Chapter 78: Hurt.

Dua’s heart sank, a painful ache spreading through her chest as the doctor’s words settled in. The world around her blurred, her thoughts racing as she grappled with the reality of Steven’s condition. Anxiety intertwined with the love she held for him, the fear of losing him consuming every ounce of her strength.

“Thank you for being honest with me,” she said, her voice trembling but resolute. She knew the road ahead would be steep, but she was determined to face it for the sake of their growing family.

The doctor nodded, empathy evident on his face. "Do take care of yourself, and try not to dwell on this for the sake of your baby," he advised gently.

Dua gave a small, appreciative nod before exiting his office. As she stepped into the bustling hallway of the hospital, anger flared inside her—the realization that Steven had kept this truth from her. She fished her phone from her bag and dialed his number with trembling hands.

“Hello,” Steven answered, his voice light.

“Where the hell are you?” she asked, her tone sharp and tight with fury.

“Warehouse,” he replied, sensing the tension.

“Good. I want you home right now,” she demanded, the words spilling out like an uncontrollable flood.

“Why? Don’t you have classes today?” he asked, concern lacing his voice, but she abruptly hung up on him.

Within the hour, she arrived home to find Steven focused on his laptop in the living room. He looked up, greeting her with a smile that faltered as he caught sight of her angry expression.

“Hi,” he said, confusion crossing his face.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, her voice steady yet filled with an underlying tension.

“Tell you what?” Steven rose from the couch, stepping closer to her.

“How long do you have left to live?” she said, her heart racing.

“About three months,” he replied, trying to pull her into an embrace, but she stepped back, a scoff escaping her lips.

“You're still lying to me” Bitterness dripped from her words.

“Why would I lie about this?” Steven searched her eyes, hurt and bewilderment evident.

"Shut the fuck up!" she yelled, tears shimmering in her eyes. "How dare you lie to me even now?!"

Steven stood frozen, confusion etched on his face.

"You have only a week left to live," Dua interjected, her voice trembling as she broke the news.

Panic washed over Steven, his heart pounding at the harsh reality she had just laid bare.

"I can explain..." he started, desperate to find the right words.

"Don’t!" she interjected sharply. "When were you going to tell me? When?"

“Was it your plan to let me wake up one day and find you gone, or to let your death hit me like a brick wall?” Her voice cracked under the weight of her anguish.

“Do you even love me at all?” she demanded, her gaze piercing into him.

"I do, Dua. That's why I kept the truth from you. I didn’t want to hurt you," he explained, the regret heavy in his voice.

"There's no way to avoid hurt!" she yelled back, her voice raw. "You should have told me the truth," she said in a whisper, the fierceness fading to despair.

“Dua…” He reached out to touch her, but she stepped back, her defiance hardening.

“Don’t you dare come near me,” she warned coldly, tears spilling down her cheeks, framing the anguish on her face.

Steven’s heart shattered at the sight of her tears. This was the very outcome he had desperately tried to prevent. He clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging into his palms as he battled with the rising physical and emotional agony.

Dua turned and stormed out of the living room, her fury driving her footsteps, but a sharp vibration on the floor stopped her in her tracks. She hesitated, silently praying it wasn’t what she feared, but dread filled her when she turned—Steven had collapsed to the floor.

Instinct kicked in, and she rushed to him, her hands trembling as she pressed against his still body. "Pills," she cried out, recalling his medication. She attempted to rise to fetch them, but he grabbed her wrist weakly, stopping her.

"Don’t stress... yourself and the baby," he managed to gasp, his breath shallow.

“Shut up!” Dua lashed out, her voice tremulous with anger and fear. She wrenched herself free from his tight grip, her heart racing as she dashed from the living room to the sanctuary of the bedroom. The momentary silence weighed heavily on her as the shadows of their reality loomed large.

Within seconds, she sprinted back into the living room. Kneeling beside him, she gently laid his head on her legs, a desperate attempt to shield him from the world. As she administered the medicine, her hands trembled, a glass of water shaking in her grip. Steven’s eyes, a haunting shade of crimson, fought to stay open as he battled for breath. His hand quivered, reaching out to touch her face—fragile as a whisper.

“Dua...” he rasped, his voice barely breaking through the fog of his struggle.

She caught his hand, her grip firm yet tender, guiding it to her cheek, where his fingers brushed against her tears. “I... I’m... sorry,” he managed, sorrow etched in every syllable.

“You don’t need to apologize,” Dua implored, her voice thick with emotion. “Just focus on breathing.”

But the effort seemed futile as his breath came in short, sharp gasps. “My time is near... the attacks are worse now,” he stammered, urgency lacing each word.

“Please, Steven... just be quiet,” Dua cried, the desperation spilling from her heart.

“N-no... They say even with a week left... any attack could... could claim my life,” he gasped, each word a battle unto itself.

“No... no!” Dua shook her head fiercely, as if denying the very air around them. “The curse expires in a week. You won’t die now; you can't!”

“I... I love you,” he whispered, pouring every ounce of strength into those three precious words, ensuring she heard him loud and clear despite the fading light in his eyes.

As his hand slipped from her face, his eyelids fluttered shut, and his body became still—slipping into the dark abyss of unconsciousness.

Dua’s heart shattered in that moment, the gravity of his words echoing even as silence enveloped them. She cradled his head in her lap, her tears flowing like a river, an earnest prayer for Steven going on in her heart as her she was too pained to move her mouth, hoping hard that his eyes would flutter open again.