17. Manoela Ferraz
1043 Words
The London cold seemed more intense that morning, but I knew it wasn't just the weather. It was the nervousness that left my hands icy and my stomach in a tight knot.
I was standing outside the café, my apron folded over my arm and my fingers shoved into the pockets of my worn-out coat. My legs swayed slightly, as if that could burn off the anxiety running through my body.
Then, the shiny black car appeared on the narrow street. It was too elegant, unlike any vehicle that had ever given me a ride. It stopped slowly in front of me, and my heart beat faster when the driver's door opened.
Ravi stepped out with the same impeccable posture I remembered, his dark wool coat and perfectly styled hair, as if the cold didn't dare ruffle anything about him. His golden eyes met mine, and for an instant, I forgot how to breathe.
"Good morning, Manu," he said with a slight smile, his voice low but warm. "Are you ready?"
I nodded, struggling to keep my composure.
"Good morning. I am."
He walked around the car and opened the passenger door with an elegant gesture. I hesitated for a second before getting in, feeling completely out of place on that soft leather seat, surrounded by the smell of a new car interior mixed with his woody cologne.
Ravi walked around and got in, adjusting his seatbelt with a quick movement.
"How was work today?" he asked, his eyes fixed on the street as he started the car.
"Tiring," I replied, pressing my apron against my lap. "But nothing out of the ordinary. And you?"
"The usual. Meetings, reports, more meetings..." He cast a brief glance at me before focusing on the traffic. "I imagine it's exhausting to be on your feet all day."
"Yeah, a little," I murmured, unsure how to keep the conversation going. "But I'm used to it."
We continued like that, exchanging comments about the weather—the cloudy sky, the constant cold—and small pleasantries, until I noticed we were leaving the city center and heading toward a more sophisticated area.
That's when I saw the imposing private clinic building, with large windows and an elegant façade in shades of white and gold. My stomach tightened.
"Ravi..." I started, but my voice almost failed me. "This clinic is..."
"One of the best," he completed, parking with the ease of someone who saw nothing extraordinary about it. "I want you and the baby to have the best possible care."
"I can't afford this," I said immediately, almost in a panic. "It's not necessary. I was already doing my prenatal care at the public hospital..."
He turned off the car and turned to me, his face serene, but his eyes gleaming with determination.
"Manu, I want to do this. It's not just about you. It's about our child."
"I know, but..." I looked away, struggling with the feeling of shame and wounded pride. "I don't want to depend on you."
"It's not about depending." His voice softened, but didn't lose its determination. "It's about me taking responsibility as a father. Let me do this."
For a moment, my throat closed up. I wanted to say no. I wanted to keep my world separate from his, but deep down, I knew I couldn't give my daughter everything she deserved on my own.
I sighed, defeated.
"Okay..."
His smile was almost imperceptible, but it was there, as if that "yes" was a small victory.
The clinic reception looked like something out of a movie. Velvet-upholstered armchairs, a small fountain with running water, and a smiling receptionist who greeted us kindly.
"Good morning, Miss Souza. This way, please," the woman said after we confirmed the appointment.
We sat side by side, and my hands trembled as I filled out the intake form. Ravi, beside me, was so calm it annoyed me. Or made me envious.
"Nervous?" he asked in a low voice.
"Very," I confessed, trying to control my racing heart.
He looked at me with an almost affectionate expression, but only said:
"Everything will be fine."
When my name was called, my entire body stiffened. I followed the nurse, with Ravi a few steps behind. We entered the elegant office, where a middle-aged doctor with a warm smile greeted us.
"So, this is your first appointment together?" the doctor asked, looking from one to the other.
"Yes," I murmured, feeling my cheeks flush.
The consultation continued with questions about my health, eating habits, and previous exams. Ravi remained attentive the whole time, asking specific questions about vitamins, possible risks, and what could be done to ensure the best for the baby.
There was something comforting about seeing his interest, but also strange. I wasn't used to someone caring so much.
Next, we were directed to the ultrasound room. I lay down on the table, my heart racing, and lifted my blouse as the doctor prepared the equipment.
"Ready to see the baby?" she asked with a smile.
Ravi positioned himself beside me, and I could feel his tension in the air. His fingers lightly brushed the edge of the table, as if he wanted to support me but didn't dare to touch.
When the sound of the heartbeat filled the room, something inside me broke. It was fast and strong, like a horse's gallop. My eyes filled with tears.
"That's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard," I whispered, unable to contain my emotion.
Ravi's eyes were fixed on the screen. His face, usually so controlled, showed a mix of shock, tenderness, and something deeper that I couldn't identify.
"My God..." he murmured, almost to himself. "It's real."
The doctor moved the device, showing the baby moving slightly.
"Here it is. Or she," she said with a smile.
"Is it still too early?" I asked, my voice choked.
"A little, but I believe that at the next appointment, we'll get to know this little one."
Ravi gripped the edge of the table tightly, his eyes still glued to the screen. There was something different about him, a connection that seemed to grow right there, before our eyes.
And for the first time since the beginning of everything, I felt less alone.
- Writer
