THE WORTHINGTONS WRITE BACK
Michael’s POV
I alighted from the car and waited for Carissa to get down from the back seat. Then I turned to her after she joined me in front of the hospital.
“Are you ready?”
She nodded repeatedly and then clutched her handbag. I gave her an approving nod and together, we sauntered into the building.
It’s been 4 days since Madison had a cesarean section. Four days since I lost my son and four days of trying to hold myself back from committing suicide.
As we walked toward the hallway, I turned to Carissa. “You’ll wait for me for a few seconds. I’ll just have a word with the doctor and come out,”
She nodded and when we reached Dr. Magdalene’s office, Carissa remained outside the door. I sighed and opened the door to the office.
Dr. Magdalene smiled and stood up the moment I stepped foot into the office.
“You’re welcome, Mr. Harris. I trust you’re doing well,”
I nodded. “I’m here with the psychologist. She’s right outside the door. I just stepped in to have a word with you,”
She nodded and moved away from her desk.
“How is she?” I demanded and slipped both my hands into my pockets.
Dr. Magdalene breathed a sigh and began to swing her head from left to right. “I’m afraid she’s still the same,”
I turned around and began to scrape my forehead. By being the same, she meant that Madison was still turning down visitors, resisting food, and being mute.
I turned back to Dr. Magdalene. “Why does she keep doing this to herself?”
“People deal with grief differently so maybe in her situation, the best way to deal with it is by withdrawal,” Dr. Magdalene replied.
“You know I never knew the baby meant such a great deal to her. If there’s anyone who should be beating themselves here then it’s me,”
Dr. Magdalene shook her head. “You don’t understand any of this, Mr. Harris. Do you? Madison is an intentional person and yes, this emotional breakdown has something to do with the baby but mostly with the fact that she thinks she’s a failure. She thinks she failed you because she knows what this baby means to you and above all, she feels she didn’t complete her end of the bargain thus wasting all your hard work and resources,”
I took my head into my hands. “I wish she could see that none of this is her fault. I wish she would just let me into the room so I could explain things to her. The baby is gone,” I opened my palms wide. “There’s nothing we can do about it. It’s either we choose to live and give him justice or we bury ourselves in grief,”
Dr. Magdalene smiled. “It’s great to see that you’re coming out of your shell. I’m happy you’re seeing things the other way now and I hope Madison sees it too,”
I sighed.
“At least she still lets me into her room as long as I don’t talk,” Dr. Magdalene smiled sadly. “I do check up on her from time to time so physically, I think she’s doing great but I’m concerned about her weight loss because she’s been relying on tea and water these past few days even though it’s safe for her to have mild foods now,” Dr. Magdalene supplied.
I aimed for the door. “Let’s see if the therapist can get to her,”
I went out of the doctor’s office and met Carissa waiting for me at the corner.
“This way,” I cocked my way toward the hallway and she followed me.
We traced our way and then ended up in front of Madison’s private ward.
I landed a few knocks on the door but there was no response. I sighed and turned to Carissa. “Maybe we need to get Dr. Magdalene. She’s the only one Madison lets inside. Perhaps she can come and announce her presence,”
“Just a second,” Carissa said and reached for the doorknob. She gave it a slight push and it opened.
I swallowed hard as the door opened, exposing Madison, seated on the bed. She was staring at the blue wall, backing the door.
I motioned to Carissa to get in and immediately after she slipped into the room, I shut it slowly and remained outside.
Madison won’t speak. She won’t want to see anyone except Dr. Magdalene who provides her with medical care. She’s on a water fast and I was starting to panic so I invited the therapist.
Perhaps, Carissa can’t get to her, or maybe not because shortly after Carissa walked into the room, I heard the door squeaking. I turned to the door and then Carissa emerged.
The disappointed expression on her face was enough to answer all my questions.
Carissa shook her head. “I’m sorry but I don’t think she’s ready to have anyone around,”
I turned away, feeling more frustrated than ever.
“I know you’re doing everything in your capacity to help her, Michael but maybe, this is her fight. You just ensure she’s being provided for,” Carissa told me.
Georgia keeps saying Let Madison be. Richard said the same thing and now, Carissa was insinuating the same thing. I don’t think any of them knows how I feel anytime I see that hollow look on her face.
“I’ll take you home,” I told Carissa and started walking out. She followed me.
We went back to the car and then I started it. Carissa, who had always been a chatty person seems to know where to draw the line because no words were spoken between me and me as we rode home.
I pulled the car into my residence and parked it in front of the building. Carissa stepped out.
“I’ll go talk to Ank,”
I sighed and also alighted from the vehicle. At least that one wasn’t resisting therapy.
I was about to head into the house when I saw Georgia hurrying toward me. I narrowed my gaze to her hand and caught an envelope.
She walked up to me. “A letter came for you a while ago,” she said, presenting it to me.
I snatched it and flipped the envelope. “It’s from the Worthingtons,”