Hospital results

Carrie

With his grey hair looking scantier than before, he walked into the room, his lips pressed into a thin line.

I got up from the bed and rushed closer, eager to hear what he had to say.

“I've been busy,” was all he said.

“Oh, I-”

Another person walked in. And it turned out to be my mother. Walking in after her was my Uncle Steve, my father’s younger brother.

Seeing how they were all in my room, I guessed that they wished to speak to me about the wedding.

“Carrie…” My father began to speak once the door was securely closed. “I am sure you know that I decided to call off the wedding.”

“Yes, Dad, I-”

“Arranging that wedding was my way of helping you, Carrie.” The wrinkles around his eyes deepened, and that sight made me worry. A sigh left my old man, and his feet danced for a second. “You keep living your life as if you don’t have one. You never act like you have a purpose.”

“But, I do.” The path our discussion was leading to was one that we have visited a lot in the past. And I am more than willing to use this opportunity to get what I want. “Dad, you know what I want to do with my life.”

“You have no business running or owning a business,” his response was sharp, and he lashed me with a condescending gaze, the one that always got on my nerves. “You should look for something else to do. Now that you are no longer getting married, you have to-”

“I want to do it. I want to produce furniture. I want to make people’s homes a delight to see.” My urgency and desperation increased, and my forehead creased deeply. With a little ache in my heart, I mourned all the days I wasted because my father refused to support and allow me to follow my dreams.

Even when I took action and reached out to a friend for help, my father blocked all access.

His insistence and ridiculous views on a woman running a business has affected me in a lot of ways. I mean, he almost married me off because he continually wishes to dictate how my life should be after he refused to grant me the life I wished for myself.

So, yes, with urgency, I moved closer to my father and begged, “Please let me do this. Let me do what I want. I promise I will stop being a wild child. I will-”

“I will think about it,” was all my father said, his voice curt.

“Dad…” I winced and faced my mother. “Mom, please. Speak to him.”

“Give your father some breathing space, Carrie.” And as usual, my mother failed to take my side. With her permed hair well-settled on her shoulders, my mother said, “He just had to let go of a huge deal because of you.”

“Oh…” Right. The wedding was supposed to come with some mighty wedding presents.

“Carrie,” my father called, and I faced him. “I need you to go to the hospital.”

“What? Why?”

“You ran away. Who knows what or who you’ve contacted? So, do the family a favour and get some tests done.”

“I mean…” I doubt anything will be found. Alessandro, the gorgeous stranger, didn’t seem like someone with herpes or anything related to that. But one can never be too sure. So, I shrugged and gave in to my father’s request. “If that’s what you want.”

“Good. Your punishment is over as of today. So you can leave your room as you please.”

“Thank you, Dad.” The fact that I won’t get married returned to my thoughts, and I felt happiness all over again.

My uncle Steve cleared his throat, and that was all I heard from him because he left the room right after my father turned his heels toward the exit.

My mother walked out after them, but not after she gave me a stare I failed to comprehend.

But if I am to guess, it almost seemed as though she was reprimanding me for getting out of the marriage trap.

My thoughts are wild, I know. But there’s just a chance I might be right. And if I am.

