"Why Carla?" Paul asked as she walked through the front door. He was sat on a sofa in their open-planned living room with what she guessed was a glass of scotch in one hand. She glanced up at him for no more than a second before shrugging.
"It's not what ya think." She began, but couldn't find the words to continue. The whole journey home she had been planning what to say, she was just going to tell him the truth and hopefully he would understand. But standing in front of him, the way a small child might stand before a teacher, took all the words from her, leaving her to stand completely speechless.
After a few minutes silence he let out a quiet chuckle to himself, this of course made her jump on the spot. "It's not what I think. That's funny 'cause when people say that, it's usually exactly what I think." He started standing up to pour another himself drink. "Carla you want for nothing, I make sure of that everyday. But the one time I ask you, the only thing I have ever asked of you, you won't even try giving me it. What sort of love is that ey." He continued, gulping down the contents of his glass before slamming it down on the side table.
She stood watching him, she had given up on trying to hold back the tears instead letting them trickle down her cheeks. She wished the ground would swallow her up, then her and her useless body would be gone from him for good. He didn't deserve this, he deserved much better.
"I think it's best we both get some space from each other tonight. The spare rooms made up, but I'm sure someone would take you in for the night if you wanted. I honestly don't care what the hell you choose to do, but just try not to break anymore hearts in the process ey." And with that he walked away.
She had been up the whole night, just thinking. Her tears hadn't really stopped over the past few hours and she could tell her make-up would look a state. She was still sat in the dress she had worn to the meal and her feet still wore the shoes she was yet to remove. But for once she didn't care about how she looked, she felt she had no one to impress anymore. Paul had never suggested they take space from each other before and she was expecting the worse. Michelle would finally get what she had been dreaming about for years, and Carla would be forced straight back to the place she dreaded – the council estate. But then again maybe she was overthinking things, she usually did.
Turning her head, her eyes caught sight of the tablets that had cruelly been grabbed from her hands several hours ago. Paul had obviously had his hands on them to as the tray was now bent in places it wasn't before, making it stand in a somewhat awkward position. Reaching forward she grasped ahold of the pills. She hadn't read about the dosage but that didn't bother her. She would do anything to give Paul what he wanted. Anything.
She had managed to swallow her third pill that morning when she heard his footsteps walking across the hall.
"Still here then?" He called to her, as he bent down to collect the mail that had fallen through the letter box a few minutes ago. Smiling he picked up a letter addressed to her, before walking into the living room where she sat.
"Mrs Connor. I'm not sure that name suits you much anymore. Connor's don't lie to each other." He said, throwing the thin white envelope in her direction. Noticing the small medical stamp in the corner, Carla opened it as discretely as possible. She knew it was her results from the previous day, and she knew what to expect, but seeing the words printed in bold across the top bought tears to her eyes. It really was true.
Folding the letter up into a tiny square, she hid it in her pocket before standing up to leave. "What's that? More lies ey, maybe a love-note from a secret lover." Paul started. She just ignored him and carried on. She knew how childish he could be and today was obviously no exception. "I seen the stamp Carla, is you lover - a wealthy doctor ey? Is that the sort of fantasies ya like. Slutty little 'patient' with a rich handsome doctor." He paused for a moment taking in the women who despite all this he still adored completely.
"Fine. You want to know the truth. Read it." She snapped back. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out the tightly folded envelope shoving it against his chest, before storming up the stairs. She needed to be alone.
Unfolding the envelope, Paul muttered annoyance as he heard the door slam upstairs. He took a seat, pulling out the halved sheet of A4 paper - puzzled as to what it could be. Reading the words across the top, he felt his heart literally crumble - what had he done.
Diagnosis – Infertile.
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