Diego suddenly sat down in a chair.
As if his legs had been cut off.
“No,” she whispered. “No, no, no.”
Paola looked at him with a mixture of anger and fear.
-Twins?
The doctor gently corrected herself.
—Early twin pregnancy. It will need to be closely monitored.
I cried, but not like in the bathroom anymore.
He cried differently.
With pain, yes.
But also with a new strength.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand.
—Doctor, are my babies okay?
My babies.
Saying it broke me and sustained me at the same time.
“For now, yes,” she said. “There’s cardiac activity in both of them. We’ll need frequent checkups, relative rest depending on how things progress, tests, and a lot of peace and quiet.”
Diego let out a broken laugh.
—Calm down. Of course.
The doctor turned to him.
—Sir, with all due respect, if you came here to further upset my patient, I’m going to ask you to leave.
My patient.
Not “his wife”.
Not “the accused”.
I.
For the first time in weeks, someone belonged to me.
Diego got up.
—Laura, we need to talk.
I sat up slowly. The doctor helped me clean off the gel and handed me a towel. I pulled my dress down with trembling hands, but not from fear.
—No—I said.
Diego frowned.
—What do you mean, no?
—We don’t need to talk here. Not now. Not in front of her.
I looked at Paola.
She blushed.
