"This is City hospital. Mariam speaking, please, who is on the line?"
"Eloise Wright. I was just discharged. Please may I speak to the doctor who had carried out the pregnancy test done on me? I think there might have been a mistake." I sighed heavily, waiting for a positive response, but then-
"May I know the name of the doctor?"
I don't know that. I didn't even take time to ask for the doctor's name.
"I'm sorry, but I don't know his name."
"Then there is no way I can help you, Miss Eloise. As you know, it's a big hospital, and we have about two thousand doctors. I'm sorry. You should bring the report back and get another test done, and there won't be any charges since the hospital did the first. What do you say?"
"I will be there by morning."
....
Shortly it was morning, I jerked from the bed. I whisked to the kitchen and made coffee, but as soon as I gobbled it down my throat, the taste happened to be odd. It wasn't perfect. I spewed it into the washing sink and flushed it away.
Suddenly my phone rang, and I quickly hurried to the bedroom. It was Peter.
The pain from last night trotted through my veins. I could still feel the harsh gale and how my body quivered through the night, all because of Peter.
I slid the phone to answer and placed it on my ear. I didn't utter a word but listened to what he had to say, and I prayed he would ask for forgiveness.
"Eloise, so you've been discharged from the hospital. Will you sign the divorce papers now? I can't wait any longer."
Instantly tears gathered in my eyes, and I bit my lower lips. Why didn't he apologize?
"If that's what you called to say, then bye." I hung up, but before I could walk out of the room, the phone rang again.
"Peter, just stop calling."
"Why were you whacking the door last night?"
"What? It's my house. Why did you change the locks?" I yelled.
"Eloise, all you ever did with your money was to take care of your sick father. The house is mine, not yours, plus I'm living with Diane now. I don't want you to make her get a miscarriage. That's why I had to change the lock. Get your own place."
His utterances were a slam to my crate. I was going to loiter till I ratified if I certainly was pregnant and how many months before telling him, but his words aggravated my spirit.
"I am pregnant." I uttered.
"Are you okay?"
"I said I'm pregnant, Peter."
"I'm sorry, Eloise, there is no way you'd be pregnant. You are barren. You don't have a womb." He kept on chortling like I was some comedian. And unfortunately, I can't even show him the test result. The months don't match.
The last time we made out was when he came home drunk, which was four months ago; before then, it's been two years.
I quickly had a hot bath. I need to hurry to the hospital and get another test done. After bathing, I found out I didn't have any clothes in my father's house. I need to call Peter.
Angrily I grabbed my phone and dialed his number. He answered immediately but without a response. I could hear the giggles of him and his mistress. He was doing that on purpose.
My fist clenched, but I tried to control myself.
"I need my clothes."
"Okay, I will have Diane bring them."
"What? Don't you dare? I will pick them up myself."
"Your wish."
...
I took a deep breath, strutting by the door of my house. I never imagined a day would come, and I'd need to knock on the doors before entering. This wasn't my nightmare or a wish. I've always thought I'd live here as long as I was in this city.
I dabbed the tears from my eyes and tried to wear a smile as I hoisted my hand and knocked on the door.
The door opened in a few seconds, and Diane stood by the door, looking at me with a sneer.
"I'm here to pick up my things." Every gaze at her makes me want to drag her hair and throw her in the street so everyone would know she is nothing but a home wrecker.
"Who's there?" Peter's voice sounded from behind her.
I dawdle patiently for Peter, only for him to have a coat of mine in his hand. He placed it on her, only then did I realize that she was wearing a dress of mine, she also had my slippers on.
"You are here. I've arranged your clothes, the ones you bought." Peter's words made me scoff.
"The ones I bought?"
"Yes, the ones you bought. They aren't much."
He gave way for me to enter. When I got to the living room, I found a small box. It was the same box I brought with my clothes when we married.
My gaze drifted at him, and he was smiling.
"That's what you brought here, and every other clothes were bought with my money. You aren't entitled to it."
"Bastard." My eyes instantly turned red. I carried the box and swerved out of the house.
When I got to the door, I stopped and turned around to look at him.
"I'm pregnant."
"You've been insisting on this, fine. Where is the report?"
I couldn't give him that. He would only call me a slut.
"I'm going to the hospital to get a proper rest done, and I will come with the report so that you would believe me," I muttered.
"Whatever. The hospital called. You should remove my name from your emergency contact. Go and get your father from their morgue. At least bury him before you go insane. We both know you can't get pregnant. You are barren. Good luck."
Only then did it occur to me that I'd left my father in the morgue.
....
"Here is the test report."
"Thanks." I opened the report. I was doubting. Maybe the report from earlier wasn't mine, and perhaps I wasn't pregnant at all.
My hands were quivering against the report. After much thinking, I unwrapped it.
"There was a mistake from earlier, and this is the correct report." The nurse said.
I read through the report and found out I was really pregnant, but a month and two weeks were gone. That was how long I was in the hospital, two weeks in a coma and discharged one month after.
"Nurse, I think this report is also wrong. How could I have gotten pregnant while I was in a coma?"