Chapter Nineteen

Joel jolted when he saw Pat. Her eyes were fixed on him, smouldering with anger, and he could feel the tension building between them.

“Joel…” Pat’s voice dropped to little more than a whisper as she pressed her hands to her chest, trying to ease the ache forming there. She gazed deeply into his eyes and saw something that hadn’t been there before—guilt.

“This can’t be right.” Her face quivered with outrage.

Hot tears stung Joel’s eyes and began to roll down his cheeks. “I am so sorry,” he whimpered.

Pat clutched the door frame to steady her trembling legs. “What did you say?” Her expression looked ready to explode.

Suddenly, Mama stepped in front of Joel, facing Pat. She tried to force a smile despite her nervousness. “Nothing…” she stammered, her hands trembling in the air. “He said nothing.” She nodded her head vigorously.

Pat threw a furious glance at Mama before shifting her gaze back to Joel. Anger surged within her, and her breathing became shallow and rapid.

“What did you say?” she shouted at Joel, her body quaking with emotion. Tears began to flow freely down her cheeks.

Mama shuddered as she wiped the tears from her eyes. She wanted to say something but just covered her mouth in distress.

Joel felt his heart pounding painfully. “It was an accident,” he said through his tears. “I…” He stammered, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak.

He swallowed hard and wiped away his tears. Afraid to look up at her, he continued, “It happened so fast, so fast…” His hands trembled. “I had just finished a two-day shift at the hospital with little to no sleep when I was called in for another surgery.”

“They needed an anaesthesiologists for a liver transplant patient’s surgery.” He wiped his hands down his face, trying to compose himself. “While the central lines were being placed into his internal jugular vein, the needle advanced too far, perforating both the jugular vein and the artery.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “He bled to death.” He finally looked up at her, his heart sinking as he saw the expression on her face.

Pat’s breathing quickened as she recalled the painful memories of her late husband. She knew well what had caused his death. He had been battling primary biliary cirrhosis, an inflammation and swelling of the bile ducts in the liver, for several months. Eventually, they decided to proceed with a liver transplant, which they assured her would save his life. Instead, he bled to death on the operating table.

She was never given the names of the anaesthesiologists involved, as they were protected by medical privacy laws. Pat took her case to the Department of Health, but after many back-and-forth discussions, they concluded that it was an accident and that every individual responds differently to surgery. They stated that they had performed this procedure on several patients who survived.

“It was an accident, Pat. It was…” His trembling voice reached her.

“God!” he whimpered. “I saw how you broke down when you got the news that day. That sight, that whole scene, stayed with me for months. I felt helpless and disconcerted. I couldn’t function properly at work. Everywhere I went, I saw your face and felt your pain; it was so evident…”

Tears welled up in his eyes again. “I was there at the funeral. It was heartbreaking to realize that I took someone who meant so much to you, all because of my mistake. It felt as though I had taken your life too, and I couldn’t live with that. I couldn’t.” He shook his head in dismay.

Pat’s face was tense; she leaned forward in exasperation.

“I had to make things right; I had to do something.” He walked to the other side of the living room and leaned gently against the wall.

Mama cupped her hands around her small body, trembling in fear. It was not something she had expected. The same woman she had tormented all these months was actually the victim.

“I made a promise to myself and to God that I would make it right; that I would do everything I could to bring joy and happiness back into your life.” He swallowed hard. “But I couldn’t do that as a doctor. In fact, I was so afraid to go back there; I was scared of bringing death to another family. I couldn’t do it—I just couldn’t—so I resigned.” He wiped away his tears. “Everyone said it was an accident and that it could happen to anyone. Some said it came with the profession, that I couldn’t save everyone, but I refused to believe them. I refused to accept that.” He shook his head in indignation and fear.

Pat stood there in dismay; her legs could no longer support her, so she gently sat on the edge of the couch beside her. Mama also took a seat, clearly distraught as she listened to her son’s confession.

“I watched in despair as you mourned your husband. Rachael was too young to lose a father. I saw you taking her to school most mornings; I watched in sadness as you tried to live your life, to bring things back to normal.”

