had her instincts ever been wrong?
A sudden wave hit.
Stronger this time.
Ava’s breath caught as dizziness blurred her vision.
She blinked hard, steadying herself against the table.
“Okay…”
The room tilted briefly.
Then steadied.
Her heart beat faster now.
That wasn’t normal.
Her gaze dropped to the cake.
She couldn’t finish it.
That unsettled her more than it should have.
She reached for her bag.
“I should go,” she whispered.
As she stood, her balance wavered slightly.
Her hand gripped the chair.
Still.
Just for a second.
Then—
“Leaving already?”
The voice came from behind her.
Ava turned.
He stood a few steps away.
Not in uniform.
Not quite a customer.
Just… there.
Calm.
His gaze moved briefly to her plate, then back to her.
“You didn’t finish it,” he said.
Ava frowned slightly.
“I wasn’t that hungry.”
“You never are.”
That made her look at him properly.
For a second—
Something flickered.
Familiar.
Ava narrowed her eyes slightly.
Have I seen him before?
A brief image flashed in her mind—
A parking lot.
A voice.
A moment she hadn’t paid attention to at the time.
The supermarket.
But the thought slipped before she could hold onto it.
Her head still felt… off.
“What?” she asked lightly, brushing it aside.
“You usually sit there,” he said, nodding toward her seat. “Same spot.”
Ava’s brows pulled together.
“And you order the same thing.”
A small pause.
“You’ve been paying attention?”
“Not intentionally.”
The answer came easily.
Ava studied him.
There was nothing intrusive in his tone.
Nothing forced.
Just… awareness.
“That’s a little strange,” she said.
“Maybe.”
Silence settled between them.
Not uncomfortable.
Just unfamiliar.
Ava glanced back at the untouched cake.
“I usually finish it,” she said quietly.
“You didn’t today.”
Something about that settled deeper than it should have.
Ava straightened slightly.
“I guess I’m just tired.”
His gaze lingered for a moment.
Not invasive.
Just… noticing.
“Then you should rest,” he said.
Simple.
Ava nodded faintly.
“Maybe I will.”
She turned to leave.
“Take care,” he added.
Ava paused briefly.
“Thank you.”
Then she walked out.
He didn’t move immediately.
His gaze lingered on the door for a second longer than necessary.
Outside
The air felt cooler.
But her body didn’t.
She made it to her car, sliding into the seat slowly.
For a moment, she just sat there.
Her hand moved to her abdomen.
The test had been negative.
So why did everything feel… wrong?
Ava leaned back, closing her eyes briefly.
“It’s nothing,” she whispered.
But the words felt weak.
The drive should have been simple.
It wasn’t.
At a stoplight, her vision blurred again.
Slight.
Brief.
But enough.
Her grip tightened on the steering wheel.
That was it.
“Okay… no.”
This wasn’t something to ignore anymore.
She turned the car.
The hospital wasn’t far.
***
Hospital
Everything felt calm.
Too calm.
“Name?” the receptionist asked.
“Ava Laurent Caldwell”
Forms.
Waiting.
Silence.
Ava sat still, her hands clasped tightly together.
Her thoughts circled.
It’s nothing.
It has to be nothing.
The test was negative.
Again.
Again.
Again.
“Mrs. Ava?”
She looked up.
“Come in.”
The room felt smaller than it should have.
Ava sat across from the doctor, her posture straight but tense.
Questions.
Routine.
Then tests.
Time stretched.
Minutes passed.
Or longer.
She couldn’t tell.
The door opened again.
The doctor stepped in, holding the results.
His expression was calm.
“Ava,” he said gently.
Her heart began to pound.
“Congratulations.”
Everything stilled.
“You’re pregnant.”
Silence.
Ava blinked.
Once.
Twice.
The words didn’t settle immediately.
Didn’t make sense.
“But…” she started softly.
“I took a test.”
“It happens,” the doctor replied calmly. “Early results can be inaccurate.”
Pregnant.
The word echoed quietly in her mind.
Ava’s hand moved slowly to her abdomen.
This time—
It felt different.
Real.
Her chest tightened.
This should make things better.
Shouldn’t it?
Ethan would be happy.
Wouldn’t he?
The thought came fragile.
Uncertain.
Another followed.
Or would nothing change?
Ava swallowed.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
The doctor nodded.
More words followed.
Advice.
Next steps.
But Ava barely heard them.
Her mind was somewhere else.
Somewhere between hope—
And something heavier.
Outside
The world looked the same.
Cars passed.
People moved.
Life didn’t pause for her.
Ava stood beside her car.
Not moving.
Her hand rested against her abdomen again.
Pregnant.
A life.
A future.
Her phone buzzed.
Ava didn’t reach for it immediately.
It buzzed again.
Slowly, she picked it up.
Ethan.
A message.
“You’re not home yet. It’s late.”
Ava stared at the screen.
Then slowly—
She lowered her phone.
For the first time in a long while—
Ava didn’t know if she was holding on…
Or slowly letting go.
- Writer
