40

40
Camille

I felt groggy, as if I were under the effect of some powerful medicine, and maybe I was, since I was in a hospital and had no idea why. My head was spinning in dizzying circles as I tried to piece together what had happened. My memories were fragmented—sharp pain in my stomach, Carmen holding me tightly, and then, suddenly, the cold, white hallways of a hospital.

In my mind, the pain and the blood could only mean one thing: my period. Sometimes my PMS was so bad that I could barely stand, and maybe this was just an extreme episode. But then why would Carmen drag me to a hospital for something so common? This didn't make sense.

My eyes wandered around the room. It was small, lit by the soft light that slipped through the half-closed curtains. The characteristic smell of a hospital—a mix of cleaning products and something metallic—seemed to permeate the air. The rhythmic beep of machines around me filled the silence, a constant reminder of where I was.

I had no idea how much time had passed. The clock on the wall seemed to be frozen. I waited. Waited for someone to come through the door—a doctor, a nurse, anyone who could tell me what was going on. But no one came. Time dragged on, and at some point, exhaustion overtook me. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up, I almost had a heart attack seeing Suzu standing by my bed, staring at me.

— For God's sake, Suzu! — I muttered, trying to calm my racing breath.

She simply raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she always did when she had something serious to say. I was about to ask her to call a doctor or at least explain what was going on, but she was faster.

— You were pregnant and lost the baby — she shot out, without any preamble.

The words hit me like a punch to the stomach. I furrowed my brow, confused.

— What? — My voice came out louder than I expected, full of disbelief. — Pregnant? No, I would know if I were pregnant.

Suzu shrugged, walking over to the window and gently pulling the curtain aside to peek outside.

— From what I understand, Carmen suspected. She took a test without you knowing, and it came back positive. Then she told Javier. They both knew.

My mind started to whirl, trying to process those words. The pieces started to fit together, and suddenly, everything made sense. Carmen's excessive care, Javier drunk and euphoric, talking about plans for a "future baby." They knew. Damn it, they knew!

My hands trembled as I gripped the sheets tightly.

— I was pregnant... — I murmured to myself, but Suzu heard.

— It wasn't exactly a baby yet — she replied, her voice neutral, almost cold. — According to the doctor, it was a fetus. So, I’m not sure if I should offer my condolences or arrange a farewell ceremony.

I felt my stomach turn at her words. Suzu seemed to have a peculiar way of handling delicate situations, but that was insensitive, even by her standards.

— But, if you want, I can arrange something simple — she continued, as if she hadn’t noticed my shocked expression. — I’ll let your family know, we can pick flowers...

— Suzu, stop — I interrupted, my voice low and trembling. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to block out the wave of sadness that was overwhelming me.

My chest felt like it weighed a ton, and only then did I realize what was happening. I was crying. The tears ran hot down my face, and I couldn’t stop them.

I was sad.

Sad for a baby I never even knew existed.

— I want to be alone — I suddenly said, my voice hoarse, almost inaudible.

Suzu stopped mid-sentence, stared at me for a few seconds, and without saying another word, left the room.

As soon as the door closed, I let the tears flow freely. The knot in my throat loosened, and the crying turned into muffled sobs. I don’t know how long I stayed there, hugging myself, trying to understand the emptiness that seemed to have settled inside me.

I had been pregnant.

The phrase echoed in my mind like a mantra, growing more painful with each repetition. I felt a mix of emotions I couldn’t decipher. Sadness, guilt, confusion. I tried to convince myself that I couldn’t miss something I barely knew existed, but it didn’t help. The pain was there, deep, like an open wound.

Eventually, my sobs subsided, and exhaustion took over. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, but sleep didn’t come. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Javier smiling, drunk, talking about a future baby that would now never exist.

The door opened quietly, and I expected it to be Suzu, but it was Carmen. She entered silently, with a worried look, holding a tray. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to talk to anyone.

She approached slowly and watched me for a moment before sighing.

— I’m so sorry, miss — she said softly.

I turned my head to the opposite side, unable to respond. She sat in the chair next to the bed, as if she were determined not to leave me alone.

The silence between us was heavy, but somehow comforting.

Still, the emptiness remained. And I knew it would be a long time before I could fill it with anything strong enough.