Cecilia huffed as she removed her headphones and slumped her head down on the desk. Her tummy hurt.

She wasn’t a stranger to that kind of discomfort, especially as the day dragged on. A delayed but recurrent regret of hers was taking her lactose intolerance as a mere suggestion. Today though, she’d indulged in an oat milk mocha, so that couldn’t be the issue now. Her psychiatrist had switched her over to Veltran, which often left her appetite in disarray. The pangs of hunger came at unpredictable times, and a fruit smoothie was the best excuse for a meal she had all day. So, it wasn’t odd that her internal ecosystem wasn’t perfectly balanced, but still, she felt uneasy. This time, it wasn’t just the physical pain, but the hollow feeling in her gut that accompanied it. Something subtle indicated that this time, something was actually wrong with her.

Cecilia cleared her desk, sending the remnants of a Coke, orange juice, and the mocha down her throat. The drinks mingled hesitantly against the persistent twisting feeling in her abdomen—a feeling that made it difficult to plaster a pleasant expression on her face. Not that anyone was looking; her colleagues were mostly glued to their screens. She envied their ability to focus.

As she headed out, though, John and Virat stood at the end of the hallway, gossiping about their boss’s less-than-deserved promotion. Cecilia passed the two men, both seniors at work, and noticed a pause in the conversation, broken by an eruption of malicious laughter. Were they snickering at her for leaving so early? For good measure, she pressed a hand against her side to signal her ill state. Eager to escape her colleagues, she hurried down the stairs toward the parking garage—only slowing down when she felt another sharp twinge in her side.

It was time for some real food. Pulling into the drive-thru of her favorite small chain, Cecilia skimmed the menu as a gruff voice rattled from the speaker: “What can I get for you today?”

“Can I get a chicken sandwich and a medium—no, large—fries?”

Okay, it wasn’t the realest food out there, but it was more nutritionally balanced than anything else she’d eaten today. Besides, she wanted some comfort food that would go down easy.

“Will that be all?”

“Actually, can I also get a hazelnut cold brew with some cream on top?” It was Wednesday after all, and she needed a sweet treat to get her through the rest of the week. Plus, she deserved an extra one for enduring her tummy ache.

“What size?”

“What? Oh, um, can you do a large?”

 “Fine.” He snippily repeated the order back to her, and his curtness carved a small pit in Cecilia’s gut. Was he judging her for getting the largest size of everything? Or perhaps for all of her indecision? “Did you want anything else, ma’am?” the gruff voice droned on. She meekly confirmed her order and drove forward to meet an empty window.

She waited at the window for seven minutes, the latter half of which she spent chiding herself for overwhelming the employee with a massive order. When it was finally ready, she accepted her items one-by-one, avoiding eye contact with the employee.

“Apologies for the wait, ma’am. Our manager just quit and I’m the only one working.” The gruff voice now had a gentle, bearded face that offered a tired smile. “Have a nice day!”

Cecilia, taken aback by the pleasantry, just nodded her head at him and drove off.

At a red light, she hastily chugged her entire cold brew in three gulps and banished the cup to her passenger-side floor, where it rattled around at every turn. The newest onslaught of caffeine zipped through her bloodstream like a swarm of a thousand bees. She jittered, struggling to keep her foot steady on the accelerator, but it wasn’t just the sweet, nutty flavor that made enduring the jitters worth it. She’d become dependent on caffeine to keep her regular. Ah yes, she was almost home, and some more time on the throne today would surely be all she needed to get everything sorted out down there.

A few hours and many YouTube videos watched in the bathroom later, though, the pain had only mellowed minimally. Having a hard time digging deeper into her discomfort, she stood hunched at the sink, leaned against the counter, and examined her own face in the mirror. A faint but stubborn crease planted itself between her eyebrows as she cycled through several pained expressions. She hadn’t noticed the line before. Was it a harbinger of aging, or her inability to muster a fully straight face through the torment? The ache seemed to move around, somehow sharp and dull at the same time. If she focused on it too much, trying to pinpoint the epicenter, it elusively subsided. On top of the tummy ache, she also felt a dull tension settling into her head. This was her final cue to go and lie down.