Oh well…

All I can say is that I’m glad I’ve escaped all that shit.

~~~

Because of the numerous hospital tests my father made sure I ran, I ended up spending another week in Venice.

The weather here is nice and all, but I am dying! I want to go back to LA and enjoy a good night in my apartment. I don’t want to keep having to constantly greet family members who sneer at me for not getting married. And I certainly don’t like the frequent check-ins to see if I had run away again.

At this moment, I’m done showering after a long, unsatisfactory sleep. And with tired steps, I walked out of the bathroom, the droplets of water on my skin soothing me. When I found a favourable position next to my bed, I gently slipped my bathrobe off my shoulders.

Then a knock from outside announced a presence.

I considered ignoring the person, but the knock came again. I adjusted the robe and heeded to the knock.

And once I opened the door, a shocking sight greeted me.

“Frank…” The name of my supposed-to-be husband slipped out of my tongue.

“May I come in?”

“Uh...” I adjusted the towel on my wet hair while wondering why he was here. “Sure.”

“So...” He pocketed his hands and walked in. “We eventually didn’t get married.”

“Nope.” I gave him a small smile once he turned.

With his stressed, somewhat wrinkled eyes fixed on me, he let out a gust of air before saying, “Truthfully, I was looking forward to making you my wife.”

“Uh?”

He adjusted his Harry Potter glasses. “I don’t have much luck with women. So, I didn’t mind the little matchmaking our fathers did.”

“Oh.”

Silence filled the atmosphere because I had nothing else to say.

After a sigh, Frank said, “Carrie, you are a gorgeous woman. There is no doubt. It’s a pity I never got to know you better.”

Okay, maybe Frank is not a bad person.

 Okay, okay… To be honest, maybe I tried to paint Frank as a bad person because I was supposed to get married to him. But now that I am free from that insane collaboration, I will admit that this tall man is sort of... sweet.

So, with a softened tone, I replied, “I am sorry the wedding was called off.”

“I know you never liked me.”

“I am not ready for marriage. And I wasn’t thrilled when I learned that I would be getting married to a stranger.”

Frank nodded in understanding, and I told myself to say nothing more. If not, I could speak out of turn and cause some irrevocable damage.

“Well…” He held his waist. “I should uh... I should leave.”

“Yeah. I need to get dressed. So, yeah.”

His eyes roamed my bathrobe as though he had just noticed what I was wearing.

“I’ll leave you to that.” He smiled softly, his eyes still roaming until he decided to leave.

“Frank, my boy!” My father’s voice pushed my ex-fiancé back into the room. “Finally. So good to see you. Why has it been hard to reach you?”

I hugged my bathrobe closer and watched the friendly exchange.

“I have been very busy, sir. You know how business is these days,” Frank replied, and my father gave him a friendly pat.

“Brother, you haven’t checked the reports,” my Uncle Steve’s voice followed after his short blonde hair popped into the room.

Great! I might as well never change out of this robe since the entire hotel has decided to camp in my room.

My father faced my uncle, who was holding a brown envelope.

“Oh, that’s good. They came early. I want Carrie to hear the results.”

“The results?” I asked, confused as fuck.

“The hospital results,” my Uncle answered my inquiry.

“I should leave. This seems like a family issue,” Frank said, the roughness of his oblong face twitching with seriousness.

“Nonsense! You are family, regardless of what happened.”

I resisted the urge to scrunch my lips in disgust at my Father’s response.

And when Frank replied, “I will just stay in a corner and watch,” I realised that I would be seeing more of Frank.

“So modest, that boy.” My Dad said to no one in particular.

But I knew quite well the statement was directed at me. He was reprimanding me for refusing to be with Frank Maximus.

Whatever, I guess.

“Okay, Steve. Let’s have the results,” my father filled the room with his stern voice.

“Alright.” A little scuffle followed. “Okay...” His eyes skimmed through the stapled papers. “Everything is fine… All negatives.”

I threw my father a smile as I did a celebratory backflip in my head.

“Wait.” My brain froze. “Something’s here.”

Please do not be herpes. Please.

“She is…” My Uncle glanced at the paper again, like he wanted to be sure of what he saw.

“What is it, Steve?”

My uncle looked up at my father, his eyes carrying an emotion I couldn’t decipher, an emotion that instantly worried me.

“It says Carrie is pregnant.”

My knees weakened immediately.

Preg-what? How? Wh- what... didn’t I use the pills?

Didn’t I…?

 I did!

 I used… Didn’t I?

“Really?” The calmness in my father’s voice injected fright into my soul. That fright found a home in me and made my soul shiver.

“Yes, it says here that she is two weeks pregnant.”