“From what I see, he’s not making it a debt. Also, his assistant has been waiting out there for a while now.”
Shit. I completely forgot Ashley was still standing in the hallway.
I drag in a shaky breath, trying to gather the shards of my pride before they splinter further.
“Fine,”I sign, my movements careful.“Tell her she can come in. I… I need to get ready.”
He studies me a beat too long, like he wants to say more, but then he just nods and heads for the door. As soon as his back is turned, I press a hand against my chest, willing my heart to slow down. Because no matter how much I keep insisting this is only about the hearing aids—
It isn’t. And that terrifies me. I’ll accept them because I need them. I’ll survive with them. But one way or another, I’ll pay him back. I have to.
* * *
God, what am I even doing here? I’ve asked myself this question a hundred times today, but now, sitting in this clinic, it feels louder, heavier, and impossible to shake.
The place reeks of money. Even the air is expensive, laced with the scent of polished wood and a sterile, calming fragrance that’s probably meant to put patients at ease. It doesn’t work on me. The floors shine like glass, the waiting chairs are plush, and the receptionist gives a rehearsed, professional smile that I can tell isn’t real.
Ashley walks ahead of me with the kind of composure that makes me feel small. She moves like she belongs here, like she’s done this exact thing a hundred times before. Maybe she has.Maybe Alex has sent her on errands like this for people who matter more, people who deserve it more.
Not me.
The drive here was silent. She didn’t ask me anything, didn’t try to make small talk. And maybe I’m grateful for that, but the quiet only left me drowning in my own thoughts.
I clutch the notebook in my lap—the one from Alex’s place. I should’ve returned it the morning he dropped me home, but I didn’t. I kept writing in it, like it tethered me to something I shouldn’t want. Something dangerous.
I shouldn’t be here.
I shouldn’t have let him do this for me.
The receptionist hands Ashley a stack of forms, and Ashley fills them out with quick, neat strokes. She doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t glance back at me for confirmation. And why would she? I’m not the one paying. That truth hits me like a blow, sinking into my stomach like a stone.
The receptionist’s curious eyes flicker to me for a second, but she doesn’t ask me to sign a single thing. I’m invisible here. A guest. A responsibility.
My gaze drifts to the door leading to the exam rooms. I should get up. Walk out. I’ve lived this long with a cheap hearing aid that barely works. I’ve survived the silence, the blur, the constant guesswork. I can keep surviving. Why should I let Alex interfere?
Oh fuck me… when did I start calling him Alex instead of Alexander?
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I take it and look at the screen, then grip the phone so hard when I see it’s a text from my mother.
For Christ’s sake.
There’s a tap on my shoulder that almost made me jump. I glance up, and it’s Ashley. She mouths a “let’s go in,” and I nod.
The private exam room is just as luxurious as the waiting area—sleek wooden panels, minimalist furniture, the kind of space designed to make rich people feel comfortable. There’s a coffee station in the corner and a massive window overlooking the city skyline.
The tests are straightforward, checking my current hearing capacity, the level of loss, and which frequencies I can pick up. Almost the same routine I went through during my hardest time five years ago. I swallow hard, trying to focus on what’s going on in the room, pushing back memories that will take me to the dark place I work to get out of.
My skin itches.
The fitting is strange, almost surreal. The moment the device is placed behind my ear and switched on, the world changes. It’s weird at first, then scratchy, but with a few adjustments, it sounds clearer.
I hear the rustle of paper, the click of the doctor’s pen, the hum of the air conditioning. And Ashley, her voice. Even my old hearing aid was not as clear as this.
“Are you alright, Lucas?” she asks. I catch the exact tone of her voice- smooth, professional, tinged with quiet efficiency. But also a hint of concern.
I nod, but my throat tightens instantly. My eyes sting. My hands tremble in my lap. There’s a pressure sitting at the back of my throat, a cry begging to escape, but I force it down. I will not break here. Not in front of them. I hate that the only reason I’m even sitting in this chair, the only reason I’m hearing her voice this clearly, is him.
Alexander.
