The One

The Routine

 Every day unfolded in a monotonous rhythm—Leo would arrive after finishing his business, a faithful companion to her solitary evenings. One night, as she chewed on a dark chocolate-coated pickle, eyes fixated on the flickering TV screen, she suddenly broke the silence.

"Leo, don't you feel bored accompanying me?"

"No, why?" he replied, a hint of confusion lacing his tone.

"Nothing, just asking," she shrugged, her attention drifting back to the screen.

As night descended, Karol would see him at the front door, exchanging customary good nights and promises of tomorrow. Each evening, she retreated to her bedroom, surrendering to peaceful slumber. But tonight was different.

With a whirlwind of activity, she organised her belongings, knowing she had less than 24 hours to depart. Just as she zipped up her luggage, her phone blared like a siren, jolting her from her thoughts. Cursing under her breath, she answered.

"Hello?"

"Get out from there now. He's coming to get you."

"How far is he?" her voice was sharp, urgency coursing through her as she continued her frantic packing, casting wary glances over her shoulder. Years of practice had honed her ability to escape with minimal belongings, tossing essentials into her luggage with remarkable speed.

"Around 30–45 minutes, depending on the driver's speed."

"Got it. Buy my plane ticket now."

She snatched her food, carefully packing it into a zip lock bag—a life essential—before shoving it into her handbag.

"Done. I've emailed it to you."

"Get someone down here to arrange my checkout," she instructed, now poised at the door, her heart racing as she prepared to leave the stocked apartment behind.

"Done."

"Thank you! What would I have done without you?" she muttered before hanging up, leaving the keys on the kitchen table as she stepped out.

"Fuck!" she exclaimed loudly in the lift, frustration bubbling over.

As soon as the lift chimed, she rushed towards her car, her pregnancy weighing heavily against her urgency. "Why the fuck is he here now!" she shouted, zooming out from the apartment basement, her mind a tempest of panic.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Each breath was laced with dread as she manoeuvred through traffic, utilising the VVIP lane to reach the airport, determination propelling her to board the plane, desperate to escape without a shred of remorse.

The next morning, in a foreign land, she video-called her parents, her heart yearning for home.

"So now you're okay, right?" Anna, her mother, asked for the umpteenth time.

"Yes, Mummy, I'm okay. Your grandchild is okay too, and yes, Daddy, I can hear your thoughts," she quipped, a hint of lightness in her tone.

"We just want you both to be safe and sound," her father chimed in.

"If you find it hard to be alone there, do come back, okay, baby girl?"

"We promise we will put up a barricade 100 metres from our house," Anna joked, though the concern in her voice was palpable.

"Don't worry, I'll come home—just not now, okay?" she reassured, though her heart felt heavy with the distance.

"Okay, baby girl. We respect your decision, but if you need anything—anything at all—just don't forget to call us, okay?"

"Of course, Mummy, Daddy, I will always remember. I've got to go now, I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay, baby girl, bye, we love you both," they chorused.

"Bye, we love you too," she whispered, the call ending abruptly.

As the screen dimmed, the floodgates opened, and she couldn't suppress the tears any longer. She missed her parents, her family, their warmth wrapping around her like a cherished blanket.

The day morphed into an emotional blur—she woke, ate, felt hopeless, raged against herself, and wept for hours until sleep claimed her once more. The cycle continued, dragging on as shadows deepened under her eyes, and hunger gnawed at her stomach. When night fell, she surrendered to takeaways to quell her hunger before retreating into slumber.

Each day blurred into the next as she immersed herself in work, directing her focus towards the new branch opening at Filtarn State. The whirlwind of demands kept her busy, reviewing every detail necessary for a successful launch. Weeks passed, and her third trimester crept towards an inevitable conclusion.

Then, amidst the chaos, her phone rang, interrupting her thoughts.

"Hello?" she answered, not glancing at the Caller ID.

"Karol, where are you?" The voice at the other end was urgent, yet exasperated—Leo.

"Somewhere safe, why?"

"Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you, but it's all been voicemail."

"I'm on this travel around the world before my PhD thingy, remember? Are you okay, Leo?"

"I'm okay, it's just that... can you please come home?" His voice was filled with an anxious plea.

"Leo, I will come back home, just not now, okay? Stay calm and collected."

"Can you tell me where you are right now so I can visit you?"

"Sorry, but no," she replied firmly, a resolve threading through her voice.

"Okay," Leo conceded, a weight of sadness suffusing his tone.

"Let's chat when I have time, okay Leo? I've got to go now. Bye."

"Okay, Karol, bye and take care."

With a long exhale, she looked outside the window, embracing a moment of solitude before her baby started tumbling, playing havoc with her bladder. She gently rubbed her belly, trying to soothe her over-active child, though it did little to calm the whirlwind encircling her heart.

As the spectres of anxiety began to haunt her, Karol thought she was simply experiencing the dreaded fake Braxton Hicks contractions. The sensations—like mild menstrual cramps or an unwelcome tightening in her stomach—came and went, teasing her with unease. Through the long, torturous night, she absent-mindedly rubbed circles on her belly, desperate to soothe not just the physical discomfort but the emotional tempest swirling inside her. Isolation and helplessness wrapped around her like a heavy blanket, and, with a tremulous sigh, she decided it was time to call her sister.

"Yo sissy, good morning!" she chirped, attempting to disguise her struggle with the upbeat tone of a caffeinated parrot.

"Why in the world do you call me in the middle of the night?" Sharon's voice echoed sleepily through the phone, a sound like clean sheets being torn apart.

"It's past 5 am, dude! This isn't the Middle Ages! But before you drift back to dreamland, I need you to promise me you'll call when you're at work."

She continued her soothing circular motions over her bump.

"This better be a big deal, or else I might just have to hunt you down for disturbing my precious sleep," Sharon grumbled, her usual indignation only making her sister smile.

"Bye, love you," she murmured before ending the call, her heart swelling with affection for the sister who was all too fond of her beauty sleep.

"This will definitely be huge, and she'll be in shock the moment she sees you, my little prince or princess," she whispered, glancing down at her belly as the baby wriggled in response as if orchestrating its own little dance of excitement.