Chapter 2: Flashbacks From The Past
1298 Words
While Phoebe waited in the hospital’s lobby, Ariana sat nervously in the doctor’s office. It had that distinct sterile antiseptic smell associated with hospitals in the air. Her fingers were tightly laced together, dampening her palms with sweat despite the air conditioner in the room.
The door to the office opened, and the doctor came in with some files in hand.
“Good afternoon, Mrs Whitmore.”
“Good afternoon, Doctor.”
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long?”
She forced a smile. “Of course not, I just got in not too long ago.”
“Oh, good.” He adjusted his glasses and scanned through the files, bringing out one.
He cleared his throat and thrust the file to Ariana. “Here are your test results.”
Her heart hammered against her chest as she looked at the file like it were a death sentence. She was afraid to see what was in it. Afraid that her worst fears, her secret fears, might be true.
“Is it…bad news?” she asked, still afraid to open it.
The doctor leaned forward, his expression grim, as he intertwined his hands together.
“I know that look, doctor,” she croaked, “It’s bad…isn’t it?”
He exhaled slowly. “Due to your…history…” he hesitated, “The multiple abortions have left your womb scarred and fragile, making you unable to carry a pregnancy to term. That also explains the two miscarriages you’ve had.”
Ariana's trembling fingers dug into her skirt. The words hit harder than she expected. She was crushed.
Scarred. Fragile. Empty.
“So…there’s no hope for me?” she whispered.
“All hope is not lost. On the good side, you’ve got quality eggs, and you can opt for an IVF or go through surrogacy.”
“How do I do that without my husband finding out?”
“Mmm…at this point, he has to be involved.”
“No,” she cut in sharply. “You’re a doctor! There has to be another way. I don’t want my husband involved in this. Not yet.”
His shoulders stiffened. “There is another option…”
“What is it?” she asked eagerly.
“Treatment. But I must let you know…it won’t be an easy or fast route to get what you want…”
“I’m willing to give it a try,” she cut in, desperate.
He nodded his head. “Very well. We can commence treatment by next Wednesday.”
Ariana reached into her bag and took out an envelope containing cash which she handed over to the doctor. “Thank you, Doctor. For your discretion—as always.
He accepted it with a polite smile. “It’s part of our job. Be rest assured, everything remains here.”
“See you at our next appointment.”
“See you soon, Mrs Whitmore.”
She rose, tucked the file into her bag, and left the office.
Phoebe saw her coming and stood up. “So…how did it go?”
“It went well,” she responded flatly.
Phoebe folded her arms, looking skeptical.
Ariana sighed. “OK, OK. It’s a hormonal imbalance. He prescribed some drugs for me and connected me to a dietitian to create a new diet plan for me.”
Phoebe took her hand in her arms gently. “We’ll get through this, OK?”
She nodded. “Of course.”
“Still up for drinks?”
“I guess I’ll pass.”
“It’s okay…drinks can wait.”
They left together, but the ride back was mostly quiet. Ariana had lied to Phoebe, believing it was for the best. The fewer people who knew about it, the better for her. She couldn’t risk Denzel knowing about it, lest the reckless way she once lived her life surfaces and everything she had done to be in his life goes down the drain.
As she drove, she had flashbacks of the past. She remembered the cold bloody clinic halls and the faces she never let herself grieve for, the nightlife she enjoyed as she indulged in drugs and alcohol. But all that was buried beneath the polished life she wore now—it all belonged to her past—when she was young and naive. Now she’s married, more aware, and has come so far to let anything snatch the life of luxury she now enjoys.
“Yeah…my past does not define me,” she murmured under her breath.
“What?” Phoebe asked.
“Huh? Nothing…” she shook her head.
“You good?”
She forced a smile. “Yeah, sure.”
She dropped Phoebe off at her family’s penthouse and returned to the mansion. The staff carried out their duties quietly, and she noticed Denzel wasn’t home yet. She was unclasping her necklace when her phone rang.
It was Denzel.
She hesitated a bit before she finally picked up.
“Hey, sweetheart, how are you?” came his voice.
“Hi, honey. I’m doing great. And you?”
“I’m good. Just checking in. And… I’ll be coming home late tonight, so you can have dinner without me, OK?”
“Again?” she whined.
“Yes, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll be home in time for dinner tomorrow.”
“Okay. Take care of yourself.”
“Always. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
That night she ate alone, then went to bed, clinging to her secret like a shield.
The next morning, she woke up to a kiss on her forehead. Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw her husband smiling down at her. His morning appearance was always breathtaking.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” he said warmly.
“Good morning, my love.” She smiled back. “When did you come in?”
“Pretty late. You were sleeping so peacefully, and I didn’t want to wake you up.”
She touched his cheek. “Aw, you’re the sweetest.”
“Come on, I’ve asked the chef to make your favorite for breakfast.”
They sat at the table enjoying their meal when Ariana's phone rang. The true caller ID showed it was Phoenix Barret, but she ignored it.
Denzel frowned. “Why aren’t you answering?”
It’s nothing,” she shrugged.
“It’s not nothing if the person keeps calling repeatedly.”
Just then the phone rang out again and she made no move to answer it.
Denzel looked at her squarely. “Ariana?”
“OK, OK. It’s just some random girl who retrieved my bag from some petty thieves. She refused to take money as a thank-you token and somehow made me promise to help her get a job instead.”
Denzel creased his brows worriedly. “And you’re just telling me now? Did you get hurt?”
“No love, I’m fine.”
He sighed in relief. “I’m glad you didn’t get hurt. But where were you when this happened? And I’ll assume you didn’t go with the security I assigned to you?”
She froze. She had not expected him to ask that question.
“Ariana?” he called gently. “I just asked you a question.”
“Well…um… I just happened to be out of town.”
“Out of town. Doing what?”
“I… I was with Phoebe…and she…she had something to pick up. So I offered to take her.”
“Then why didn’t you go with your security?” he pressed.
“Denzel, come on…it was supposed to be quick, you know. Just…going out and coming in…that’s…that’s all,” she stammered.
Denzel studied her closely, squinting his eyes. “Why are you stuttering? You’re not hiding anything from me, are you?”
- Writer
