The next morning, I woke before dawn, excitement coursing through my veins like a river of anticipation. The soft morning light peeking through the curtains beckoned me to start my day.
I slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Clyde, who was still lost in slumber. My destination was the privacy of my bathroom, where my secrets and plans would remain safe.
I closed the door, locking it securely behind me, and began my calculations. My period chart lay spread before me, a map guiding me toward my ultimate goal.
The timing was perfect. Every punctured condom had increased the odds.
No pills for me. No barriers. Just nature's course.
I wanted to be pregnant. As soon as possible.
I needed to be pregnant...
Clyde's divorce commitment would accelerate. A baby would seal our bond, ensuring his freedom from Anissa.
My hands trembled with anticipation as I envisioned the future.
Clyde's face, joyful and proud, holding our tiny miracle.
Our future. Together. No more secrets. No more Anissa.
Just us. And our growing family.
My heart swelled, overflowing with emotion.
I returned to bed, slipping under the covers beside Clyde.
He stirred, his eyes opening lazily.
"Good morning," he whispered.
"Planning something?" he asked.
His eyes sparkled with curiosity.
I smiled.
"Just our future," I replied.
His arms wrapped around me.
"Forever," he whispered.
As we embraced, I knew.
Knew this was just the beginning.
...
As I emerged from the tranquil cocoon of slumber, my phone erupted into a cacophony of notifications, shattering the morning's serene silence. The device vibrated with an unrelenting fervor, as if eager to share the extraordinary news.
"Moonlight Shadow" had taken the world by storm.
Critics and cinephiles alike lavished praise upon my magnum opus.
"A cinematic masterpiece!"
"Emotionally ravishing!"
"Visually breathtaking!"
Each glowing review resonated deep within my soul, kindling an uncontainable sense of pride.
Clyde stirred beside me, his sleepy gaze gradually giving way to alertness.
"What's behind this frenzy?" he asked.
I beamed, my smile illuminating the morning.
"Moonlight Shadow has captured the hearts of all."
Clyde's eyes sparkled with delight.
"You've transcended boundaries," he whispered.
As I delved into the digital realm, a tidal wave of accolades engulfed me.
Renowned publications.
Influential critics.
Respected peers.
All extolled the virtues of my creative vision.
The phone rang.
My agent's effervescent voice echoed through the line.
"Dahlia, you're on fire!" she exclaimed.
"Awards, red-carpet events, and interviews – the world beckons!"
Clyde enveloped me in a warm embrace.
"Bask in the glory," he whispered.
"You've earned this triumph."
Morning unfolded into a whirlwind of phone calls, messages, and congratulations.
Moonlight Shadow's success.
Clyde's unwavering support.
His love.
Together, we basked in the radiance of this momentous dawn.
Morning's warmth awakened me, but my body betrayed me. Nausea gripped my stomach, waves of dizziness washed over me, and fatigue clung like a shroud. I recognized these telltale signs.
Pregnancy.
Excitement coursed through my veins, mingling with a hint of nervousness.
But I wouldn't share the news with Clyde.
Not yet.
I needed confirmation.
Certainty.
I scheduled a doctor's appointment, my mind racing with possibilities.
As I stepped out into the bright sunlight, the world seemed to spin.
My fragile state demanded caution.
Each step deliberate.
Each breath calculated.
That's when I saw her.
Anissa.
On the sidewalk.
Our eyes locked.
A mix of surprise and longing reflected in hers.
I walked past her.
No words.
No acknowledgement.
No hesitation.
My focus lay elsewhere.
At the doctor's office.
Dr. Thompson's warm smile greeted me.
"Dahlia, let's take a look," she said.
The ultrasound machine hummed to life.
Images flickered on the screen.
A tiny heartbeat.
Life.
"Our results?" I asked.
"Congratulations, Dahlia," Dr. Thompson said.
"You're two months pregnant."
Elation surged.
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.
I floated on air.
This tiny life.
Our future.
Clyde's.
Mine.
The doctor's words faded into the background.
As visions of motherhood danced.
A baby's laughter.
Clyde's gentle guidance.
Our little family.
I arrived home, concealment no longer an option.
Clyde sat on the couch, engrossed in his book.
I approached him, a sly smile spreading.
"Clyde?" I said softly.
He looked up.
"What's up?"
I handed him a small gift box.
"For me?" he asked.
"Open it."
Curiosity sparked.
He unwrapped the box.
A tiny onesie lay inside.
"Is this...?"
His eyes locked onto mine.
"Dahlia?"
I nodded.
Tears of joy.
Clyde's face lit up.
"We're having a baby?"
I nodded again.
He swept me into his arms.
"We're going to be parents!"
Our lips met.
Tender.
Loving.
Promising.
The world faded.
Only us.
Our future.
Our family.
Two months passed.
My baby bump grew.
Baggy clothes concealed it.
Awards and collaborations filled my schedule.
Red carpets.
Flashbulbs.
Interviews.
My career soared.
One evening, Clyde and I relaxed at home.
His phone rang.
He hesitated.
"Anissa?" he said.
My heart skipped a beat.
Clyde's expression turned cold.
"What do you want, Anissa?"
Silence.
"I'm not discussing this over the phone."
More silence.
"Fine. Meet me tomorrow."
He hung up.
"Everything okay?" I asked.
Clyde's eyes narrowed.
"Anissa wants to meet."
Concern etched his face.
"I'll handle it."
But I sensed unease.
The past creeping into our present.