The sterile chill of the doctor's office pierced Jill's skin as she shifted uncomfortably in her chair. The walls, painted a lifeless shade of beige, did nothing to calm her. Her eyes wandered to the clock, the second hand ticking endlessly, mocking her growing anxiety. It was a small room, but the silence felt immense, as if the weight of her thoughts pressed down from every direction.
Alice sat across from her, appearing equally tense yet infinitely more composed. Her gaze revealed a sense of anxiety, as if she were scrutinising Jill and dissecting every movement. Jill caught her eye again, and the hairs on her neck stood on end.
"Stop looking at me like that, Alice," Jill said nearly under her breath. Her hands twisted together in her lap, the slight tremble revealing how much she disliked being the centre of attention in such situations. "I'm not pregnant."
Alice's lips parted slightly, and her eyes narrowed with compassion and inquiry. "I'm not scaring you, Jill. "I am just... confused." Her voice softened, attempting to ease the tension in the air.
Jill breathed sharply, the words tasting unpleasant as she spoke them. "Alice, I haven't slept with anyone." The confession came almost naturally, yet the unease hung on her like a black shadow.
Alice blinked, digesting her response, and her brow furrowed in reaction. "Are you still a virgin?"
Jill turned her head towards Alice, her face flushed with discomfort and a strange relief. "Yes." It was the truth, no matter how uncomfortable, but in that moment, it felt like she was revealing something far more profound, a side of herself she didn't want to reveal.
Alice appeared to trust her, as her expression softened. "Okay. I believe you. Let us wait for the test results."
The words lingered in the air between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts.
The door opened, and the doctor entered with a clipboard and a grim demeanour. He was tall, with a face that appeared both approachable and distant. His gaze scanned the room briefly before settling on Alice and Jill.
"How are you ladies doing?" he asked, the professional tone in his voice doing little to conceal the slight pleasure in his gaze.
"We're good, Doctor," Alice replied smoothly, but a hesitation lingered in her voice, as if she were bracing for the moment they had been waiting for.
The doctor nodded, pulled out a chair, and sat down. "Sorry for the delay," he said, flipping through some papers. "The test took longer than expected."
Jill squeezed her fists, her nails piercing into the sensitive flesh on her palms. She wanted to say something and ask questions, but the words would not come. The silence dragged on, unbearably heavy.
Being the daring one, Alice couldn't endure the silence any longer. "Is it ready now?" she enquired, her voice loud with curiosity but tinged with the same underlying worry that seized both.
The doctor looked up, greeting her with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yes," he said, his tone serious. "And, Alice, when will you stop avoiding me?" I wonder when I'll eventually catch your attention."
Alice laughed, shaking her head. "Doc, that's not why we're here," she continued, her voice humorous, but there was an edge of tension. "I've told you a million times—I don't date married men. But if you're interested in my friend here, she's available."
Jill felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment, and she immediately shot Alice a sharp look. "Come on, Alice," she muttered, her voice small. "That's not funny."
The doctor's lips twisted into a grin, with the faintest hint of enjoyment in his eyes. "She's beautiful, but I don't date pregnant women."
The words struck Jill like a blow to the stomach. Her breath caught, and the world seemed to stand still for a moment. Alice froze, her demeanour shifting from playful to frightened.
"Pregnant?!" Alice's voice cracked; the word poured from her lips like a long-suppressed scream.
The doctor leaned back in his chair; his expression unreadable. "Congratulations," he murmured, with a clinical tone. "You're three months pregnant."
Jill's entire world seems to collapse upon itself. The air in the room thickened, choking her as the weight of his words pressed against her chest. She could neither breathe nor think. The ground beneath her feet felt unstable, as if it were sinking. A piercing ache raced through her temple, and she tried to grip the chair to hold onto a strand of reality. Yet, nothing made sense.
"Three months? How could that be possible? She hadn't... She didn't..."
Alice turned slowly, as though the motion required all her strength, her eyes fixed on Jill. Her expression mirrored Jill's: both were lost in shock, unable to comprehend what had just been said.
Jill opened her mouth, but no sound emerged. She struggled to swallow; her throat was dry. A tightness in her chest made it seem impossible to breathe.
"How—?" Jill's voice broke, and she tried again, the words coming out in a hoarse whisper. "How could I...?"
But Alice cut her off, her face pale and her lips shaking as she reached out, almost as if she were afraid Jill would vanish into the air surrounding them. "Are you sure?" Her voice sounded strained, optimistic, and terrified, as if she were looking for a way out of this nightmare.
The doctor's countenance remained unchanged, but his eyes twitched with concern. "It's not uncommon for women to be unaware of their pregnancy at first," he remarked, offering no consolation but only facts. "But based on the tests, the result is clear."
Jill's mind raced, searching for control and reason, but nothing came. The world outside the room felt remote, a blur she could no longer grasp. She gazed at her trembling hands, and the silence grew excruciatingly louder.
"Three months," she repeated, her voice mirroring the doctor's.
Alice remained silent. She stared at Jill, her expression unreadable. For a moment, the only sound was the rhythmic tick-tick-tick of the clock on the wall.
And then, Alice spoke, her voice trembling. "Jill... this doesn't make sense. You've never mentioned anything. Why didn't you say something before?"
Jill's heart raced in her chest. The question felt like a hit, but she couldn't respond. How could she explain the emptiness she had felt, the fear that had twisted her insides for months? These were the thoughts running through her mind as she continued to stare at Alice.
"I... I don't know," Jill murmured, her voice breaking. "I didn't think... I didn't think it could be real."
The doctor cleared his throat, releasing the tension with his usual clinical demeanour. "You should schedule another appointment," he added, stepping up and passing Jill a piece of paper. "We'll go over your options and discuss what's next."
Jill scarcely heard the words. She could not concentrate on anything. Its body felt numb, as if its spirit had abandoned it.
Alice stood beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder. It was warm and steady, yet it seemed far, like a lifeline she couldn't quite grasp.
"Jill..." Alice whispered, her voice small and fragile. "What are we going to do?"
The room appeared to close in on Jill, and the air was thick with unanswered questions. She was drowning, yet the surface was barely beyond her reach.
The silence in the room became her constant companion, pressing against her chest.
The weight of the unknown was crushing. The doctor exited the room, and the door closed behind them. Jill realised there was no way back.