As she laid under her covers—keeping one hand free to shovel cold fries into her mouth—she made a note of the chronic abdomen pain. Her doctor maintained a frustrating tendency to blame everything on her menstrual cycle, even though she knew some of her medication gave her gnarly side effects. Then again, according to her calendar, her period was due tomorrow. Usually, a characteristic soreness concentrated in her lower back ushered in her time of the month. However, today’s pain seemed to seize her entire midsection and kept her much more restless than her routine pre-menstrual symptoms. But maybe Dr. Woods was right this time. Maybe everything was fine.

Satisfied enough with this hypothesis, Cecilia cocooned herself further into her blankets and turned out the light.

By morning, Cecilia forgot all about her abdominal predicament, and her first thought upon awaking was dread over the fast-approaching presentation she was supposed to lead at work. That was, until she kicked off her covers and stood up. Immediately, a wave of nausea overcame her, taking her by surprise. Cecilia stood by her bed, pondering. Were the fries from yesterday spoiled? Maybe greasy food—and a lot of it, too—so late in the day hadn’t been the best idea. She hadn’t even touched the sandwich, which was now in the bin. No other possible offenders came to her mind. She reached for the glass on her bedside and attempted to take a sip of water, but another bout of nausea fought back, denying it entrance.

Cecilia gingerly sat down on her bed. As she pressed around her abdomen, she closed her eyes. Currently, she considered the pain dull, though it throbbed a little bit. Definitely concentrated on her right side. Oh God, what if it was appendicitis? Was this worth a trip to the ER? She wasn’t in pain, noticeably less so than yesterday, but what if the discomfort was an omen of something much worse? Cecilia had half the mind to drive herself to the hospital. Instead, seeking a distraction, she called her boyfriend, Max, but, as expected, it went to voicemail. Max had been away for six weeks visiting his family in Japan, and the time difference made calling difficult. Frustrated, she threw herself back onto the bed. Her tummy predictably revolted against the sudden action by releasing another sharp jolt of pain.

She hugged one knee, welcoming the comforting pressure on her side. With her free hand, she began to consult Dr. Google. Tummy ache. Indigestion, obviously. Kidney stones. Crohn’s Disease. Yep, possibly appendicitis too, but, if that were the case, the pain would apparently be much, much worse.

The plethora of horrifying options prompted Cecilia to open a new tab before going too deep down the rabbit hole. She decided to narrow her search by adding today’s latest symptom. Tummy ache and nausea. Indigestion again. Acid reflux. Pregnancy. Ulcers. Ovarian cysts. Ovarian torsion. What the fuck, was that even a thing?

A knot of fear formed in Cecilia’s throat, but fortunately, it seemed like the nausea cleared a little to make space for it. She tried to sip her water again, and this time, it went down. Grateful for the development, she chugged the rest of the glass and sighed.

Cecilia’s courage swelled. While she usually never ate breakfast, today she decided that her tummy deserved some T-L-C. She emptied a packet of oatmeal into a bowl and sipped another glass of water while listening to the gentle hum of the microwave. She also dug out her container of probiotics from behind a variety collection of energy drinks and popped a pill, admonishing herself for not taking her supplements more often. Running a cursory glance over the backside of the bottle to check the serving size, she took another pill. It could help…?

Thirty minutes later, half of the oatmeal painstakingly made it into Cecilia’s system while the rest formed a neat, cold lump in the garbage. But this a moderate success—while eating a small breakfast didn’t help her ache, at least it didn’t make it worse. Glancing at the clock, Cecilia scrambled to pack her bag for work, throwing in a few tampons in anticipation of her period. As enticing as calling in sick sounded, she put on her big girl pants—more so a loose dress that would let her midsection breathe—and headed to her car, saluting her own perseverance.

Small pangs of pain surfaced throughout the day. For the most part though, Cecilia kept her head down with last-minute prep for her presentation, grateful for the distraction from her tummy troubles.

The scramble to prepare stole her lunchtime, but the three coffees, public-speaking-fueled adrenaline rush, and baseline lack of appetite kept her oblivious to her own hunger until the evening. Cecilia was tired after the long work day, but the day wouldn’t be complete without a detour to FreshMart before going home. It was time to grab a meal.

