Chapter 1:
I woke up to the familiar aroma of coffee filling the room, a scent that always comforted me, like a sign that the day was going to start off right.
Lu was beside me, holding a tray with two mugs and a smile that, to anyone else, might have seemed serene, but I could see the exhaustion he was trying to hide.
"Good morning, love," he said, placing the tray on the bed and kissing my forehead. I took the mug he offered me, feeling the warmth spread through my hands. The coffee was simple, but it tasted like comfort. Mine, sweet just the way I liked it; his, strong and unsweetened, as usual.
"You're amazing," I murmured, taking a sip. He sat down next to me, and we remained silent, watching the soft morning light stream through the window, illuminating our small apartment. The walls were covered with photos of us, moments of happiness frozen in time.
Today, Lu seemed especially excited, the sparkle in his eyes revealing that he had something on his mind.
"I've been thinking..." he began, with that light tone he used when he was about to share an idea he knew would make me smile. "If we tighten our belts a little, I think we can take that big step..."
My heart warmed, but soon concern followed. The idea of having a child had always been our dream, something that kept us together on the toughest nights. But now, with the weight of what we didn't have the courage to say, the dream seemed to have turned into a burden.
"That would be wonderful!" I replied, jumping into his arms and hugging him tightly. The warmth of his body was comforting. But as I melted into his embrace, a shadow crept into my thoughts.
The silence that followed was heavier than usual, broken only by the soft whisper of the fan spinning in the corner of the room.
He pulled away slightly, his expression changing. Our eyes met, and in that moment, words became unnecessary. He understood what I couldn’t say.
His eyes, once so full of life, began to wander over my face, as if he were memorizing every detail. He traced the soft freckles that spread across my cheeks and the shadows under my eyes, a result of the restless night I had.
With a delicate gesture, he slid the back of his fingers along my cheek, the 'Lord of the Rings' ring—a symbol of our love and my passion for the saga—reflecting the soft light of the room.
That touch enveloped me in a wave of warmth and security. In that instant, the world outside ceased to exist. I held his hand, intertwining our fingers, feeling the cool metal against my skin, and rested my face against it, closing my eyes, allowing myself just to feel.
I wished I could stay there forever...
When I opened my eyes, Lu was still watching me with the same intensity, but there was something different in his gaze, almost... worried.
"You're going to be an amazing mother, you know that? I can see it in everything you do," he said, with a softness that deeply touched me, as a light but restrained smile appeared on his lips.
In that moment, I once again felt the determination I had always admired in Lu. His optimism, which sometimes seemed to escape reality, was still what gave me the strength to believe that, somehow, everything would be okay.
He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, the irritating sound of the phone broke the silence. Lu sighed, throwing his head back for a brief moment, as if the ring had pulled him out of a distant thought.
"I need to take this," he said, getting up a little quicker than usual. I watched as he walked over to the dresser, picking up the phone with a certain heaviness in his movements.
As he walked away to answer, a sense of unease began to grow within me. Something about the way he reacted to the phone seemed different. It wasn’t just his usual impatience but something more, a hidden urgency.
He was wearing one of his rock band t-shirts, one of his favorites for sleeping. Lu loved collecting these shirts, getting a new one at every concert we went to together. Today, it was Led Zeppelin. The faded letters on the shirt were a silent reminder of so many fun nights we had shared.
I took the opportunity to get up as well, still holding the coffee mug, which now seemed more like a distraction than a necessity.
I walked over to the wall of photos, gently running my fingers over an image of us on our wedding day, exactly four years ago. In the photo, we were radiant, our wide smiles capturing the promise of a life full of joy and shared dreams.
"Remember what we promised that day?" I asked, more to myself than to him, as nostalgia tightened my chest.
The door closed softly behind me, and the last word hung in the air, unanswered. Lucas had stepped out to take the call, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I turned my gaze to the mirror, looking at my reflection with a new perspective. My brown hair fell in soft waves over my shoulders, slightly tousled, as if reflecting the disarray of my emotions.
