The clock is ticking.
«What should we do, doctor?» Lucys voice trembled. Years of attempts, tests, and tears had led them hereto the final hurdle, a renowned professor with a formidable reputation.
«What should you do? Live. Or…» His gaze flicked from her to Alex. «…find another partner. You, my dear, are nearly forty. The clock is ticking. You can still have children. Just likely not with him.»
Professor Steins bluntness was seen as a flaw by colleagues and cruelty by patients. But for Dr. Mark Stein, it was the only form of mercy he could offer. Hed watched too many women waste years on futile hopes, left with nothing by forty. He believed in cutting losses, no matter how painful.
«You dont believe in miracles, doctor?» Lucy asked. «You think we have no chance at all?»
«Theres always a chance. But I believe in statistics,» Stein replied sharply. «And theyre merciless. Better a bitter truth than a sweet lie that steals your last years. Try new treatments if you wish, but the fact isyoure both healthy. Idiopathic infertility often has psychological roots. The choice is yours.»
Lucy had been warned about Dr. Steins brutal honesty. But hearing it firsthand was different.
Silence filled the car ride home.
The words «find another husband» hung in the air like poison. Lucy studied Alexthe man shed weathered every storm with. Leave him? After all these years? After building a life, a business, a home together? For the faint hope of a child with someone else? It wasnt worth it.
«Maybe its karma,» Alex muttered. «A sign. We spent years chasing money, never thinking about kids…»
«Dont say that,» Lucy whispered. «We have our love. Honestly, Im tired of trying. Maybe we were meant to be happy just us two.»
Alex squeezed her hand.
For ten years, theyd been more than husband and wifethey were partners, co-authors of their success. No time for children; their business was their baby. The flat, the car, the cottageall fruits of their hard work.
After seeing Dr. Stein, Lucy let go. They adopted two catslong delayed for a child that never camebought a cosy house in the suburbs, and abandoned the desperate pursuit of parenthood. Fate knew best, they decided.
Then, eighteen months latera miracle. Two pink lines.
Andrew was born. Lucy embraced motherhood perfectly, by the book. Alex buried himself in work, the model father and provider. To outsiders, they were the ideal couple. Their marriage had weathered infertility and been crowned with a late miracle. But even the strongest rocks crumblenot from quakes, but from slow, relentless erosion.
Lucy was five years older. At twenty-two, Alex had fallen for her drive, their bond built on respect and shared goals. Shed always led. Years of failed attempts had drawn them closer but left a quiet ache. With Andrews birth, Lucy lost interest in Alex. They became parents, not partners.
The fateful day was unremarkablea routine clinic visit. A corridor reeking of antiseptic and echoing with childrens cries. Alex sat with Andrew, lost in thought. Then the door opened, and she walked in. A woman with a six-year-old boy. Not stunning, but alive with restless energy. Their eyes met. Neither looked away. Seconds stretched.
«Dad?» Andrew tugged his sleeve.
Alex startled. «Nothing, son.»
He moved to the water fountain. Their eyes met again. He spoke. Just a few words. But it was lightninga silent strike that burned his past to ashes.
Her name was Olivia. They talked for an hour in that waiting room. About stifling marriages, lives slipping by, quiet despair. Not just attractionrecognition. A flash illuminating every lie theyd lived.
Two weeks later, Alex came home late. Lucy waited with dinner.
«Alex, weve missed you…»
He entered, still in his coat, face gaunt yet alight.
«Lucy, we need to talk.»
She froze. «Whats wrong?»
«Ive met someone,» he blurted, avoiding her eyes. «And I realised… our whole life was a lie. A pretty, convenient lie.»
Lucy swayed. The room spun.
«Whatwhat are you saying? We have a family! A son!»
«I havent breathed in years!» His voice cracked. «I functioned. Played the perfect husband, father. But I wasnt alive. Now… now I am.»
«And me?» Tears streaked her face. «Our love? Our years? Andrew? Was none of it real?»
«I thought it was love,» Alex said wearily. «It was habit. Shared duty. I cant pretend anymore. Ill always be Andrews father.»
He left. Lucy sat at the table, the kitchen clock ticking mockingly.
***
He abandoned everythinghome, family, his old life. Moved to Manchester with Olivia and her son, leaving Lucy with a shattered heart and a confused five-year-old.
The first months were hell. Lucy moved mechanicallyfeeding Andrew, putting him to bed, crying into her pillow at night. Anger, despair, self-pity twisted together.
Then one evening, tucking Andrew in, she didnt say «Daddys working.» She told the truth: «Daddy will live somewhere else. But he loves you.» Saying it healed her too. Time to grow up.
Lucy cut her hair, went blonde, dug out her old degree, and enrolled in refresher courses. The world, shrunk to playgrounds, expanded again.
There, she met Jamesan old schoolmate. The one whod passed her silly notes. His marriage had ended; his daughter lived with her mum. They met for coffee, walks, reminiscing. No grand romance, just easy companionship. For the first time in years, Lucy felt like herselfimperfect, unpolished.
Their wedding was quietno fuss, just a registry office and a countryside trip with Andrew. James didnt try to replace Alex. He helped with homework, fixed bikes, took Andrew fishing. Slowly, Lucys wounds healed.
At forty-three, pregnant again, she feared telling Jamesexpecting «clocks ticking» comments. He just held her. «Well manage. Together.»
The birth was hard. The midwife, kind and sharp-eyed, smiled as the healthy girl arrived.
«Second baby after forty? Brave woman.»
«Not brave,» Lucy murmured, gazing at her daughter. «Just… with the right man.»
***
Three years later, dropping her daughter at nursery, Lucy bumped into Alex. He smiled.
«You look wonderful. Heard lifes treating you well.»
«It is,» she said simply. «Truly.»
That evening, on impulse, she searched online for Dr. Mark Stein. Still practising. A legend.
She walked into his office. He barely recognised her.
«Doctor, years ago you told me to leave my husband to have a child. I came to thank you.»
He braced for anger.
«Your truth upended my world. I didnt listen, but life found its way. Thank you.»
Stein nodded silently. After she left, he stared out the window. He didnt remember her. Forty years meant thousands of faces. Only diagnoses stuck.
Outside, Lucy took her daughters hand. For the first time in years, «the clock is ticking» brought no dreadjust quiet gratitude for both her lives. The one with Alex, and this one, real and whole, built with James. Both had shaped her. Both were necessary.
