"Congratulations! You are two months pregnant," the doctor remarked.
"Pre…gnat?"
"Yes,"
Mirabelle's initial disbelief transformed into a nervous chuckle, each laugh echoing louder in the quiet room. Laughter turned to tears, a cascade of emotions escaping her grasp. With concern, the doctor observed her.
"Are you okay?" She enquired.
Okay? The word hung in the air, a cruel reminder of him. How on earth could she be okay? Just two months prior, the mere notion of becoming pregnant would have brought her immense delight and the prospect of fresh starts. Now, the room felt colder, and the joy of being a mother was tainted by the haunting memories of that moment.
"If only…" she began, her voice trailing off. If only she hadn't walked in at that moment, maybe she'd still be with him. She would have run towards him and told him that she was pregnant; he would smile at her and not say a word like he normally does. Perhaps they will have a celebration with the celebrities or with her family.
He had seemed perfect, always there for her, listening to her concerns. Whatever she wanted, he provided; no questions were asked. All that care is a facade, a lie.
"I only got married to her because of her dying sister's wish."
The weight of that sentence echoed in her mind. The revelation played repeatedly, disrupting her thoughts even when she slept or worked. She wished it were all a dream, a passing nightmare she could wake up from.
She hates the fact that she is already resenting her dying sister. If her sister hadn't made a promise to him when she was dying, she doubted he would have gotten married to her.
Beep
Mirabelle opened her bag, retrieving her phone.
A text message from him flashed on the screen.
"Have you eaten? Today I ate rice. Tomorrow, I will be going on a business trip, and I won't be able to take your call, so if you need anything, you can call my manager. Don't work too hard and forget to eat. Take care of yourself."
While reading the message, Mirabelle's thumb was hovering over the delete button.
Why does she keep reading the text message he sent? She always wondered. What was she expecting from him? As always, he is still treating her like a child.
She is not a child; she is a 22-year-old woman who has been doing acting.
But at the end of the day, it was no surprise to her; he had always been sending messages to her ever since they got divorced.
He will always ask her what she has been doing today, whether she has eaten or not. He texted her constantly, even though she never responded.
"Mirabelle," the doctor called her out.
Mirabelle uses her handkerchief to wipe the tears from her face. The soft fabric grazed her cheeks.
"I am sorry for the way I reacted," she said in a pleading voice. The vulnerability in her tone echoed against the quiet wall.
"You don't need to apologize," the doctor said, her voice carrying a hint of compassion. "I see a lot of this all the time."
"Thank you," she said. "Is that all? I want to leave now," the doctor nodded.
"You need to make an appointment to meet with me again at the front desk."
Mirabelle's heart sank, realizing that the child in her womb was real.
"Okay," she mumbled, her hand clutching the strap of her bag. With a heavy sigh, she took her bag and left the office room. The door closed behind her with a soft click.
"I hope she is alright," the doctor whispered to herself, her gaze lingering on the closed door.
Mirabelle looked at the waiting room, her eyes frantically searching for someone. The faces of strangers blurred as her mind raced. A familiar voice interrupted her.
"Mirabelle," a voice said.
Mirabelle looked back and saw her best friend, Lucy, who accompanied her to the hospital. Lucy and Mirabelle have been friends since way back and have always supported each other.
"Where have you been? have been looking for you," Mirabelle questioned.
"I went to buy food," Lucy replied, raising the food bag. "You were taking so long, and I was very hungry."
Mirabelle sighed, a subtle smile playing on her lips.
"You are always hungry," Mirabelle teased. "Let's go," she added.
Before she went home, she went to the front desk to make an appointment. Lucy went to get her car from the parking lot. Mirabelle doesn't want to think about the child now or what she is going to do from now on; she just wants to pass today, and then when tomorrow comes, she can think about it.
Minutes later, Lucy pulled her car to the front of the hospital. Mirabelle lost in thought, barely noticed. Lucy horned to her, jolting Mirabelle out of her thought. She entered the car, and Lucy started driving.
"What did the doctor say?" Lucy Inquired.
"The doctor said I am two months pregnant," she said, as she rest her head on the window.
The car momentarily swayed out of its lane. The brake pedal responded with abrupt pressure, causing a jolt in the vehicle's motion.
"Lucy, do you want to kill me?" Mirabelle exclaimed, as her face coming forward due to the abrupt stop on the road.
"I am sorry, I was just surprised," Lucy apologized, as she started to drive again.
"What are you surprised for?"
"Why won't I be surprised?" she said. "You are pregnant when both of you just divorced."
"Can...we not talk about him?"
"Why?" Lucy questioned. "You haven't told me why the both of you got divorced yet, and when I asked him, he didn't say anything."
Mirabelle immediately have a blank stare as she looked at Lucy.
"What did you just say?"
"I said you haven't told me why the both of you get divorced."
"Not that one, the one you said after that,"
"Is it when I asked him?"
"Why did you do that?"
"Why won't I do that?" She said in defense, "You didn't tell me why the both of you got divorced, and you don't want to hear his name, so I have to ask him."
"Even if I did not tell you, shouldn't you take my word for it and not ask him?"
"You are living with me," Lucy asserted. "Don't I have the right to ask you why both of you break up?"
"If you want to know that badly, I will tell you," Mirabelle said, as she lay her back on the car seat. "He doesn't love me, so we divorce."
Lucy burst into laughter.
"Why are you laughing?"
"If he doesn't love you, how come you are pregnant for him?"
"It is complicated,"
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