A painful Revelation

Chapter Five: A Painful Revelation

Maya's Pov 

I limped slowly toward the hospital reception desk, my heart a mix of anger and exhaustion. My ankle throbbed with pain, but what hurt even more was my heart. As I rounded a corner, I spotted Larry standing outside Brandy's hospital room. His face was dark, and he shot me a cold glance. Without a word, he let out a disdainful snort before pushing open the door and walking inside.

I leaned weakly against the wall, my chest tightening with pain and frustration. The anger, the heartbreak—they all fused together into a deep sense of helplessness. I wanted to confront Larry, but even standing was becoming difficult.

Just then, a doctor passed by, and I took the chance to ask about Brandy's condition. 

"And who are you to her?" He denanded. "Are you blood related?" 

I nodded. "She is my sister." 

The doctor flipped through the chart. "She's pregnant. The fall might have caused some issues. We'll need to run further tests to confirm."

I froze, my mind going numb. Pregnant? But her husband is dead…whose child is it? A wave of dizziness washed over me, and I felt my knees buckle. I grabbed onto the wall, holding myself upright. 

Dragging my injured foot, I headed toward Brandy's room, intent on confronting Larry and Brandy. But with every step, the sharp pain in my ankle became harder to bear. I pulled out my phone and called Larry. The phone rang and rang, but no one answered.

How ironic, I thought bitterly. You always answered Brandy's calls right away, but now you ignore mine. I hung up, the disappointment in my heart growing heavier.

With my ankle in such bad shape, walking was almost impossible, so I limped over to the surgical department, deciding to have my injury treated first. The doctor carefully tended to my wound, noticing the calm expression on my face.

"You're really tough," he commented. "Not a word of complaint. We just had another patient come in—she only took a small fall but complained so much that she insisted on being admitted."

I gave a bitter smile. "I know who you're talking about. She's pregnant."

The doctor nodded in sudden realization. "Ah, that makes sense. She was being extra cautious. I have to say, her husband seemed really worried, holding her the whole time."

My smile turned cold, laced with sarcasm. "That's my husband, holding another man's wife."

The doctor's eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly composed himself. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

I shook my head. "It's fine. Just fix my ankle."

As the doctor worked on my ankle, I couldn't shake off the feeling of betrayal and hurt. Larry's actions, Brandy's pregnancy—it all seemed too much to bear. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of pain and heartbreak.

As the doctor finished treating my ankle, I couldn't help but think about the events that had led me to this point. The dinner, the argument, the revelation about Brandy's pregnancy...it all seemed like a nightmare that I couldn't wake up from.

The doctor handed me a pair of crutches. "You should be careful with that ankle. It's going to take some time to heal."

I nodded, taking the crutches from him. "Thank you, doctor."

As I made my way out of the surgical department, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. What was I going to do now? How was I going to confront Larry and Brandy about what I had just learned?

On my way to Brandy's hospital room, I stopped, settling into a long bench, crying. The pain was too much to handle. How was she pregnant? For who and for how long? Was it Larry's? Obviously it was his. 

"That motherfucker..." I scoffed bitterly, tears rolling down my cheeks. "I knew you were warming her fucking bed. Every fucking night!" 

I laughed pacing around. As I paced I nearly fell but a male nurse walking by held me tightly and quick. 

"Easy, miss." He said, helping me to sit. 

"It's Mrs." I shot a deadly glance at him. "Mrs. Maya Larry." 

"Okay," The nurse muttered nodding his head in surprise and confusion. "Okay Mrs. Larry. Easy." 

"I am fine." I said, drying my tears. 

I could see the sympathy in the nurse's eyes. "Is your husband in the ICU?"

I scoffed bitterly, biting on my lower lips. "I wish that was the case." 

"Oh my, did he die?" The nurse said. "I'm so sorry ma. Really sorry for your loss." 

"Get out." I said quietly. 

"Ma?" 

"Leave." I repeated. "Right away." 

