Michael had already left for work.
I sat on the edge of the bed, breathing slowly until the pain eased.
Then I looked at myself in the mirror.
My abdomen was visibly swollen. My face looked tired, and there were dark circles beneath my eyes.
I was thirty-eight years old.
I had spent eighteen years being afraid to ask a doctor a question about my own body.
I couldn’t continue living that way.
I took the money I had secretly saved from our grocery budget and placed it inside my handbag. I put on a loose dress, drove to the nearest medical clinic, and asked for the first available appointment.
I didn’t tell Michael.
For the first time in eighteen years, I made a decision without asking for his permission.
And that decision changed everything.
Dr. Emily Wilson was a woman in her early fifties, with silver beginning to show in her dark hair and a calm voice that made me feel less frightened.
