I never expected to see him again—least of all here. The women’s health clinic breathed that familiar cocktail of antiseptic and stale coffee, a hum of soft conversation and the hiss of the espresso machine from the lobby alcove.
I never expected to see him again—certainly not here. The women’s health clinic smelled faintly of antiseptic and stale coffee, the walls plastered with posters about prenatal vitamins and fertility timelines. I sat in the waiting room, tapping the corner of my appointment slip against my knee, willing my name to appear on the screen. […]
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