24. Chapter 24

Chapter twenty-four

Present

H earing wheels screech across a floor, feeling myself being dragged along, I start to come to. My mind is foggy, and every thought feels like it's slipping through my fingers. I don't know why I feel so dazed or why my head feels like it's on the verge of exploding, but deep down, there's an instinctive sense that whatever is happening, it won’t be something I’ll like. The buzzing in my ears is relentless, drowning out the voices that swirl around me, each one muffled and distant. I try to open my eyes, but the lights are too harsh, searing my vision and forcing me to close them tightly. My entire body aches, a dull throb echoing through my bones, and then I feel hands on me—gentle, yet foreign, like they don’t belong. The touch creeps up to my ribs, and as they press slightly, I hiss in pain, recoiling instinctively.

What’s happening? Where am I?

Abruptly waking up, I come face to face with the comforting darkness of my room, the familiar shadows stretching across the walls. I glance down at the clock on my bedside table.

3:04 AM.

I’ve barely been asleep for three hours, and a sinking feeling tells me that sleep won’t be returning anytime soon. Everything that haunts my sleep feels so real, yet when I try to recall it, it slips away like sand through my fingers. I’ve avoided horror movies, sticking to love stories and Disney classics, hoping they would bring peace to my nights. I’ve cut out alcohol and weed, hoping to calm my restless mind, but nothing seems to work. I can’t shake the question that lingers: what is it that’s tormenting me?

Turning to look at Laelia, I notice her side of the bed is empty. My heart skips a beat. Where could she be at this hour?

Quietly, I slip out of bed, feeling the cool floor beneath my feet as I make my way down the stairs. The living room is empty, and so is the kitchen. Confusion settles in as I turn to head back upstairs, and suddenly, I find myself face to face with Laelia. She’s standing there, still and silent, causing me to jump back, my hand instinctively clutching my chest.

“You scared me,” I say softly, my voice a bit shaky. But she just stands there, staring at me with an unsettling calmness. The dim light from the kitchen barely illuminates her face, but there’s something off, something I can’t quite put my finger on. “Laelia?” I call out gently, but she remains silent, unblinking.

I take a cautious step towards her, and in the faint glow of the moonlight streaming in through the window, I catch a glimpse of something dark and wet on her face—something red. My breath hitches.

“W-what’s happened? You’re hurt,” I stammer, rushing towards her with concern, my heart pounding in my chest.

“You did this to me,” she says, her voice firm, cutting through the silence like a knife. I stop dead in my tracks, my mind reeling with confusion.

“W-what do you mean I did this to you?” My voice quivers, fear creeping into the edges of my words.

“You did this to us!” she suddenly screams, her voice filled with anguish as she places a hand on her stomach. In a blink, she’s standing right in front of me, her face marred with cuts, blood trickling down her arms, and a dark, crimson handprint staining her white nightgown. Before I can process what’s happening, she lunges at me with a guttural scream, and everything around me goes black.

I shoot up in bed, my heart racing as I clutch my chest, panting heavily. My head spins, and I’m utterly disoriented, struggling to make sense of what just happened. Have I just had a nightmare within a nightmare? The clock reads 8:23 AM, and Laelia’s side of the bed is still empty. Anxiety grips me as I swing my legs over the side of the bed and rush out of the room.

Downstairs, I find Laelia curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. She looks worse than before, her skin pale, her eyes sunken with exhaustion. My heart aches seeing her like this. I crouch down in front of her, the soft rustle of the blanket as I move causing her eyes to flutter open. They’re glazed over, distant, and my worry deepens. She needs to see a doctor, and fast.

Without hesitation, I grab the phone, not even bothering to ask her if she wants me to call. She’s too unwell to make that decision herself. As I dial, the phone rings in my ear, the automated menu options blurring together as I choose the appropriate ones, my eyes never leaving her.

“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper, strained and hoarse.

“I’m calling the doctor to get you an appointment,” I reply gently, trying to keep my voice steady. She weakly shakes her head, trying to sit up.

“Killian,” she murmurs, her voice breaking. “I don’t need them. I just need to rest.”

I ignore her protests, waiting for the receptionist to pick up. I can’t stand to see her suffer like this.

“The Medical Centre. I’m Joanne, how can I help you today?” the receptionist’s voice chirps through the phone.

“I’d like to book an appointment for my fiancée,” I say, trying to keep the urgency out of my voice. “She’s about eighteen to nineteen weeks pregnant. She’s been constantly vomiting, she’s lethargic, dizzy, and she hasn’t eaten much of anything in the last few days.”

The receptionist hums in response, typing away on the other end. “Okay, I can get you in for two o’clock. Can I take a name?”

“Laelia Jayne Marie Thorn,” I respond quickly.

“Date of birth?”

“Thirteenth of December, ninety-three.”

There’s a pause, and my stomach tightens with worry.

“I’m sorry, we don’t seem to have a Laelia Thorn on our records,” she says.

“What do you mean you don’t have her on your records? She visited you not that long ago,” I argue, frustration creeping into my voice.

“I understand, but she’s no longer on our records.”

“Killian,” Laelia whispers, her voice barely audible. “Just leave it.”

I shake my head at her, refusing to give up. “How do you lose someone’s records? She’s never missed an appointment, she hasn’t moved house, and she hasn’t changed doctors. Why have you taken her off your records?”

“Killian,” her voice breaks again. “I’m no longer with them.”

I sigh, rubbing my temple as the stress of the situation weighs heavily on me. I’m not even listening to the woman on the other end of the phone anymore. “It doesn’t matter,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm. “Sorry for the inconvenience. It turns out she’s moved doctors. I hope you have a good day,” I add before hanging up.

I place my phone on the coffee table and turn my full attention to Laelia, my heart aching for her. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she says softly, her voice filled with regret. “I moved because I wanted a practice that’s more focused on pregnancy. I hope you’re not mad.”

“I’m not mad, beautiful,” I assure her, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I just assumed you were still there.”

Her eyes flutter closed at the tender touch, and I can’t help but feel a surge of love and protectiveness for her. “Will you let me get you something to eat?” I ask, my voice warm and caring.

A small, weak smile tugs at her lips. “I have a craving for ice cream,” she says, her voice almost childlike in its softness.

I kiss her forehead again, a smile spreading across my face. “Ice cream it is,” I say, getting up and heading into the kitchen. I scoop a bowl of vanilla ice cream and bring it back to her, placing it gently on the coffee table. She tries to get comfortable, her eyes lighting up as she sees the treat.

“Vanilla ice cream,” she grins, a playful twinkle in her tired eyes. “I should’ve known.”

I laugh softly, remembering the first time she teased me about my love for vanilla ice cream. It’s a small moment of normalcy in the midst of the chaos, and for that, I’m grateful. We’ll get through this, together.