I noticed the faint freckles scattered across my cheeks as I ran my hand through my hair, trying to straighten it without much effort.
As I looked at myself, a thought cut through me like a cold blade: Does he really believe I can still achieve my dream of becoming a mother? Does he know that... I’m going to die?
These words echoed in my mind, pulling me back to that cruel reality I was desperately trying to keep at bay.
The rare disease that was consuming me was a constant presence, a shadow that stretched over us, over the future we once imagined.
Lu always talked about the future with a forced smile and hopeful words. He tried to maintain a facade of strength, but deep down, I knew he was struggling not to accept the truth.
The truth was that we would never have children, never see our little house with the triangular roof, and the "forever" in our story... already had its ending written.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
I let out a sigh, trying to gather strength I didn’t even know I had. I didn’t want him to see how scared I was. But it was inevitable, and the sadness of our situation weighed on my heart like an anchor, dragging me down.
I smiled at my reflection, a melancholic smile, acknowledging the features that made me who I was and the uncertainties I carried. There was nothing extraordinary there, just the simplicity of who I was... and who I feared to lose.
I was jolted out of my thoughts when I heard the door open softly. Lu walked in, closing the door behind him with a nearly imperceptible click.
His steps were firm, but there was something strange about his movement, a more careful rhythm, as if he were trying not to draw attention to himself.
"Who was it?" I asked, trying to keep my tone casual as I watched him walk over to the wardrobe.
Lu hesitated for a brief moment, just long enough for me to notice.
He opened the wardrobe door, took out a shirt, and while examining it as if seeing it for the first time, he replied:
"Oh, it was just a wrong number. Someone called the wrong number," His voice sounded normal, but there was a restrained quality to it, as if he were avoiding revealing something.
"Those wrong number calls..." I murmured, trying to pick up on any signals in his behavior. He didn’t respond, just started unbuttoning his t-shirt with a care that seemed unnecessary.
I watched him in silence, noticing how his fingers, usually so nimble, were now moving deliberately slowly, almost as if he were lost in thought.
"Where was the call from?" I pressed, this time with a more curious tone, but still keeping the lightness that the situation required.
Lucas finally looked at me, his eyes meeting mine for a brief second before returning to focus on the buttons of the shirt he had just taken off.
"I don’t know, Sofia. I didn’t recognize the number," he said, shrugging as if trying to downplay whatever it was.
I gave a half-smile, approaching him to help button the black casual shirt he had chosen. It was one of his favorites and matched perfectly with his rocker style.
He accepted my help in silence, his eyes fixed on some distant point, as if he were somewhere else.
When I finished buttoning his shirt, he stepped back a little and adjusted the collar, looking at himself in the mirror.
"I’m going to wear this one today," he murmured, more to himself than to me.
He suddenly turned around, pulling me into an unexpected and intense kiss. The gesture caught me off guard, and before I could process it, he pulled away slightly, still holding my face between his hands.
There was an urgency in the way he looked at me, something that made my heart race, but not in a comfortable way.
"Four years ago today, I made the best decision of my life," he said, with a smile that seemed slightly forced. "Now go get ready, we’re running late."
The kiss and his words left me momentarily speechless, as if something invisible was hanging between us.
I nodded slowly, still trying to make sense of what was happening.
I turned to go get dressed, feeling a gentle slap on my butt, followed by the laugh I loved so much.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Lu taking off his shirt, flashing a carefree smile as he headed for the bathroom. But even in that smile, there was something different, a shadow I couldn’t identify.
At the wardrobe, I chose an outfit automatically, my mind still stuck in the strangeness of that morning.
My eyes landed on the shelf where I kept my collection of art books. Ever since I was little, I had always loved drawing and painting. There was something therapeutic about losing myself in colors and shapes, but lately, my energy for that had vanished, along with so many other dreams.