The first thing she spotted upon entering the store, however, was her colleague Virat. While he hadn’t actively made her feel incompetent today, Cecilia was still in no mood to interact with him outside of working hours. Virat caught her eye and grinned. She always found his smile to feel out-of-place on his stern demeanor, as if he did it perfunctorily to not seem like he hated everyone. Feeling unnerved, she bolted to the one spot where she knew he wouldn’t follow: the ladies’ room.

Cecilia pushed her back against the main door. A blonde lady with a baby exited a stall, freeing it up. The baby flailed, clearly trying to escape its mother’s grasp, and the lady’s stern look made him start crying. Cecilia offered the mother a sympathetic smile and entered the stall, deciding that she might as well get her business done while hiding.

If Cecilia were to be honest with herself, she was getting just a tiny bit anxious. It was 7:30pm on the day her period was supposed to start. While it was clear she was hydrated, the porcelain still held no familiar hint of crimson. She held her breath as she checked the toilet paper, only for it to tell the same story. The baby’s wails on the other side of the stall door punctuated Cecilia’s thoughts as she slowly let herself breathe again, though it only came in shallow gasps. She stood in the bathroom stall in horror, clutching the side of her abdomen and remembering the morning’s bout of nausea.

No, no, no, no, no.

That can’t be right.

Fuck.

There was only one way to be sure. She rushed back to the main part of the store, quickly scanning the displays above the aisles while darting from one to the next. SEE ASSOCIATE FOR HELP, said a sign above the handles. The cabinet with the pregnancy tests was locked. Damn it. She covertly scanned the aisle for an associate, already practicing what to ask for under her breath. Instead, however, her path was blocked by a blonde lady—wait, wasn’t that the same lady from the bathroom? She hadn’t noticed her until now. Cecilia’s frantic movement distracted the lady from her baby formula shopping, and she cast a sour expression Cecilia’s way. The baby mimicked her with identical icy blue eyes, making Cecilia nervously scurry the other direction. What was up with everyone today? She spotted a teenage girl wearing the signature red of the store pass the aisle. Hoping she was an associate, Cecilia ran toward her, but once she got a good look at the girl, she noted a black maxi skirt swishing at the girl’s ankles and released a vexed sigh. Just another customer—but at least one that wasn’t a nosy colleague. Or staring her down.

Cecilia returned and grabbed one of the handles on the cabinet and gave it a feeble jiggle, not expecting to be able to open it but just to do something. Big mistake. To her astonishment, the action triggered a shrill alarm. Rapid, staccato beeps echoed in the air. No, no, no, no, shit! Cecilia froze, still clutching the handle. Her head pounded. She wanted to let go, freeing herself from immediate blame, but she found herself unable to move. Immediately, she stopped wishing an associate would come by. How would she explain that she wasn’t trying to steal a pregnancy test?

Her eyes darted between both ends of the aisle, searching for a way to escape the situation. But on one end, the lady and baby still stood, still distracted from their own shopping, as if stopped in time. The other side of the aisle was now occupied by a tall, imposing man dressed in a business suit who also seemed to be there only to accost her. High-pitched beeps continued to fill the air and arrested any thoughts Cecilia tried to form. Her gaze flickered between the man, the lady, and the baby, all frozen, judging her antics. Six eyes all upon her with such an intensity that Cecilia felt they were shooting actual daggers at her. Three mouths open and puckered as if preparing to spit the word whore in her face.

Overwhelmed, Cecilia felt her legs go limp. She released the handle of the cabinet and crumpled onto the floor. Crossing her arms over her tummy, she clutched her sides. And, as if invited by her hugging herself, the force in her abdomen grew more painful. She sunk her head into her hands and trembled, leaning against the shelves. Her heartbeat quickened—a low but threatening thump-thump-thump against the shrieking alarm.

