"Zara, let's go to the hospital today for your prenatal check-up. I'll take you myself." His eyes searched mine with uncharacteristic intensity.
My hand instinctively rested on my flat stomach. The weight of the truth I hadn't shared pressed heavily on me. This was my chance to tell him that the baby was gone, that I had chosen to end it.
But under his expectant gaze, I hesitated. "Okay," I said softly, my voice barely audible.
When we arrived at the hospital, the air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of antiseptic and blooming jasmine from nearby planters. Tristan helped me out of the car and led me to a bench just inside the entrance. His touch, once warm and reassuring, felt mechanical now—a practiced gesture devoid of real connection.
"Wait here. I'll go make the arrangements," he said, crouching down to meet my gaze. He smiled, the corners of his mouth pulling tight as if trying to reassure himself more than me.
Through the hospital's glass doors, I saw her—Anya. She was waving at Tristan with both hands, her face lit up like a child's on Christmas morning.
Tristan's composure cracked for a split second, but he quickly recovered, turning back to me briefly. "Stay put," he murmured. Then, without hesitation, he sprinted to her.
From my seat, I watched them through the glass. Tristan enveloped her in a tight embrace, holding her as if she were the most precious thing in his world. Anya clung to him, sobbing dramatically, her voice just audible through the door.
"Tristan, I'm pregnant—with our child. Our child!" Her words rang out like a gunshot in the quiet hospital corridor, shattering the fragile bubble of denial I had built around myself.
Tristan froze, his body stiffening as he pulled back to look at her. His expression was a chaotic mix of shock and disbelief, but his hands instinctively moved to her shoulders, steadying her.
"Anya…" His voice cracked, betraying his usual calm.
Tears streaked down her flushed cheeks, but her sobs quickly turned into triumphant laughter as she pulled out her phone and snapped a photo of them together. Seconds later, I saw her tap furiously and then a notification lit up my own screen.
Anya had posted the photo, captioned simply: [Baby on board!]
Tristan frowned, his jaw tightening. "Are you out of your mind?" he hissed, lowering his voice. "The employees will see this!"