Every Morning I Felt Unwell, But The Doctors Couldn’t Find The Cause. One Day, A Jeweler On The Subway Gently Said, “Please Take Off That Necklace. There’s Something Unusual In The Pendant.” I Went Still And Whispered, “My Husband Gave It To Me.”
Nausea rose in her throat like a familiar tide. Sophia barely had her eyes open before she threw back the comforter and sprinted to the bathroom, managing to slam the door just before her stomach emptied itself completely. For 2 months, every single morning had begun the same way, with this exhausting ritual over the toilet, after which she felt utterly wrung out. Splashing her face with cold water, Sophia stared at her reflection in the mirror. A pale face, dark circles under her eyes, sharp cheekbones. In those two months, she had lost 15 pounds, though she’d never been overweight. Her colleagues at the pharmacy had already started whispering behind her back. She would catch fragments of conversations about anorexia and nervous exhaustion. The bathroom door creaked open, and Alex’s worried face appeared.
“Again?” he asked softly.
Sophia nodded, unable to speak. Her husband came closer, wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and she smelled the familiar scent of his woody cologne with notes of bergamot.
“What if we see another doctor? Mom says she knows a gastroenterologist, a really good specialist.”
