Chapter 3
As the nurse was pulling out the needle, my vision went black for a moment. I only managed to stay upright by holding onto the table.
"Mom!" Noah shouted.
He rushed in, and when he saw my pale face and the blood bag, his eyes welled up with tears. He turned and shoved Carlos.
"Get lost. Go away. Don't touch my mom!" Noah yelled.
Carlos stumbled back.
Noah's voice trembled. "Mom's anemic. You can't take that much blood from her."
Carlos froze. "Anemic? She used to be fine."
"That was then!" Noah shot back.
Noah broke down in tears. "Mom almost died from a hemorrhage when she had me. She's been taking medicine all these years. Did you know that?"
I crouched down and hugged Noah. "It's okay, honey. Mom's alright, really."
Noah clung to my neck. "No, you're not. Let's go home. I don't want to stay here anymore. We'll leave and never come back."
As I got up, I felt dizzy and nearly lost my balance. Carlos reached out to steady me.
I quickly sidestepped away from him. My bag swung violently, spilling its contents. My old diary landed on the floor with a loud smack.
Carlos stooped to pick it up. "What's this?"
I reached out urgently. "Hand it over."
He opened to the first page, and his hand froze.
It was my handwriting from five years ago. I had written: [Today I found out I'm pregnant. But, baby, I might lose you.]
Carlos looked up at me, and something broke within his gaze.
"Lydia..." he whispered.
I said again, "Give it back to me."
He refused, clutching the diary so hard his knuckles went white.
Sonia whispered weakly from the hospital bed, "Carlos, I'm feeling dizzy."
Carlos looked at her, then at me. He eventually pressed the diary back into my hands.
"Go home first. I'll come find you later," he said to me.
I took Noah's hand and headed for the door. As we reached it, I heard Sonia whisper softly, "Carlos, what did you read in the diary?"
Carlos didn't answer.
The hallway seemed endless, and Noah clung to my hand like he was afraid I'd disappear.
"Mom, can we leave this place?" Noah asked, his voice trembling.
"Soon. Just wait a little longer," I replied softly.
What was I waiting for? I didn't know. Maybe I was waiting for things to finally end.
*****
Carlos came in the middle of the night, knocking urgently at my door.
I opened it to find him standing outside, his eyes red and tired.
His voice was rough, barely above a whisper. "What you wrote in the diary... Is it true?"
I turned away and walked inside. "What are you talking about?"
He followed me in and closed the door behind him. Noah was already asleep.
Carlos stood in the living room, still gripping his phone.
"I talked to Arthur Dickens, the doctor who was in charge back then," he said.
My hand froze in the middle of pouring water into a glass.
Carlos came closer, staring right at me. "He confessed that Sonia bribed him to change your diagnosis from a pregnancy to a fibroid."
Water spilled over the rim of the glass, but I stood there, unmoving.
Carlos grabbed my hand and took the water flask away.
"Why didn't you tell me back then? Why didn't you show me the real report?" he asked, his voice thick with emotion.
I pulled my hand away from his.
"Carlos, I showed you the ultrasound scans three times. You said they were fake, that I'd say anything so I wouldn't have to donate my bone marrow," I replied.
He stepped back. "I..."
I looked him straight in the eye.
"You said it was a tumor. You said, 'Lydia, are you really going to make such a big deal out of a tumor? Is it really worth all this fuss?'" I said.
Carlos suddenly covered his face, his shoulders trembling. After a long while, he dropped his hands, his eyes red and shining with tears he refused to let fall.
Carlos whispered, his voice shaky, "Is the baby real?"
I answered, my voice cold, "So what if it was real?
"You were the one who signed the induced abortion consent form, Carlos. You killed the baby, not once, but twice," I said.
His legs buckled and he had to grab the wall for support. "Twice?"
"The first time was when you signed that consent. The second time was when I jumped. The baby died with me."
Carlos slid down to the floor, completely limp, like a broken man. He looked up at me, a faint glimmer of hope in his eyes.
"Then, who is Noah?" he asked.
I cut him off quickly, my words sharp and cold. "He's adopted. He's not that baby. That baby was dead a long time ago. I adopted Noah later. He just happens to look like you, that's all."
The light in Carlos' eyes died, then flickered back with... relief? He was actually relieved? I was bewildered.
He whispered, almost to himself, "At least that baby didn't suffer."
I walked over and crouched down in front of him.
"Carlos, listen up. Noah is definitely not that baby," I said, "but that baby really did exist.
"For four months, I talked to him every day, telling him about his father, even what he looked like, even though his dad never came home," I said.
A big tear fell from his eye, hitting the floor with a heavy splash.
He choked out, "I'm sorry. Lydia, I had no idea."
I stood up. "You knew. You just didn't want to admit it. Sonia always came first for you. Her life was precious, mine wasn't, and my baby meant even less."
He grabbed onto my pant leg, like he was clinging to his last hope.
"I was wrong. Please, let me make it right. Let me try," he pleaded.