“And you have some kids with an internet starlet, will that make your memory fade from this scarlet maroon, like it never happened?”

https://open.spotify.com/track/1rmEsOezwf2lmIZTMAO5Ag?si=a0a939cc92984ccf

cw / pregnancy, infidelity, mention of dying, suicidal thoughts

Alexa groaned when the sound of her alarm filled the entire apartment. She did not want to admit this; but she barely touched her phone these days for she had found herself waiting for some text that might never arrive and she hated herself for it. She immediately turned it off without taking a look at the screen, and then she dragged her body to the bathroom.

Another day, another fight; and today she had to see his father’s psychiatrist and learn about his latest condition. She doubted anything had improved, but she left a room for the tiniest hope. She could have used her hope-bearer, but he was someplace far, fighting his own battle.

She kinda missed him.

After showering, Alexa opened her wardrobe and something fell from the top shelf—a bag of her unused pads. She frowned, and as she took it to put it back, a realization dawned on her.

She was a month late.

Alexa reached for her phone to open her calendar, and while she tried to remember if anything happened during her ovulation window few weeks back, she felt a horror creeped in. Her last red day was in June, and she hadn’t had any period after that. Trembling, she went to open her medicine drawer, where she stored a stack of pregnancy tests there.

This wasn’t her first rodeo—she had experienced pregnancy scare before, but this one felt different. In her previous cases, she always wished for the test to turn out negative. And yet, her heart raced faster this time. She found herself was standing in the intersection of longing and of course not, don’t even think about it, you dumbass.

What was wrong with her? She should never carry Nicholas’ child, not now, not ever.

She put down the testpack back into the drawer and she reached for her phone. Her finger stopped at one name, the one who offered to be her emergency dial, and yet she could not bring herself to hear his voice. What if he actually got what he wanted and it would be a farewell call instead? Or worse—what if he lost? How should one console a losing soldier?

So she skipped him, and went to call Derian instead.

“So my dearest cousin still remembers me after all?” Classic petty Derian—no hello, no how-are-you, just straight-up complaining. Alexa giggled in between her nerves. “I’m sorry.”

“What’s wrong?”

“How do you know something is wrong?”

“You always called me when something went wrong.”

A wave of guilt engulfed her. “Did I always do that? I’m really sorry.”

“Wait, now it scares me even more… Where you at? Are you okay?”