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CHAPTER SEVEN
CARMELLA
It’s been four weeks since I was discharged from hospital. Alessandro has messaged me every day without fail. I know he’s busy looking for the cartel leader, as all of our men are. Papa and Nic have been working round the clock. I know this because Momma has moaned about their absence at dinner most days.
Alessandro is still very attentive, even though he’s busy. His texts are usually in the late evening, when he’s home, I guess. He’s texted throughout the day the last week, though, probably because I told him I’ve been really sick.
I’ve never felt as ill as I do today, though. Today is a particularly bad day. I’ve lost weight over the last few weeks. When I weighed myself three days ago, I’d lost nearly ten pounds. I’m currently lying on my bed feeling sorry for myself when Mia pops her head around the door.
“Cammy, are you still feeling poorly? Momma sent me up to tell you lunch is ready.” She pouts as she hurries over and plops herself on the bed.
The motion causes me to heave, I jump off my bed and dash to the bathroom. Dry heaving into the wash basin.
Once I’ve finished dry heaving, I brush my teeth and splash some water on my face to freshen up.
Slinking out of the bathroom, I come to a stop when I see Momma standing with her arms crossed, leaning against my bed.
“This has been going on for weeks, and you’re not getting any better. I’m taking you to see the doctor.” She raises her brows, daring me to question her.
“Momma, I’m fine. I just feel a little sick today.” I shrug, like I’m fine. When in reality, even the clothes hanging off my body feel like tiny needles all over my sensitive skin.
“Carmella, you are not fine. Vomiting for two weeks is not normal. The last time I vomited for two weeks I was preg…” She tilts her head at me, her eyes look like they might pop from her head as the look of horror takes over her face. “Carmella. Tell me you’re not?” She approaches me cautiously.
My composure completely breaks as I fall to the ground in front of me. Momma has me wrapped in her arms within seconds of me hitting the floor.
“Cara,how? Talk to me. How did this happen?” She begs.
I lean back to look at her, “I think you know how, Momma.” I laugh, but it turns into sobs.
“We need to get you to the hospital,cara.This is not normal to be this sick in pregnancy. Do you know how far along you are?” She sits me on the bed as she goes to my closet to grab me a jacket.
“I’m nine weeks and five days.” I whisper.
She falters in her step but continues toward me and wraps me in the jacket.
“Come, I’ll get Sergio to take us to the hospital.” She guides me down the stairs with Mia hovering by the door.
I can tell by the wideness of her clear blue eyes that she was eavesdropping.
Momma stops to address her. “Not a word, Mia, you hear me?” Mia nods and sends me a worried smile.
“I’ll be okay, baby girl.” I lean over and place a kiss on her silky black fringe.
Momma escorts me into the back of Sergio’s car. It doesn’t take him long to get us to the hospital. It also doesn’t take long for Momma to make it known who we are, as she demands privacy and the best OB-GYN that the hospital has on duty.
The doc comes in and confirms my pregnancy is in fact ten weeks along. I question the dates, without revealing too much information in front of Momma. The doc informs me that some babies grow quicker than others, and it is just an estimate. He prints out the scan picture, and my eyes fill with tears. Last time it was just a little blob, now it has a defined little head with little stumpy arms and legs. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. My tears spill over when I hear its little heartbeat. It has to be the best thing I’ve ever heard. I look towards Momma who has tears in her eyes, but as well as tears, there is also fear. Fear for what is going to happen now.
The doctor explains that I’m severely dehydrated and that I need to stay in overnight for intravenous fluids. He informs me that a nurse will be in shortly. Once he leaves the room, I turn to look at Momma. Her head is bowed, and she is fiddling with her pretty manicured nails.
“What happens now, Momma?” I whisper.
She looks up at me, but she seems to be struggling to find her words. Before she has a chance to articulate an answer, the door to my room flies open. Papa storms in with Nic following closely behind.
I look to Momma, and she looks between me and Papa.
“Someone needs to start talking, right fucking now!” Papa booms.
“Dante, will you keep it down.” Momma glares at him as she shuts the door behind Nic.
