Marcello.

I hesitated before opening the message.

Ma chère Jess, it began. Le ciel parisien semble un peu moins lumineux en ton absence.

I frowned, translating the French automatically. The Parisian sky feels a little less bright while you are away.

The message was beautiful, poetic, and... hollow. It felt wrong to read it, like I was betraying Luke by even acknowledging it. I wasn't close to even being remotely ready just to acknowledge that Luke is dead. I was even less ready for whatever Marcello was. I locked the phone without replying and tossed it back onto the bed.

Laura noticed but didn't comment. She simply gave me a knowing look, as if she could read my thoughts and had decided to let it slide-for now.

"Come on," she said, tossing me a loose sweater. "Let's get this over with."

The waiting room was sterile and quiet, the low hum of the air conditioning the only sound as Laura sat beside me, flipping through a magazine she wasn't really reading. I couldn't focus on anything-the words in the magazine, the ticking of the clock. on the wall, nothing. My mind was a whirlpool of questions and fears I wasn't ready to face.

I stood up quickly, my legs unsteady, but Laura was there to steady me, her hand resting lightly

followed her down the corridor, each step feeling like it led me further into a nightmare

escape.

doctor's office was small, with walls painted a calming shade of pale green. The OB-GYN, a man in his mid-forties, stood by the counter as we entered. His smile was kind, but there was something in his eyes-something that made the air

to steady my breathing. Laura stood at my side, her arm lightly draped over my shoulder. Her presence

movements, as if he didn't quite know how to approach me. I

He wanted to say something, I could feel it, and I hated it. I hated the way he looked at

Don't. I just

and pressed on. "Please, just do your job. We're not

Laura, my body tense, trying to control the rush of emotions that threatened to flood me. My hands were clenched into fists at my sides, and I had to fight to keep my voice steady when I finally spoke "I-I don't need... anyone's pity," I managed, my throat tight. "I just want to know if... if my

off guard by my words, but Laura was already guiding him toward the task

his expression still lingered with concern. As he moved to prepare the equipment, I closed

thought of doing this alone-without

say something, I could feel it, and I hated it. I hated the way he looked at me, as if I was

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