Chapter 4: Olivia's Loneliness and the Doctor's Appointment

The first dawn light sneaked between the curtain chinks and striped Olivia's face. She moved to extend her hand to the other side of the bed, only to meet a cold, empty space. Reality crashed over her with wave force; she squeezed her eyes tight shut, willing herself back into the dream where Nathan's arms were around her. The dream then faded, and Olivia was left all alone. She sat up slowly, running a hand through her tousled hair. The house was silent except for the hum of early morning traffic. Olivia swung her legs to the side and then stood to her feet. There was work that needed catching up on—commissions that were due. Self-pity was a luxury she couldn't afford. Olivia entered her studio, bathed in soft morning light, to try to lose herself in her art. Facing a large canvas with a brush in her hand, she was willing for the colors to flow from her mind and out of the painting. But every stroke felt forced; the colors were just a little off. "Come on, Liv," she muttered, tightening up with growing frustration. "Focus." But her thoughts kept drifting back to Nathan. The sound of his laugh, the way his eyes wrinkled at the corners when he smiled, the touch of his hand on the small of her back. A pang of guilt wriggled its way through her middle, but it couldn't dispel the heat that flushed her at the thought alone. A blob of red paint dribbled onto the floor, jerking Olivia out of her reverie. "Damn it," she hissed, reaching for a rag to mop up the mess. As she scrubbed at the stain, tears of frustration prickled at her eyes. What was she doing? She was risking everything for stolen moments that had started to leave her feeling more alone than ever. But even as the thought formed, Olivia knew it wasn't true. What she shared with Nathan wasn't just some tawdry affair. It was real—deep—and it made her feel alive in a way she hadn't in years. Her reverie was interrupted by the chirping of her phone. A reminder flashed across the screen: "Dr. Appointment, 2 PM." Olivia's gut squeezed. She'd almost forgotten about the check-up. Probably nothing—a routine visit. However, something at the back of her mind, a nagging voice, told her otherwise. The minutes crept by, and each seemed very long, like stretched taffy, while Olivia waited. She had tried painting, reading—anything—to get her mind off of things, but they just kept being pulled back to the same obsessive thoughts. It was time to leave. The ride to the doctor's was rather an indiscriminate blur of scenery; she then found herself sitting on the examination table, the paper crinkling under her as she shifted nervously. Dr. Patel entered, glowing with a friendly smile. "Olivia, nice to see you. How have you been feeling?" Olivia smiled back, rather forced. "Fine, mostly. Just a little tired lately." She nodded, scribbling something on her chart. "Any other symptoms? Headaches, dizziness, difficulty with weight gain?" Olivia hesitated. Now that she thought about it, she had been feeling off lately. More than just the stress of her secret relationship. "I've had some headaches," she admitted. "And I guess I have lost a little weight. But that's probably just stress, right?" Dr. Patel's face was impassive as she went on examining me. "It could be," she said indifferently. "But I'd like to run some tests, just to be sure." Olivia's heart picked up. "Tests? What kind of tests?" "Just some routine bloodwork, and I'd like to schedule you for an MRI," Dr. Patel said, her voice scrupulously neutral. "It's probably nothing to worry about, but it's better to be thorough." All of a sudden, the rest of the appointment blurred. Olivia nodded mechanically to hear what he said about the tests, her mind whirling with possibilities, each one scaring her more than the last one. As Olivia left the office, it was as if she felt the floor giving way beneath her feet. She fumbled at her phone, hovering over Nathan's number. There was nothing she wanted more than to hear his voice and feel his presence for comfort. Yet she couldn't call him. Not now, not like this. Whatever was happening, she had to face it on her own. Olivia drove home in a daze, the city passing by her window a complete blur of color and shape. She found herself pulling into the driveway with hardly any memory of how she had actually gotten there. The house inside seemed huge and hollow. Olivia wandered from room to room as if a ghost were in her own home until she finally landed in her studio, staring at the unfinished painting from that morning. The colors on the canvas seemed more vibrant now, and the strokes were more pressing. The whirls of paint appeared to open up Olivia's life—the passion and the guilt, love and fear—all in a convoluted dance. Taking a brush, she began to paint without thinking about it. She let her hand guide itself across the surface, building layers and textures to flesh out the canvas. As Olivia labored, calm washed over her. Whatever went down next, she was going to be ready to roll. Hours slid by, and the sun outside began to wane into dusk. Olivia stepped further back from her work and saw that it portrayed something raw and very emotional—something no picture previously painted had ever depicted for her. It held beauty, but also terror. Like love, she thought. Her phone buzzed, making her jump. It was a text from Nathan: "Thinking of you. Dinner tomorrow?" Olivia stared at the message, her heart stinging with desire and fear. She wanted to say yes, to lose herself in Nathan's arms, and to forget all about doctor's appointments, tests, and the uncertain future at its biggest. But she couldn't. Not yet. Not until she knew precisely what she was up against. Olivia's fingers trembled as she typed out her reply: "I can't tomorrow. Raincheck? " She hit send before she could change her mind. Then she sank to the floor, back against the wall, and let the first tears fall. Olivia wrapped her arms around herself, wishing they were Nathan's. In the fading light of her studio, amidst all its colorful artistry, sat Olivia Greene—alone with thoughts caught between the life she was leading and the life she desired, wondering if someday she would be able to find a resolution for each.