--
1249 Words
CHAPTER ONE — The Girl Who Lived in Quiet Rooms
The Lévant Heart Institute was always cold in the mornings, the kind of cold that smelled faintly of metal, antiseptics, and sleeplessness. Dr. Matteo Lévant was used to it. He had walked these halls since he was twenty-seven, now in his early thirties, carrying a reputation for precision, calm, and a pair of eyes that rarely betrayed emotion.
But on the morning that would change his life, he paused at Room 314.
He didn’t know why.
Maybe it was the silence.
Maybe it was the way the nurses whispered outside the door.
Or maybe it was something else — something he would only understand much later.
Inside the room lay Elara Voss, a thin, pale young woman of twenty-four. She looked small against the white pillows, as if the bed were too large for someone so delicate.
She had been admitted after another collapse.
Another episode.
Another reminder of the condition that had shaped her entire life.
Her medical file was thick, yet her experiences were few.
She had never gone to school.
Never played outside with other children.
Never ran, never danced.
Her world had always been painted in soft colors and quiet breaths.
When Matteo walked in, she opened her eyes slowly, as if waking from a dream she didn’t want to leave.
“You’re Dr. Matteo,” she whispered with a voice that sounded like wind slipping through old curtains.
“You treated me last time.”
Her memory surprised him.
“I did,” he said gently. “And I’ll be taking care of you again.”
She nodded, and in that small motion was a lifetime of acceptance — not defeat, but familiarity with limitations no child should have grown up with.
For a moment, Matteo forgot he was a doctor.
He simply saw a young woman who had lived too much in the shadows.
He didn’t know that this was the first thread of attachment.
He didn’t know that years later, standing at her grave, he would remember this quiet morning more vividly than his own achievements.
For now, he only knew that Elara Voss needed help.
And he would give it — without knowing how deeply her presence would carve itself into his soul.
---
CHAPTER TWO — A Fragile Routine
Elara stayed at the Institute for weeks, and a pattern formed — one so gentle yet so persistent that Matteo found himself adjusting his schedule around it.
Every morning, she sat by the window, wrapped in a soft blanket.
She didn’t look outside because she dreamed of sunlight.
She looked outside because it reminded her the world existed.
Matteo would come in with his tablet, ready to check her vitals and medication.
But their check-ups slowly became conversations.
Not long, not loud — Elara tired easily — but meaningful.
She told him about the books she read: stories of places she would never see, cities she imagined only through words.
She told him she liked listening to the sound of rain because it made her feel less alone.
She told him she had stopped wishing for a normal life long ago.
Instead, she wished for small days — days with no pain, days where the world felt a little brighter.
And Matteo, who had always kept a solid wall between himself and his patients, felt something dangerous growing:
He cared.
More than he should.
He admired her strength.
He admired her calmness.
And sometimes, when he wasn’t prepared for it, he admired the quiet, soft hope she carried — hope that hadn’t been crushed despite a lifetime of limitations.
One morning, a nurse whispered to him:
“She smiles more when you’re around.”
He didn’t reply.
But that night, alone in his office, he found himself thinking about Room 314 long after his shift ended.
---
CHAPTER THREE — The Diagnosis That Shaped Their Fate
After multiple tests, scans, and long discussions with senior specialists, the truth lay clear:
Elara’s condition — a restrictive, worsening heart disorder — was growing heavier on her body.
Not suddenly.
Not dangerously yet.
But steadily.
Her heart was tiring.
Her stamina decreasing further.
And though she could still live years, her future was tightening around her like invisible vines.
Matteo sat beside her bed as he explained the results.
He spoke slowly, choosing each word like a fragile ornament.
Elara simply listened.
She had become an expert at hearing bad news with grace.
“So,” she said softly when he finished, “my time is… more limited than before?”
Matteo swallowed.
“Yes.”
She didn’t cry.
She didn’t tremble.
Instead, she looked out the window, the sky reflected in her still eyes.
“I always knew my life would be shorter than other people’s,” she murmured. “But I wanted… something. Before it ends.”
It was the first time she hinted at the wish that would one day change everything.
Matteo didn’t ask.
Not yet.
But he felt the shift — the beginning of a future he never imagined becoming part of.
---
CHAPTER FOUR — The Wish That Should Have Been Impossible
Days passed.
Then weeks.
Elara grew stronger in some moments, weaker in others, but always steady, always gentle.
And Matteo found himself spending too much time near her door.
Checking on her even when no medical reason demanded it.
Elara, who had lived twenty-four years without a friend her age, found in him something she had never experienced:
A presence that made her feel alive.
One quiet evening, the sun setting in soft orange behind the hospital, she told him the truth.
“I want to be a mother.”
Matteo froze.
Elara continued, though her voice trembled with both fear and bravery.
“I’ve never had a normal life, Dr. Matteo. But before my time runs out, I want to leave something behind. A piece of me… someone who carries my heart forward.”
He wanted to say no.
He wanted to remind her of the risks.
But her eyes held a calm that silenced him.
A calm that said she had thought about this for years.
A calm that would one day break his heart.
---
CHAPTER FIVE — The Line He Never Wanted to Cross
Elara’s wish wasn’t impulsive.
It wasn’t childish.
It was the most sincere thing she had ever admitted.
And it terrified Matteo.
Doctors were not meant to love patients.
They were not meant to carry personal responsibility for someone’s dreams.
They were not meant to feel the weight of a choice like this.
But he did.
Because somewhere between the soft conversations and the long evenings by her bedside, he had fallen in love with her — quietly, deeply, and unwillingly.
He didn’t confess.
Not yet.
But he couldn’t hide his emotions each time he looked at her.
When he finally spoke, it was barely above a whisper.
“Elara… the risk is high.”
“I know.”
“It could cost your life.”
“I know,” she said again, her voice steady. “But if my life will end either way… let it end with purpose.”
Those words broke something inside him.
A decision began forming — painful, impossible, yet inevitable.
A decision that would lead to the birth of Ophelia,
and the death of the only woman he ever loved.
A decision that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
---
- Writer
