Chapter 70 - Tessa Is Back

The following days felt like a repetition of the past eight months, except this time, I found myself babysitting a stranger who was now living under my roof. Resentment brewed within me, and in my mind, I had banished her from the library—the only sanctuary where I could be truly alone. Sometimes, though, I would still catch glimpses of her wandering nearby, and each time I prayed she wouldn't discover a sudden passion for reading, invading my last refuge.

I couldn't help but wonder when Damon would return, or what he was doing at that very moment. His absence had left an emptiness, one that I found myself struggling to fill with thoughts that were turning more anxious by the day.

On Sunday, just after lunch, a dull ache began to stir in my stomach. I ignored it at first, hoping it would pass. But by 3 PM, the discomfort had turned into a fierce cramping, twisting deep within me. I had barely made it down the hallway, leaning heavily against the wall, when Valia noticed me clutching my stomach.

Her eyes widened in alarm. “Oh my goodness, are you alright?” she cried out, reaching toward me but hesitating, as if unsure whether to touch me.

I could feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead, running down like tiny rivers of panic. “I can’t move,” I groaned through clenched teeth. “Can you have the maid call the doctor?”

“Yes, right away!” Valia promised, her footsteps echoing urgently down the hall as she rushed off. I leaned harder against the wall, my vision beginning to blur from the pain. It felt like being stabbed a hundred times, each thrust more agonizing than the last. My legs trembled, and I knew I was going to fall.

Moments later, Valia returned with the maid. The maid quickly set down a glass of water and reached out to steady me, helping me to stay upright.

"I called the doctor, Madame," the maid said breathlessly. "He should be here any minute."

“Can you help me to my—OUCH!—bed, please? Take me to my—ahhhhhhh!” I cried out as another wave of pain crashed over me, stronger than the last.

The two women struggled to support my weight, but somehow, they managed. Valia kicked open the door to my bedroom, and they guided me inside, gently laying me down on the bed.

“I’ll go get you some water!” Valia offered, disappearing quickly down the hall. For a brief moment, I found myself wondering why she was being so unusually kind, but the thought faded in the face of my pain.

The doctor arrived minutes later, his expression tense and hurried, as if he was running from the shadow of Damon’s rage. “I’m so sorry I’m late, Mrs. Ava,” he apologized as he set his briefcase on the bed and took a seat. “I need you to take some deep breaths, in and out, okay?”

The pain was so intense, I wanted to kick him just for asking me to do something so trivial. “Am I giving birth?” I shrieked, fear sharpening my voice.

“No, no, it doesn’t have to be that,” he assured me, his hands already moving to check my vitals. He took my blood pressure and began a more thorough examination. Valia, still in the room, gave me an awkward glance, her discomfort apparent. When she noticed my glare, she seemed to understand that I wanted privacy.

“I’ll be right outside the door if you need me,” she said politely, thinning her lips into a forced smile before making a hasty exit.

When the doctor finally finished his examination, he looked at me through his glasses with a somber expression. A wave of guilt washed over me, remembering the pill he had offered me months ago to terminate any chance of pregnancy. I had refused, and I could see in his eyes that he still remembered.

“You’re not giving birth,” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “You have a urinary tract infection, which is quite common. However, your vaginal walls are very irritated.”

“What does that mean? Is the baby okay?” I demanded, panic rising again.

“The baby is fine, and you will be too,” he reassured me. “But it means you need to take it easy, especially during this last month.”

He hesitated, his discomfort clear. I already knew what he was about to say. “Are you talking about sex?” I asked bluntly. “Should I not have sex with Damon anymore?”

He swallowed audibly, his face flushing. “Yes, exactly. If you continue, the irritation won’t heal, and you’ll remain in pain—perhaps even experience more severe complications.”

A pang of disappointment coursed through me. One of the few joys I looked forward to during Damon’s absences was the comfort and intimacy we shared when he returned. Nonetheless, I nodded. “I understand,” I murmured.

The doctor left a few minutes later, providing me with a prescription for some medication. As the pain slowly subsided, I managed to get up and make my way to the bathroom. But before I reached it, I heard the low murmur of the doctor’s voice outside my door. Curious, I tiptoed closer to eavesdrop.

“I’m feeling quite weak these days,” came Valia’s soft voice. “My hair is falling out, my nails are brittle, and I have these migraines that last for hours. It’s unbearable.”

The doctor’s tone was calm but concerned. “It sounds like anemia, which is not uncommon for those who’ve been in a coma for a long time. I could arrange for a blood transfusion.”

“No!” Valia replied quickly, a note of panic in her voice. “No blood transfusion, please. Just some iron pills, if you have them.”

“Pills might help, but a transfusion would be more effective,” he insisted.

“I really can’t have a transfusion,” Valia replied firmly. “Just the pills will do.”

“Alright, I’ll bring some with me next week when I come to check on Mrs. Ava,” the doctor conceded.

I heard Valia thank him, followed by the sound of her hurried footsteps moving away. As I made my way back to the bathroom, I found myself wondering why she was so adamant about refusing the transfusion. Was there something she wasn’t telling us? And why hadn’t she mentioned her condition to Damon?

These thoughts lingered briefly before I felt the burning pain between my legs again. As I hovered over the toilet, I winced, the discomfort sharp and searing. Looking up, I saw the bathroom window, and on the glass, written in what appeared to be dried blood, were three chilling words:

I’M BACK,
TESSA.