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Valentina's POV
The sound of the ticking clock seemed to echo faintly, yet it was all I could hear as I drifted into an agonizing daze.
What did he say? He must be mistaken. It couldn't be true.
"Mrs. Laurent." The monotone voice snapped me back to reality, and I blinked, staring at the man in the white coat.
"Mrs. Laurent, are you listening to me?" I blinked again, trying to focus on his words, but they seemed to slip through my mind like water through my fingers. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, as if everything was closing in around me.
Breathe, Valentina. Breathe.
"Repeat what you just said," I finally found my voice and demanded, but it was quieter than I intended-just barely above a whisper, yet sharp with a desperate edge I didn't recognize.
The doctor's eyes softened, but he didn't hesitate. "Mrs. Laurent, I'm afraid you have brain cancer. The prognosis is... very serious. You have only about a year to live."
A chill ran through me, the world shifting in a way I couldn't comprehend. His words echoed louder in my mind than the ticking of the clock.
"You're telling me... I'm dying?" I whispered, barely able to keep my voice steady.
He nodded solemnly. "Yes. The cancer has spread too far. Surgery isn't advisable in your case-it could do more harm than good. The best we can offer now is palliative care to make you as comfortable as possible."
The room spun as the weight of his words settled on my chest, suffocating me. Only a year. How could this be happening?
The signs-the signs I thought were pregnancy-were actually those of cancer?
"Is there really nothing that can be done? With all the advancements in medicine and technology, there has to be a cure-there should be!" I pleaded, my voice trembling as tears threatened to spill. Desperately, I searched the doctor's face for a glimmer of hope, but his silence was all the answer I needed.
"Mrs. Laurent, I advise you to come with your husband and get started-" I didn't wait for the rest of his words. I bolted for the door, my legs unsteady beneath me. The world spun, and for a moment, I almost collapsed, but I steadied myself, pushing through the dizziness. I managed to walk out of the consultation room, each step feeling heavier than the last.
I didn't know how I did it, but somehow, I made it into the backseat of the car. My heart hammered against my chest, and I could feel the driver's gaze on me, but I couldn't bring myself to look up. I didn't want to-not with the tears that kept falling despite my best efforts to keep them hidden.
"Are you okay, ma'am?" the driver asked, his voice soft with concern, but I was only able to shake my head, unable to form the words.
"Take me home, please," I whispered, my voice breaking as more tears spilled down my cheeks.
I could hear the car engine start, and as it began to move, I closed my eyes, trying to process the doctor's words. The throbbing pain in my head made it hard to focus. This morning, on my way to the hospital, I had been excited. I thought, after a year of grief from my miscarriage, I was finally pregnant. I had hoped for good news-something that might heal my relationship with Damien. But instead, I was told I had only a year to live, and I was slowly dying.
"Mrs. Laurent, we're here," the driver's voice broke through the silence, and I slowly opened my eyes, staring at the grand villa. Though lavish and filled with wealth, it felt cold-just like it had the day she returned.
I got out of the car and leaned against it, trying to steady myself. When I felt strong enough to walk, I made my way into the mansion. Mrs. Agatha, the housekeeper who had always been like a mother to me, bowed and gently took my coat from my shoulders.
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