Just as Cecilia attempted to ground herself, a new onslaught of distractions materialized. Everything spun. A foreign pair of glittery high heels clacked, making the ground shake. More and more customers increasingly swarmed the aisle, and they all seemed to be crowding around the shrunken Cecilia on the floor. Someone dropped their shopping basket with a deafening thud, startling her as a few scarlet boxes of diaper rash cream tumbled out at her feet. The chatter in the aisle was equally unintelligible and overwhelming, and on top of it all, the alarm now blared at an increased frequency. She closed her eyes to tune everything out, but instead, her mind jumped through a thousand visions. Two pink lines. A small form, writhing, black-and-white. Forceps and scalpels, slowly dragged across her skin. Her tummy ache was now fully terror, turning over and over inside her.

She tried a technique that Max had taught her to calm down. Five things she could see: her quaking knees, the peppered tiles, the man even taller and more threatening to Cecilia on the floor—no, no, think about anything but all those people staring…

As if Max knew from the other side of the world that Cecilia was thinking about him, he was now calling impromptu. Her ringtone was drowned out by the alarm, but Cecilia intercepted the vibration and accepted it, her finger quivering over the green Accept button.

“Hey?”

“What are you up to?” Max said.

Cecilia had no idea. She still said nothing, instead letting her shaky breath communicate what she consciously couldn’t.

“Oh, sorry, are you on a run right now?” Max continued.

She plugged her free ear to focus on Max’s speech against the cacophony. She felt baffled at how he could be so nonchalant, and why he acknowledged her heavy breathing but not the obvious racket around her. It was deafening to her ears, so surely her speaker picked it up? Regardless, she felt relieved that her current predicament wasn’t obvious through the line.

“Why did you call?” she asked.

“Just wanted to hear your voice. Did you like those lychee jellies I brought back last time? My ma bought way too many. Should I bring some home again?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah, sure.” The mundane question comforted her. As her boyfriend continued casually recapping his day, the alarm faded and her heart rate slowed. They chatted for four more minutes until Max said his mother needed him. Though she felt calmer now, when she hung up, a sudden, uneasy sense of emptiness overcame her. She opened her eyes.

Cecilia surveyed the empty aisle, perplexed. There had just been so many people around… right? Where had everyone gone? All she could hear now was faint pop music humming from the store speakers. When she tried to think back through the last ten minutes, everything except Max’s call was an incoherent blur.

Max’s call. The lychee jellies. The Japan trip.

Realization struck her.

Of course, how silly! She hadn’t even seen Max in over a month, how could she possibly be pregnant? Cecilia looked down at her still-trembling hands, sighed, and helped herself up off the floor. She looked around her surroundings one more time—still silent—and walked briskly out of the store, head still spinning from the experience.

Once Cecilia reached home, a question of much lower stakes settled onto her mind: what to eat tonight? The bewildering episode at FreshMart made buying food completely slip from her mind, so dinner now meant whatever she could assemble with her fridge’s meager contents. She settled on a generously buttered tortilla and some cereal with mushy raspberries.

Whether by coincidence or the day’s adrenaline dissolving any actual symptoms, her tummy ache had vanished. Cecilia delicately straightened her back while eating—she’d gotten used to slouching to ease the pain—and noticed, with equal parts surprise and relief, that nothing hurt. Even a few test deep breaths in and out triggered no discomfort. And to her own marvel, she finished the whole dinner and nursed a mug of tea in peace. For the first time in the last couple of days, she wasn’t uncomfortably aware of her gut. The only pain now was some intermittent aching in her back, and she took it as a sign that her period was on its way after all.

That night, Cecilia lay leisurely on her side. She’d abandoned the need to curl herself up in fetal position to fall asleep. By midnight, she dozed off, serene dreams floating through her mind. The mellow morning sunshine melted her state of slumber—no harsh alarm jolting her awake.

Everything was fine.

The workday that followed held a few eventful meetings for Cecilia as she worked through the response to her presentation. She spent the day flooded by questions, feedback, and a good dose of praise, too. Even Virat, who always seemed inclined to scrutinize her, congratulated her on a particularly well-executed aspect of her work. And she couldn’t discount that it was much easier to make progress without the constant threats from her own body. After her last meeting, the avalanche of messages finally tempered. She extended her arms behind her in a hearty stretch. She gave a little shudder of contentment and smiled to herself.

But as she bent forward to respond to one last message, a whisper of an ache began crawling through her tummy once again.