Reincarnated Soul

Eight : Forbidden Fruit

Cling.

The noise echoed in the stillness, jolting me out of my thoughts. My heart skipped a beat, and I froze, staring at the source of the sound.

I looked down at the floor, my vision still blurred by tears, and noticed a tiny key glinting under the light. Where did it come from? I turned the frame of our picture over in my hands and noticed a small compartment I’d never seen before. Could the key have come from here?

With trembling fingers, I picked up the key and stared at it. “What is this for?” I murmured, confusion and curiosity battling within me. My gaze swept the room, searching for anything it might open. It was so unfamiliar, a mystery I hadn’t even known existed.

I tried the key in the drawer, the cabinet, and even the front door, but nothing fit. Determined, I searched every corner of the apartment until something caught my eye—a faint shadow beneath the bed. Bending down, I saw it clearly for the first time: a small wooden chest.

My heart raced as I pulled it out. How had I never noticed this before? I examined it carefully, my fingers brushing over the worn wood, until I found a tiny padlock securing it. Without hesitation, I slid the key into the lock.

It fits perfectly.

I paused for a moment, almost afraid to open it. What could possibly be inside? Slowly, I lifted the lid.

My breath caught. Inside the chest was a bundle of money—more than I had ever expected to see. Nestled among the neatly stacked bills was a folded note. My hands trembled as I opened it.

“For Our Wedding.”

Fresh tears cascaded down my cheeks as I clutched the note to my chest. “Oh, Dylan,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “You’re full of surprises. Even now, even after you’re gone, you still manage to amaze me.”

The realization hit me like a wave. He had been saving this, quietly and diligently, for our future together—for a day that would never come. He had been preparing for our dreams, even as life had other plans.

“I love you so much, Dylan,” I choked out, the ache in my heart mingling with bittersweet gratitude. “I’m so lucky to have had a man like you in my life.”

I gently closed the chest and slid it back under the bed. The burden of rent that had weighed so heavily on me just moments ago now seemed lighter, as if Dylan had found a way to take care of me even now. But I knew I couldn’t squander this gift. I had to honor him, to make something of this.

Determined, I wiped my tears and reached for my notebook on the bedside table. I sat down, flipping to a fresh page, and began brainstorming ideas for a business. I needed to make this money grow, to build a future Dylan would have been proud of.

But before I could even finish writing a word, a wave of dizziness washed over me. My stomach churned uncomfortably, and a sudden, overwhelming urge to vomit gripped me. Covering my mouth, I leaned forward, trying to steady myself as confusion and discomfort settled in.

Something was happening. Something I didn’t yet understand.

I staggered to the bathroom, clutching my stomach as a wave of nausea overwhelmed me. Moments later, I was bent over the sink, vomiting uncontrollably. My breath came in shallow gasps as I gripped the edge of the counter, trying to steady myself. What was happening to me?

My thoughts raced as I wiped my mouth with trembling hands. I felt sick—so sick it was frightening. Could it be something I ate? The only thing I had eaten recently was the pasta my neighbor had given me. I never ate food like that; as a changed vampire, I’d always relied on pig’s blood to sustain me. But when I saw that pasta, an inexplicable craving had overtaken me. I’d devoured it, savoring every bite, but now... Could I have been allergic to something in it?

Weak and disoriented, I stumbled out of the bathroom, my legs barely supporting me. My energy felt completely drained, leaving me with a hollowness that was unfamiliar and terrifying. This shouldn’t be happening. I was a vampire. I wasn’t supposed to feel weak like this.

Maybe medicine would help? Dylan used to buy medicine when he wasn’t feeling well. But would human remedies even work on me? What if they made things worse? The thought sent a shiver down my spine, but the unbearable discomfort left me with no choice.

I opened the small chest and took out a little money, my movements sluggish. I left the apartment and made my way to the nearest pharmacy. Each step felt heavier than the last, but I pushed forward, determined to find some relief.

Inside, the bright lights of the pharmacy made me squint. The shelves were lined with rows upon rows of medicines, all unfamiliar. I wandered aimlessly, scanning the labels in vain, hoping to recognize something—anything—that Dylan had used before. My chest tightened as panic set in. What was I even looking for?

“Hello, ma’am. Can I help you?”

The voice startled me. I turned to see a pharmacist standing nearby, her kind smile tinged with concern. Her question caught me off guard, and I felt a wave of embarrassment.

She must have noticed me struggling.

“Uh... yes? I mean, I think so…” I stammered, feeling my cheeks flush. My thoughts jumbled as I tried to explain. “I’ve been feeling sick all morning. I, uh, I vomited a few times after eating pasta. Which... I don’t usually eat. I mean, I’ve never really eaten pasta before, but I craved it, and now…” My words tumbled out in a rush, and I realized too late how ridiculous I sounded. Why had I mentioned the pasta?

