In the hushed stillness of the night, Emma stood before me, her face etched with a sad expression. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around her, drawing her close, seeking comfort in the familiar contours of her form.
"Everything alright?" I inquired, my voice a soft murmur against her ear.
"Yeah, why do you ask?" she replied, her voice carrying a fragile finish of normalcy.
"Your face seems to be telling a different story. What were you thinking? You can tell me, you know," I urged gently.
Emma hesitated, her eyes reflecting a storm of emotions. "It's just that... can I ask you something?"
"Anything," I affirmed, my voice resolute with unwavering commitment.
"If something happened to me, would you promise to be an amazing father and take good care of our angel?" she questioned, her words hanging heavy in the air.
"What! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND? I will let absolutely nothing happen to you!! You and our angel make up my world. How could I be without you?" I exclaimed, my voice a blend of distress and determination.
Emma, with a heavy sigh, began to remove her sweater, revealing her hands. My eyes widened in disbelief at the sight before me. A large portion of her hands... was hollow. I extended a trembling hand, attempting to touch it, but my fingers passed right through, as if she were made of air.
"W-wha-How did this happen?" I stammered, my mind reeling in shock and fear.
"I-I don't know. It started like a week ago. Not only my arm. Little by little, my whole body is starting to disappear. Daniel, I'm scared!!" Emma cried out, her voice laced with desperation.
She clung to me, her tears falling like rain, soaking into the fabric of my shirt. Heartbreaking sobs wracked her body, and I held her tighter, my own eyes stinging with unshed tears.
"I have always wanted to see our angel grow. I won't even see her first birthday!!" she wailed, her words echoing the depths of her despair.
"Sweetheart, please stop crying. Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise I'll do anything to make sure of that," I vowed, my voice firm, even as uncertainty gripped my heart like a vise.
From that moment on, my life became a relentless pursuit for answers. I explored into books, consulted countless doctors, and scoured scientific journals. Yet, each effort proved futile. One night, after ensuring both Emma and our child were safely tucked in bed, I retreated to my office, desperate for a solution that seemed increasingly subtle.
The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls as I pored over my research. Pieces of paper and scattered tools surrounded me, an evidence to my tireless quest. Frustration gnawed at my patience as I struggled to decode a complex diagram.
"Ok, so this long piece goes here, and this bolt... wait, where does this one go?" I muttered to myself, my fingers tracing invisible patterns in the air. My eyes fell on a paper I had drafted earlier, containing crucial instructions, but it was nowhere to be found amid the clutter.
With a heavy sigh, I left my office, my steps leading me to the bedroom. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the room, casting a warm glow on the shelves adorned with memories. Among folded clothes, I spotted the missing paper, its presence a puzzle in the dim light.
"How did it get here? Maybe the child..." I began, attempting to rationalize its displacement.
As I reached to retrieve it, my eyes fell upon a dress, a garment from a time long past, woven with memories of our first meeting. But it was not the dress that held my gaze; it was the holes that blemished its fabric. Not from wear, but as if it were dissolving, mirroring the fate that had befallen Emma.
Realization washed over me like a tidal wave. It wasn't Emma who was flawed; it was this world that rejected her, this world that sought to erase her existence. In that moment, my heart shattered into a million pieces, grief and despair overwhelming my senses.
I clutched the dress to my chest, tears streaming down my face as I mourned the impending loss of the woman I loved. The room felt stifling, the air thick with sorrow as I wept, my cries echoing in the silence of the night.