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9

I enjoy rice and chicken with passion as if I had never eaten such a dish in my life.

My fingers were covered in sauce, and the corner of my mouth was dirty from my way of eating.

"Have you never eaten chicken and rice in your life?" my friend asks after closing the door.

I swallow my bite as I lick my fingers and get up. He approaches with a smile and hugs me.

"Axel!" I squeeze his cheeks, kissing his nose and forehead. "I missed you so much."

"I still can't get used to your displays of affection," he says, running his fingertips along the corners of my lips. "Are you okay? Ready to go to the doctor?"

I lick my lips and sit back, propping my legs up on the sofa. Axel stands in front of me, still looking at me with tenderness and amusement.

"I'm not sure," I say before taking another spoonful.

"We have to go," he presses his lips together, lowering his gaze to my belly. "We need to see how everything is going with the little one."

I nod, carefully swallowing and pointing the fork in his direction.

"Where have you been?" he squints his eyes.

He bites his lip, thinking of the lie to tell me. I raise an eyebrow.

"Here and there."

"Can I go into your art room?"

"No!" I shrug my shoulders, taking another bite while watching him regret his hasty response. "You know I don't like anyone going in there."

"Not even me?"

"Not even you."

I stick my tongue to my cheek, deep in thought. I nod, finishing my meal. I head to the kitchen, aware of his gaze on my body, probably waiting for me to say something.

It hurts that he doesn't trust me enough to tell me about his passions. However, I say nothing about it. I also have things I haven't told him.

"There's chicken and rice there, it turned out delicious. Have something before we leave," I smile, and he curls his lips. I approach him and lovingly run my fingers through his hair. "It's okay, I understand. I understand you."

"Aren't you mad about me not telling you?"

"Have I ever been mad at you?"

He raises his eyebrows, I squint my eyes and furrow my brow.

"The time you touched my books, you got really mad," he points out, and I huff, pulling his hair.

"They were arranged alphabetically, and when I checked, they were arranged by cover color."

"They look prettier that way."

"Well, I don't like them that way!" I growl.

He quickly gets up, placing his hands on my shoulders. He puts pressure on them while still looking at me with amusement, making my brow furrow even more.

"Alright, calm down. Grumpy mom."

"You idiot," I wink at him. I chuckle and shake my head. "Go eat something, I'll go get ready."

He looks at me from head to toe with confusion, and I lick my lips when his gaze lands on my face.

"You look fine to me," he shrugs.

"I know, I want to look better."

I walk down the hallway, but before reaching my room, I turn my body.

I find him serving himself some of the food I made. Once everything is on his plate, he brings it to his nose and smells the food. I roll my eyes; he has that bad habit.

"Hey," I call him, and he turns his face. "I went to see Arthur."

"Damn it, Michelle," he sighs.

"I know you can't stand him, but you need to know that he told me he had nothing to do with the incident at the center."

His face stiffens as he walks to the table, carefully placing the plate down and turning away. His angry gaze and reddened cheeks make it clear how upset he is by the news.

I grimace, clutching my dress on the sides of my hips.

"And you believed him?" I lower my gaze to my feet and sigh. "You believed him."

"He seemed sincere..."

"Go take a shower, Michelle. I don't want to fight with you over that idiot."

He shakes his hair, messing up my carefully styled hairdo as he stands in front of me.

"Okay."

I spend quite a while in the bathroom, thinking I'm calm and relaxed. But his hurt gaze and pained expression come to my mind. The way he got angry because he wasn't the one accompanying me to the hospital hits me in the chest.

He confuses me, making me question whether I matter to him or not.

Despite that, my plans remain unchanged. I will find the right moment to tell him that I'm expecting his child, and I will seek the perfect setting. Right now, I'm only concerned about the journalists; I have to talk to Axel about what he told me.

And find a new place.

I exhale; I hate moving. Every time I leave a place, it feels like I'm leaving a part of myself behind.

Memories don't pack up and move like clothes.

And here, even though I've been here for a short time, there are so many memories.

(...)

I was very nervous, my leg trembling and moving involuntarily.

Axel's eyes looked at me with amusement and tenderness at the same time. I swallow saliva, averting my gaze.

"Relax," he whispers.

"It's my first time."

"You weren't pregnant before," he rolls his eyes.

I huff and playfully hit his head. He groans softly, complaining about the blow, and gently rubs his head while giving me a sour look.

I bite my lip, focusing my gaze on people passing by. It has started to rain a little, which doesn't surprise me. It always rains in London.

"Do you think it hurts?" she asked, counting the minutes that had passed.

He denies it, maybe to reassure me or maybe because he truly believes it doesn't hurt. Whatever the answer, it doesn't do me any good.

"Hey, relax. If you want, you can squeeze my hand until I faint from the pain, okay?"

"Okay," she exhales.

"They can come in now," she tightens her fists.

We get up carefully, Axel takes my hand while I nervously nibble on my cheek over and over again, trying to calm myself mentally. It can't be that bad.

They're just going to check if everything is fine.

And that's what I fear, that they'll tell me the opposite and that something is wrong with my child.

I can't bear it.

I need Arthur with me. I can't do this alone.

I appreciate Axel being here more than he knows, but Arthur should be here instead.

He should be here. It's his duty.

"I'm scared," I inform near his ear. "What if everything goes wrong?"

"What if it doesn't?" he smiles at me.

I relax my face, squeezing his hand. I nervously smile, walking with him to that room that quickens my heartbeat.

"Thank you for being here," I kiss his cheek.

I wrap my arm around his waist, forming a half-hug that he reciprocates by placing his hand on my lower back, urging me to walk with more confidence.

"Always by your side," he confesses.

I wipe my cheek, entering the room before him.

The smell of detergent and alcohol caresses my nose. I inhale deeply, removing my fingers and shaking my hands, which are cold from nerves.

"Good afternoon."

We are greeted by a woman. I move my lips to form an apologetic smile at her, she approaches me slowly and indicates that I take a seat in the chairs in front of the desk. When her eyes meet Axel's, she stops smiling.

I furrow my eyebrows and look at Axel who has also stopped smiling and is looking at her seriously.

I swallow, curious about what I'm witnessing.

"Do you know each other?"

The woman shakes her head. Axel speaks.

"We had something."

The girl presses her lips angrily at Axel's honesty. I lick my lips, shifting in my seat.

"How awkward," I blurt out.

"Okay, Michelle?" I nod in her direction, she sits in front of me while still looking at a small notebook she has in her well-kept hands. "Good," she puts the notebook down, observing me in silence. I get more nervous. "First-time mom?"

"Is it that obvious?" I let out a laugh.

Which strangely feels familiar to me.

"I'm Dr. Christine," she smiles at me again, squinting her eyes to admire her face. "It's a pleasure."

Her eyes are the same color as the person who owns my thoughts. Her nose is perfect and her eyebrows are thick, she has blond hair, almost linen-colored. She is truly beautiful. I blink, snapping out of my stupor.

Axel pinches my leg, bringing me back to the present.

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