The water had been running for too long.
She didn't notice. Or maybe she did — and chose not to care.
Droplets slid down her face, blending too easily with something she refused to name.
"You should have been clearer with your words."
Her eyes shut tighter.
She leaned her head against the wall, cold tiles grounding her — if only for a moment.
His voice still echoed — clear, steady... and somehow worse because of it.
And just like that, the moment came rushing back —
"How do you always find a way to get on my nerves?"
He paused before answering, exhaling slowly.
"I'm sorry, Aira. I walked away that morning because... I didn't know what to say... how to explain it."
She let out a quiet, disbelieving breath.
"You didn't know what to say?"
His gaze dropped, jaw tightening slightly.
"I know that's not fair. You don't deserve any of this... but I can't be in a relationship even if I want to,"
A pause.
He exhaled, slower this time.
"I've never told anyone about it. But this — this mattered more than I expected."
"I didn't want you to misunderstand. Or think I just... walked away."
Another pause.
Like he was choosing what not to say.
"Please... forgive me"
"I loved you, Aira..."
His voice softened — barely there.
"...but I can't choose this."
A pause.
Too long. Too loud.
Her chest tightened even now, the echo of the door closing behind him settling where it hurt the most.
Once again, he had left her behind — with a dozen of questions and no answer.
What did he even mean by that?
Why can't he be in any relationship?
A humorless breath slipped past her lips.
I can't be upset over his rejection... right?
Or was it even a rejection?
I never confessed...
He had.
And then, somehow, refused everything that came with it.
No space for her words.
No place for her in a decision that was about her.
"Ouch..."
The sharp sting cut through her thoughts.
She flinched as the warm water hit the back of her neck again, this time burning instead of soothing.
Her hand instinctively moved upward, fingers brushing over the irritated skin.
Rough.
Wrong.
She pulled her hand back slightly, frowning as her fingertips lingered over the spot.
The warmth didn't feel normal anymore.
It spread — slow, uneven — like something waking beneath her skin.
Faint redness.
But it wasn't just that.
It itched — deep, persistent... almost unsettling.
She reached for the body wash, squeezing some into her palm, hoping to clean whatever was causing it.
But as the scent rose with the steam —
She paused.
Her brows knit together.
It smelled... stronger.
Too sharp.
Almost unpleasant.
She stared at it for a second longer than necessary.
Something wasn't right.
She stepped out of the shower and paused, inspecting her reflection.
The redness had spread.
Not just her neck anymore — her shoulders, her arms... faint patched across her skin.
A slight frown formed on her face.
This wasn't normal.
She applied an allergy ointment, then swallowed an antihistamine before laying down on the bed.
But her mind refused to rst.
She had never had allergies.
Not as a child. Not ever.
Her thoughts began retracing everything — what she ate, where she went, if anything had bitten or stung her.
Nothing made sense.
Nothing added up.
Maybe it's just the weather... or the water.
But even that felt like a weak explanation.
With a quiet sigh, she reached for her phone and began searching her symptoms.
Rash. Burning sensation. Skin irritation.
After a moment, she added another one.
Smell sensitivity.
Her thumb slowed.
Then stilled.
One word caught her attention.
Pregnancy.
Her eyes lingered on the screen longer than they should have.
The air felt... different.
Heavier.
She clicked.
Scrolled.
Read.
Symptoms lined up — too closely.
Too easily.
Her breath faltered.
The phone lowered slightly in her hand.
A thought surfaced — one she hadn't allowed herself to consider.
Not with everything that had happened.
Not with him.
Her brows drew together faintly.
She had missed it.
A few days. Maybe more.
Lost somewhere between everything she had been trying not to feel.
Silence settled around her.
Not loud. Not sharp.
Just... there.
She didn't search further.
Didn't need to.
Little day she know —
this was only the beginning of something she could never have imagined.
Something more than just pregnancy sickness.
Exhaustion crept in soon after, heavy and unavoidable.
And this time, her body didn't resist.
She fell asleep.
When she woke up, the rashes had almost faded.
Still, she chose loose clothes — something that covered her completely. Just in case.
She couldn't let her father notice.
Not now.
She avoided perfume too. Even the thought of it felt overwhelming.
A quick glance at the clock made her sit up.
Almost 7 pm.
She had to get to the hospital — so her father could rest.
She changed into something simple and fully covered, then left in a hurry.
On the way, her mind kept circling back.
Her mother would wake up soon.
Things had to stay normal.
By the time she reached the hospital, a quiet tension had settled in her chest.
She walked in carefully, almost unconsciously aware of herself — of the way her hands moved, of the slight instinct to protect her stomach.
It wasn't visible.
Not yet.
But the thought was there.
And it was enough.
She took a deep breath before stepping into the ward.
The sight inside softened something in her.
Her father sat beside the bed, his head resting near her mother's hand, exhaustion written all over him.
"Dad... wake up. I am here," she said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Aira..." he stirred, his voice heavy with sleep.
"You should go home and rest. I'll stay tonight," she said softly.
He nodded faintly.
"Hmm..."
He looked at her mother, gently holding her hand for a moment before turning back.
"Sit." he said softly.
Aira lowered herself beside him, glancing up.
"You came running back, leaving your study behind," he said. "I didn't even get a chance to ask... how are things there?"
She hesitated for a fraction of second.
"They're fine,"she said. "I've informed my teachers. A friend helped me reach out... they've allowed me to attend classes online for a few days."
He nodded slowly, still watching her.
"You've taken proper leave?"
"Yes, Dad. I'll manage. I can submit assignments online too."
A brief pause.
"Is it really okay?" he asked, concern slipping into his voice.
She forced a small smile.
"Yes... it's fine. Don't worry."
He studied her for a moment longer, then sighed lightly.
"Alright. Good child."
His hand came up to gently pat her head before he stood.
"I'll go home and get some rest."
She nodded.
As he walked out, the room grew quieter.
Not empty —
just heavier.
Silence settled in.
And with it... her thoughts.
Something felt off. Not just inside her — but around her.
The hospital smelled stronger than usual.
Sharper.
Unpleasant.
She frowned slightly.
Even familiar things didn't feel the same anymore.
The distant wail of an ambulance cut through the air — too sharp.
Too loud.
For a moment, she felt the urge to listen... more carefully.
The distant sounds outside didn't just reach her — they sharpened, as if something inside her was listening too.
But —
It rang in her ears longer than it should have.
She pressed her fingers lightly against her temple, trying to shake it off.
Her senses felt... heightened.
Uncomfortably so.
She had read that cravings were normal during pregnancy.
But this?
The thought of raw food — something she had always avoided — now lingered in her mind.
Not strong, but present.
Strange.
And the cloth she wore — suddenly the felt heavier. Rougher.
Her skin prickled beneath them, irritation spreading where there should have been none.
She shifted slightly, uneasy.
But again... all of it almost aligned with pregnancy.
Almost.
Because this felt like something more.
Something deeper. Something... wrong.
And she didn't know it yet —
But something inside her had already begun to change.
Three days passed.
Routine almost became habit.
The treatment continued.
Until the fourth day —
She stepped out to refill her water bottle.
And when she returned —
Her hand paused on the door.
A strange stillness settled over her.
She pushed it open.
And froze.