CAUGHT BETWEEN TWO MAFIAS

The worst happens

KERIEN

My mouth remains open but no words come out. Dad’s mouth too, and Jason’s cold eyes keep peering into ours, waiting for answers.

God!

We are doomed!

This has to be it—the day Jason finally skins both of us alive. I knew our end was near, but I didn’t expect it to come this fast.

“She was talking about the cake you told me to bake as a surprise for her,” Dad says quickly. “I told her you wanted a dark orange icing but I used what she prefers instead—blue. She was saying I’ll get us into trouble for doing what you didn’t ask me to.”

A blatant lie! A complete, well-packaged lie. How did he even come up with that so fast?

“Oh…” Jason chuckles.

My gaze stay fixed on his face as my heart palpitates. I keep watching him, afraid he will say he heard everything and that Dad’s lie isn’t enough.

“This was meant to be a surprise, Mr. Hampton,” Jason says, his voice calm and playful. “You’ve just shown you can’t keep a little secret by ruining the surprise I planned for her.”

“Forgive me, sir,” Dad replies, laughing amidst nervousness. “Its just that… I really don’t know how to keep things away from my daughter.”

Jason nods before excusing himself politely and walking away. I wait until his footsteps are no longer heard before I finally exhale.

I turn to Dad who has just said he can’t keep things away from me, but he kept the most important thing of my life. He didn’t come to see me.

I should be excited because my husband is planning a surprise for me—something I’ve fantasized over while growing up—Surprise flowers, breakfasts in bed, soft kisses on my cheeks that warm my heart and the likes. But no, life doesn’t give me any of that. Not even life, but Dad.

Dad hands me this.

“I guess we are done,” I say, my eyes still looking ahead, not giving him the satisfaction he yearns for, something like a little nod and the praises I usually shower him whenever he cooks a lie so well for his clients at the bakery.

But not this time.

The weeks keep running by, and I still struggle to get used to the man who is now my husband. Watching murders happen like routine and seeing money being cleaned in all kinds of illegal ways pricks me like I am a part of it. Though I’m not, I have been pushed into this life, and there is certainly nothing I can do about it.

One Thursday morning feels different. I get off the bed with this indescribable headache I have been ignoring for weeks now. My stomach turns in a way I can’t fathom too. I always say I’ll visit the hospital, but I keep postponing. Today crosses the line.

I take a cool bath, wear something casual, and grab my bag then tell one of the guards to drive me with the normal Camry sports car. Jason is not around, and I know if he were, he would insist I go out in something loud—one of those flashy cars that scream luxury. But I am never comfortable with that. As someone still adjusting to this new life, the Camry works fine for me.

At the hospital, the doctor checks me quickly and sits, holding the bridge of his nose while inscribing something down his booklet.

“You’re stressed,” he says, not looking at me. “Your blood pressure is high. You need to cut down on strenuous activity.”

I stare at him. Strenuous? I barely raise a finger in Jason’s house. But maybe he’s right. I haven’t stopped thinking since I got married. Overthinking might be what is raising it.

Then he looks up.

“Your condition too is too delicate to be battling with high blood pressure.”

My brows come together in disdain. “My condition?”

He pauses, then sighs softly.

“You’re pregnant, Mrs. Rodriguez. How come you don’t know? You’re already 12 weeks gone.”

My throat tightens.

Twelve weeks? How? I’ve only been married for eight weeks.

Maybe I didn’t hear him well. I ask him to rephrase and he says the same thing.

Dr. George has been Dad’s doctor since I was little, and mine too. That trust is the only thing stopping me from calling him “incompetent”. But this…

“Doctor…” I stammer, my voice weak. “I got married eight weeks ago… how am I twelve weeks pregnant?”

“Well, that’s your puzzle to solve, Mrs. Kerien. The result here shows exactly what I’ve just told you. If you’re doubting, you can go to another hospital to confirm,” Dr. George says with a flat tone like he doesn’t care how his words hit me.

In all the years he has treated Dad and I, he has never made a mistake. He always crosschecks every test and oversees even minor surgeries with absolute care. I have always wondered why he hasn’t been named the best doctor in the entire Bellyham.

But now, this result in my hand keeps sending cold shivers down my spine. I walk out of the hospital holding the leaflet he gave me, my mind racing.

Twelve weeks?

No. It can’t be.

My one-night stand with that man can’t possibly leave me pregnant... or can it?

All through the ride back home, I lean back in silence, calculating again. Doctor George says I’m twelve weeks gone. And we met three months ago…Three full months.

Oh no! Oh, God!

How do I keep getting myself into deeper mess?

I sit upright, my eyes staring out the window while tears flow silently. No clear thought comes out of my mind even as it won’t stop spinning. All of a sudden, the idea strikes.

Maybe abortion is the only way.

Getting rid of this child will save me the stress, the shame, and most especially, it will save Dad and I from Jason’s wrath. How could I have been so careless? How didn’t I tell him to use protection that night?

But that has already been done. Now, I must not keep this baby and Jason must never find out.

I reach home, head straight to the room, go into the bathroom to freshen up and fall into the bed. Sleep drags me in quickly due to exhaustion and confusion that swallowed me.

When I wake up, something feels really odd. I stretch slowly and turn to see Jason sitting beside me on the bed. His elbows rest on his knees, and he stares at me like someone who has been watching me sleep for a long while.

I blink swiftly, clearing the blur in my eyes. Then I glance at the wall clock before greeting him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks in a low tone.

I frown slightly in confusion, not understanding what he means at first until my eyes drop to the floor beside the bed.

There it is.

The leaflet doctor George gave me at the hospital—The test result, lying open like it slipped from my bag while I slept. My chest tightens and my throat dries up at the same time.

God!

He knows...

Jason knows…