I cleared my throat, trying to steady myself, but my nerves were getting the better of me. My hands gripped the counter as I avoided the pharmacist’s gaze, hoping she wouldn’t ask too many questions.

“Ughm… do you have any idea what medicine I should take?” I asked, feeling a bit unsure of myself. For some reason, when I asked, the pharmacist’s lips twitched into a small smile.

“Ma’am, may I ask if you've checked whether the pasta might be spoiled? Any unusual odor?”

“I’m sure it’s fine, it’s freshly cooked… by my neighbor.”

“Hmm… I’m sorry if this is a bit personal, but, do you have a boyfriend?”

“What? Wait—why? What does he have to do with this? He’s gone and—”

“Okay, okay, just take a deep breath. I’m only trying to figure out what's going on with you. It seems you had a boyfriend, so, based on that... I don’t think you need any medicine,” she said, her tone calm, but with a playful edge creeping in.

I blinked, utterly confused. “What? Why? I really don’t feel well right now, and... I’m not a vampire.”

And then she laughed. It was light, almost knowing, but it only made my confusion grow.

Did I say something wrong? Was she mocking me? Why did she laugh? Was she onto me? Did she know I wasn’t human? Panic tightened in my chest, squeezing the breath out of me. If she suspected anything, I was screwed. She’d probably scream and accuse me of wanting to suck her blood. Well, maybe I did want to, but I could control it. I could. But right now, I didn’t even crave blood—not even pig’s blood.

“Ma’am,” she said, still smiling. “Have you considered checking if you're pregnant? From what you’ve described, those symptoms could point to pregnancy.”

What?

The world around me seemed to blur for a moment as I tried to process her words. I felt my heart race, and a wave of heat flushed through me. Could it be? Was I… pregnant?

I hadn’t even thought of it. The idea had never crossed my mind, but then I remembered that night with Dylan. The passion, the love. Could it have happened? Could I be carrying our child? The thought sent a whirlwind of emotions crashing through me—hope, fear, disbelief.

“D-do you think so?” I stammered, my voice barely a whisper.

“Yes, ma’am,” the pharmacist replied gently. “I can give you a pregnancy test, if you’d like. It’ll confirm it.”

“I’ll buy one,” I said, my voice a little firmer now, though my hands trembled. I wasn’t sure what I was hoping for, but the idea of holding a piece of Dylan in me—a part of him that could never be taken away—made my heart ache with longing.

–

I walked home, the pregnancy test tightly clutched in my hand, my heart pounding with every step. This was all so new to me—something humans use to determine if they’re pregnant.

In the magical forest, we had no such thing. The only way to know was through old rituals, a special herbal concoction, or a spell cast by a trusted witch or healer. I remembered how, in my world, certain herbs were burned, and their smoke would take on a specific color, signaling whether one was carrying a child. But here, in this unfamiliar world, this little plastic device seemed to hold all the answers.

The anticipation swirled in my chest, a mixture of nerves and excitement. This was not how we did things where I came from, but something about it felt right. It felt like a step into a new life, one I hadn't expected, but was now desperate to understand.

I read the instructions carefully. Each step seemed simple enough, but still, I couldn’t shake the nervous flutter in my stomach. I had to place a few droplets of my urine into a small hole on the test and then wait. Wait for the result. The instructions were clear: one line meant I wasn’t pregnant. Two lines meant I was.

My hands trembled slightly as I read over the steps. It felt surreal. This could change everything. Could I really be carrying Dylan’s child? I exhaled sharply, pushing the thoughts aside. No, I needed to focus.

I headed to the bathroom, my steps heavy, each one bringing me closer to the answer that could change everything. My heart pounded in my chest as I followed the procedure, my hands trembling slightly, unsure if I was doing it right. My mind raced, a thousand thoughts crashing together, each one drowning the other. I placed the test down, and then... I waited.

The seconds dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity. The quiet tick of time was deafening, each passing moment stretching, painfully slow. My breath quickened as I stared at the test, willing it to reveal the truth, as if my gaze could somehow make the answer appear faster. My palms were clammy, and my nerves were tight in my chest.

I waited…

And waited…

The minutes felt like hours, each second carrying a weight that pressed against me. Maybe it would be better if Dylan was here with me right now as we wait for this moment. However, I am alone, I have to do this alone.

My heart hammered, my pulse racing in my throat. Every breath was a struggle, each one heavier than the last, and still, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the test, holding on to that fragile hope, that desperate need for an answer.

And then, finally, the first line appeared. I froze.

My heart stuttered in my chest. Was that it? Was that the answer I’d been dreading, or hoping for?

But then… another line. Two lines.

I couldn’t breathe. My vision blurred as I stared at them, the truth sinking in slowly, painfully. The world around me seemed to pause, and I heard nothing but the pounding of my own heart.

“I’m pregnant.”