"Okay ma." The nurse scurried away. "I'm sorry for your loss. He's in a better place now." 

Quietly i stood up and made my way back to Brandy's hospital room, my heart pounding in my chest. I took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

Larry was sitting beside Brandy's bed, holding her hand. 

Chapter Six: Confrontation

Maya's Pov 

The two of them were gazing into each other's eyes with a tenderness that made my chest tighten. There they were, expecting a whole baby! 

As soon as Larry noticed me, he frowned. "What are you doing here?"

I let out a cold laugh. "Of course, I'm here because I'm worried about her." I stared at their tightly clasped hands, biting down my frustration as I sat down on the other side of the bed. "I want to know how she's doing." 

Brandy, noticing me, suddenly looked fearful and continued her act, saying, "Don't come any closer! Why are you treating me like this? Why do you want to harm me?" 

Larry, seeing Brandy's frightened expression, turned to me and said, "That's enough. I'm here, she'll be fine. Just leave. I am responsible for her, I've got this." 

Responsible for her indeed. Responsible for her baby you mean? I swallowed the words. 

"Larry," Maya said in a frightened voice. "Please I don't want her here. Her presence gives me PTSD." 

"Oh really?" I scoffed. "PTSD?"

Larry grabbed my arm and dragged me outside the room. Once we were alone in the hallway, Larry spoke firmly, "You should go home and get some rest. She can't handle any more stress right now."

My eyes flashed with anger. "I'm stressing her out? More like she's stressing me out! Stop pretending, I already know she's pregnant. You can take care of her all you want, but isn't this going too far?"

Larry looked taken aback. "What are you talking about? You're not seriously accusing me of being the father, are you?"

I let out a bitter laugh. "You're still playing dumb? Don't insult my intelligence."

Larry's expression turned cold. "You should think carefully before you say something like that."

I, caught off guard by how composed he was, asked hesitantly, "What do you mean? Are you telling me it's not yours?"

Larry scoffed. "Of course not. You really are something else. Let me see your foot—does it hurt? Did you really hurt yourself just to get back at her? Why do you even care?"

Tears of frustration welled up in my eyes. I clenched my fists. "Care? Of course I care! We're still legally married. If you father a child with her, it could affect the division of assets."

Larry, now irritated, said, "For the last time, the baby isn't mine. It's my friend's—a child left behind after his death. Stop jumping to conclusions."

"Lying on a dead man?" I asked. 

"Don't you dare." He responded. "That child is Darey's legacy." 

Just then, the doctor approached us, holding some papers. "The pregnant woman needs a family member to sign these."

Larry glanced at me but didn't hesitate to take the pen from the doctor. "Your wife seems to be showing signs of a threatened miscarriage," the doctor continued, "so make sure to take extra care of her in the first three months."

Larry didn't correct the doctor's assumption and solemnly signed his name in the "family" section of the form.

Brandy called out to Larry from inside the room, her voice weak and sweet. 

My voice was filled with a mix of exhaustion and pleading. "Just this once, can you not go? My foot really hurts."

Larry didn't even glance at me as he replied coldly, "Stop pretending. It's pointless. Go home."

I let out a harsh, bitter laugh. "Fine. I'm leaving now. From this moment on, we're done. You can take care of her for as long as you want, in any way you want."

I turned and walked away, not looking back. As I limped down the hall, I could still hear Brandy's soft voice from inside the room, "Did you two argue again…?"

Wiping my tears, I made my way to the hospital exit. Once outside, I finally dialed the number I hadn't dared to call for three years.

On the other end of the line, a familiar voice answered—warm, steady, and reliable. "So, you've finally come around? You finally decided to call me?"

Tears streamed down my face once again, but this time I didn't hold back. I knew that only in front of someone I truly trusted could I show this kind of vulnerability.

The man on the other end of the phone, hearing my quiet sobs, immediately sounded alarmed. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

I wiped my tears, a small, shaky smile appearing on my face. My voice was still thick with emotion, but I managed to say, "Come pick me up."