**The Clock is Ticking**
So what do we suggest, Doctor? Lucys voice trembled. Years of trying, tests, tearsand now, the final hurdle: a renowned professor with a reputation for blunt honesty.
What do you do? Live. Or… His gaze flicked from her to Alex. Find another partner. Youre nearly forty, love. The clocks ticking. You can still have a childjust likely not with him.
Professor Stones frankness was seen as a flaw by colleagues, cruelty by patients. But for Dr. Marcus Stone, it was the only mercy he knew. Hed watched too many women waste years chasing false hope, left with nothing by forty. He believed in cutting losses, no matter how painful.
You dont believe in miracles, then? Lucy asked. You think weve no chance at all?
Theres always a chance, Stone said flatly. But I trust statistics. And theyre ruthless. Better a bitter truth than a sweet lie that steals your last fertile years. Try new methods if you like, but the fact is, youre both healthy. Unexplained infertility often has psychological roots. Its your choice what to do with that.
Lucy had been warned about Dr. Stones brutal honesty. But hearing it herself was different.
Silence filled the car ride home.
The words *find another husband* hung between them like poison. Lucy studied Alexher partner through thick and thin. *Leave him? After all these years? After every shared hardship, every tear? For the faint hope of a child with someone else?* It wasnt worth it.
Maybe its punishment, Alex muttered. A sign. We spent years chasing money, never wanting kids…
Dont say that. We have each other, Lucy said. Truthfully, Im tired of trying. Lets just live. Were happy as we are. We always were.
Alex squeezed her hand.
Ten years togetherthey werent just husband and wife. They were co-authors of their success, splitting everything: from their first celebratory sandwich after a business win to sleepless nights drafting plans. Children never fit. Their *child* was their ambitionthe flat, the car, the country cottage.
After seeing Dr. Stone, Lucy let go. They adopted two cats (long delayed for a baby that never came), bought a cosy townhouse, and abandoned the desperate chase for parenthood. Fate knew best, they decided.
Then, eighteen months latera miracle. Two pink lines.
James was born. Lucy became the perfect mother, by-the-book. Alex buried himself in work, the model provider. From the outside, they were solida marriage that survived infertility, crowned by a late miracle. But even rocks crumble, not from quakes, but slow, seeping erosion.
Lucy was five years older. At twenty-two, Alex had been drawn to her drivetheir bond built on shared ambition. She led; he followed. Infertility united them, but left quiet sorrow. With James arrival, Lucy forgot Alex entirely. They stopped being lovers. Just Mum and Dad.
***
The fateful day was ordinarya routine check-up at the clinic. The corridor reeked of antiseptic, children wailing. Alex sat with James, lost in thought. Then the door opened.
*Her.*
A woman with a six-year-old boy. Not a beauty, but electric, restless. Their eyes met. Held. Just secondsenough.
Dad? You okay? James tugged his sleeve.
Alex startled. Fine, mate.
He stood, walked to the water fountain. Their eyes locked again. He spokejust a few words. A lightning strike. In an instant, his past burned away.
Her name was Olivia. They talked for an hour in that queuemarriages suffocating them, lives passing by, silent despair. Not attraction. *Recognition.*
Two weeks later, Alex came home late. Lucy waited with dinner.
Alex, Jamie missed you
He stood in the hall, still in his coat, face hollow yet alive.
Lucy. We need to talk.
Her stomach dropped. Whats wrong?
Ive met someone, he blurted, avoiding her eyes. And I realised… our whole life was a lie. A pretty, comfortable lie.
Lucy froze. 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, fatherbut I wasnt *alive.* Now… I am.
And me? Her tears fell. Our love? Our years? Jamie? Was none of it real? You *said* you loved me!
I thought I did, Alex said wearily. Turns out, it was habit. Duty. I cant pretend anymore. Ill always see Jamie.
He left. Slammed the door. Lucy sat at the table, cold dinner before her, the kitchen clock ticking.
*The clocks ticking, love.* An echo.
***
He was gone. Left everythinghome, family, past. Moved to Edinburgh with Olivia and her son, leaving Lucy with a shattered heart and a five-year-old asking why Daddy didnt tuck him in anymore.
The first months were hell. Lucy moved mechanicallyfeeding Jamie, crying into her pillow, raking over where her perfect life cracked. Anger, grief, self-pity twisted together.
Then one night, tucking Jamie in, she didnt say *Daddys working.* She told the truth: Daddy lives somewhere else now. But he loves you. Saying it freed her. Time to grow up.
Lucy cut her hair, went blonde, dug out her old degree, enrolled in a refresher course. The world, shrunken to playgrounds, expanded again.
There, she met Simonher old schoolmate. The one whod passed her silly notes. His marriage had ended; his daughter lived with her mum. They met for coffee, walks, reminiscingno grand romance, just easy companionship. For the first time, Lucy could be *herself.* Tired. Flawed. No mask.
***
Their wedding was quietno dress, no fuss. Just a registry office, then a countryside trip with Jamie.
Simon never tried to replace Jamies dad. He was just *there.* Helping with homework, fixing bikes, teaching him to fish. No drama. Slowly, Lucys wound healed.
At forty-three, when she realised she was pregnant, she feared telling Simonbraced for *the clocks ticking.* But he just held her. Well manage. Together.
The birth was hard. The midwife, kind-eyed, smiled as their 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.
Hello. You look well. Heard lifes good.
It is, she said simply. Truly.
That afternoon, on impulse, she looked up the clinic. Dr. Marcus Stone still practised. A legend.
She walked into *that* office. Hed barely aged.
Dr. Stone, you wont remember me. Years ago, you told me to leave my husband if I wanted a child.
He tensed, ready for anger.
I came to thank you, Lucy smiledno bitterness left. Your truth broke my world. I didnt listen, but life found its way. Just… not the straight path you suggested. Thank you.
Stone nodded silently. After she left, he stared out the window. Of course he didnt recall her. In forty years, thousands had sat where she had. He remembered only diagnoses, stubborn hope.
Outside, Lucy took her daughters hand. The little girl chattered brightly. For the first time in years, *the clocks ticking* brought no dreadjust quiet gratitude for both her lives. The one with Alex. The one with Simon. Both necessary. Both *hers. The sun warmed her face as they walked down the street, her daughters laughter tinkling like wind chimes. Lucy squeezed the small hand in hers, breathing in the crisp air, feeling the weight of years settle not as regret, but as grace. She didnt look back. She carried everything she needed.
