Whispers of Deceit.

Chapter 7

By the time Monday arrives, I’m utterly drained. Yesterday, Jared was buried in paperwork, and I spent most of the day sorting out admin in my office. We barely crossed paths, which was fine by me. After the disaster of a dinner with our friends, solitude was exactly what I needed.

Today at noon, I have a phone appointment with the doctor to discuss starting contraception. After looking into all the options, I’ve settled on the pill. The alternatives didn’t exactly appeal to me. The coil requires a doctor’s visit for insertion, and according to my deep-dive into Google, it can sometimes be felt during sex by the male—not exactly ideal.

The injection requires a trip to the doctor every three months, which feels like a hassle, and I’m pretty sure Jared would notice. Then there’s the implant, which leaves a noticeable bruise and scar—basically an unavoidable red flag that I’m hiding something.

So, the pill it is. It’s discreet, easy to manage, and I can pick it up from the pharmacy without Jared suspecting a thing. I’ve got a pill organizer that holds my daily vitamins from Monday to Sunday, so I’ll just slip the pill in there and toss the packaging in a bin down the street. Problem solved. Jared will never know.

I step into the kitchen, craving another hit of caffeine to keep me going. As I shake Breeze’s food, I hear the soft thud of her paws racing across the floor, her excitement undeniable. She skids to a stop beside me, eyes wide and ears perked up. I can’t help but smile as I pour her food into the bowl, watching her dig in with pure joy.

I crouched down, giving her a quick scratch behind the ears. “You’ve got it so easy, don’t you?” I mutter, half to myself, half to her.

After a few moments, I straighten up and head back to my desk, the weight of what’s coming settling over me. The phone call I’m about to take feels heavier than it should—like a quiet act of betrayal I can’t quite shake. As much as I tell myself it’s just a formality, a part of me knows I’m hiding this from Jared, and the guilt sits like a knot in my chest.

I barely notice the phone vibrating beside me, too lost in the steady rhythm of my typing. The words on the screen blur as my phone buzzes again, pulling me back into the moment. I glance down. No Caller ID. My heart skips a beat.

For a second, I just stare at the name, hesitating, my finger hovering over the answer button. Finally, I swipe to answer, my voice barely audible.

“Hello?” I whisper, my throat tight.

“Hi, Natalia. This is Dr. Franklin. I wanted to talk about the contraceptive pill you inquired about. Is now a good time?”

My breath catches, and my eyes dart toward the kitchen, the empty doorway a constant reminder of Jared’s absence. He’s not due home for a few more hours, but paranoia grips me like a vice. My hand tightens around the phone.

“Yes,” I manage, trying to keep my voice steady. “Thank you for calling.”

The doctor’s tone is calm, professional. Too calm, considering the storm brewing inside me.

“We can get you started right away. It’s crucial to follow the instructions carefully to ensure its effectiveness.”

My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I steal another glance toward the door, irrational thoughts swirling through my mind. He won’t be home, not yet. But still... my pulse quickens.

“Right. And... it won’t affect anything if we’re... actively trying for a baby, will it?”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line. A long one. I can almost hear the doctor’s confusion, trying to make sense of my question. Who goes on birth control when they’re supposedly trying to get pregnant?