As I got dressed, I heard the sound of the shower being turned on. An idea crossed my mind, bringing a small smile to my face. I had a sudden urge to go to him, to turn that shower into something lighter, more intimate, in an attempt to dispel the strangeness surrounding our morning.
I walked toward the bathroom, removing my clothes along the way. But as I walked, an unsettling feeling hit me, almost like a warning. Something was wrong, but I couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
I entered the bathroom silently, finding Lu under the shower, the water cascading over his shoulders while he kept his eyes closed.
His black hair, now soaked, clung to his forehead, and the contrast with his fair, though not quite pale, skin made him look like a sculpture carved by the soft light streaming through the window.
I approached him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I felt his body flinch slightly before relaxing, followed by a small laugh.
"Hey, intruder!" he teased, turning to embrace me. His brown eyes, usually so full of energy, reflected a different intensity in that moment, something that made me hesitate for a fraction of a second before surrendering to the kiss.
For a moment, it felt as though all our worries had been washed away with the water streaming over us.
We were there, in our own world, where nothing else mattered but the warmth of our bodies and the comforting sensation of being together.
After some time, the shower turned into a playful moment, with Lu trying to drench my hair while I laughed and dodged, letting the soap bubbles wash away the tension of the moment.
When we finally turned off the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist, revealing the tattoos that marked his arms. One of them, on his left wrist, read "let it burn" in thin letters, a reminder of simpler and bolder times.
He tossed me a towel, which I caught before it hit the ground, and smiled with that mischievous expression that always made me smile back, even when I didn’t want to.
"Come on, we have a whole day ahead of us," he said, leaving a quick kiss on my forehead before walking out of the bathroom.
As I dried off, I felt a slight sense of relief. Our routine, our little ritual of intimacy, seemed to have restored normalcy. But as much as I wanted to believe in the normalcy of that morning, a persistent anxiety still made me doubt.
In the bedroom, I dressed in silence, my thoughts still lingering on that fleeting moment when he had seemed distant, aloof, even while being so close. Something about his posture, his gaze, was different, and it unsettled me in a way I couldn’t ignore.
As I was putting on my dress, I heard him moving around in the wardrobe. He dressed in the black casual shirt he had chosen earlier, a piece that matched perfectly with his rocker style, and black pants that made him look even more imposing.
I watched him in the mirror’s reflection as he styled his hair with quick, impatient movements, as if he were trying to resolve something in his mind that he didn’t want to share with me.
"Lu?" I ventured, my voice sounding almost like a whisper.
"Damn hair, it won't behave!" he replied, turning to me with a calm smile.
"Hey, relax, it’s okay. It seems like you’re dealing with more than just your hair today," I replied, trying to hide my concern.
He chuckled softly, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
"Can we go?" he finally asked, turning to face me, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that made me question everything that had happened that morning.
I nodded, still trying to convince myself that everything was normal. "Yes, let’s go."
Lucas left the bedroom, but not without giving me one last look that sent chills down my spine. That expression... it wasn’t one of love, but of a silent farewell, as if something was about to end.
I followed him shortly after, closing the door behind us. The sound of the door clicking shut echoed in the silence, reverberating within me.
As we stepped outside, a fresh breeze touched my face, and I noticed a butterfly fluttering between us, its delicate wings dancing in the sunlight.
"Isn’t it beautiful?" I said, trying to keep things light as we walked side by side down the corridor.
I glanced at him, but he was already watching me out of the corner of his eye, as if studying my reaction. "Yes," he responded, but the tone of his voice was mechanical, as if he were responding automatically, without really paying attention.
I noticed that his skin, usually vibrant, looked paler in the sunlight that flooded the corridor. And there was something about his posture that seemed tense, as if he were carrying an invisible weight.
As we walked together, that uncomfortable feeling persisted, an anxiety that refused to disappear. It was as if, behind the apparent tranquility, there was something deeply wrong, something he was hiding from me.
Later, I’ll know everything.
But not today.
Today marks four years of marriage, and we’re going to have an amazing day... or at least, that’s what I thought...