After about three years, I decided it was time to introduce myself to you. I felt I had to make myself known; I had to do everything possible to bring joy and smiles back into your life…” He forced a smile.

Pat slowly stood up, dread tightening around her heart. “Are you telling me that you killed my husband, then stalked me for several years and married me out of pity and guilt?” Her heart twisted in dismay.

“No, no, no…” Joel moved closer to her. “I just wanted to make things right.”

“My husband is dead, and nothing is right!” she screamed, tears streaming down her face. “You should have told me, Joel. I had the right to know!”

“I only wanted to make you happy; I wanted to give you life…”

“Life!” she snorted in disgust, wiping away her tears. “You took one away, and you wanted to give me life?” She shouted at him. “That wasn’t good enough for you? You had to trick me, to deceive me into marrying you. Everything we had was a lie, everything…” She cried out in anguish. “And to think your mother,” she pointed angrily at Mama, “has been harassing and frustrating my life all these months because of you.” She faced Joel squarely. “She said I ruined your life, destroyed your career, and that I was a wicked, evil woman!” she shouted, her voice rising.

“Pat, please…” Mama stood up, moving toward her.

“Don’t you dare!” Pat shot an angry look at her. “Your son killed my husband!” she raged at him.

“I’m so sorry…” Joel whimpered.

“Sorry is an understatement, Joel. Sorry has no meaning to me right now.”

“I love you, Pat. I love you,” Joel said, tears streaming down his face.

“Stop it!” Pat shouted at him. “I have been living with my late husband’s killer for four years. God!” Her jaw clenched in disgust. “How can I be sure you didn’t plan the whole thing? How can I be sure you didn’t just blame your medical negligence for your own gain? How can I be sure it was just an accident and not something you had plotted?”

“What?!” he exclaimed, taken aback. “You know me, Pat; you know I could never do such a thing.”

“I don’t know you, Joel. I don’t know you, and I’m not sure what you’re capable of. In fact, I don’t even know who you are.” She cried out, turning towards the door.

Joel moved quickly to grab her hands. “Please, Pat, I am so sorry; I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He tried to meet her gaze. “I love you so much and will do anything to make this right.”

“I hate you, Joel. I hate you,” she muttered in a low voice, pulling her hands away from him. She picked up her bag from the floor, along with her keys and phone, and rushed to the front door. She had no idea where she was going but wanted to get as far away from him as possible.

She got into her car and, without any hesitation, drove away.

*****

Rachael ran quickly to her house, spotting her mother a few blocks away as she was getting into her car. Rachael desperately wanted to reach her before she drove off, but she was too late. She had just received a terrifying phone call from Aamilah on her way home and needed her mother right away. Taking out her phone, she tried to call her mother, but it rang several times with no answer.

Tears streamed down her face as she struggled to process the shocking news she had just received. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she walked toward her front door, only to turn back and head outside into the street. Her mind raced, and her heart thumped wildly in her chest. Then she remembered the number Aamilah’s mother had given her the other day when she visited. She had saved the number to avoid losing it. Quickly, she dialled it from her mobile.

“Hello?” It was Mrs. Usman.

“You have to come now; you have to come right away!” Rachael’s voice trembled with fear.

“What? Who is this?” Mrs. Usman asked, startled.

“It’s Rachael, Aamilah’s friend,” she replied through tears.

“Oh God!” Mrs. Usman gasped. “What happened? Where are you? Where is she?” she asked in a low voice.

“You have to come now; I’m in front of my house,” Rachael said before hanging up.

About five minutes later, Mrs. Usman arrived and Rachael quickly got into the car.

“We have to go now, to the Recreation Centre at Lewisham,” Rachael said, her voice still trembling with emotion.

“What happened?” Mrs. Usman asked, looking confused.

Rachael tried to steady her breathing.

“Rachael, what’s wrong? Have you heard from her?”

“Yes,” she said through tears. “She called to say goodbye.” Rachael cried out, “She wants to kill herself; she was saying so many things that I couldn’t understand.” Her hands began to tremble. “She said she missed her family and that she missed me, but that nothing would be the same again. She mentioned taking some medication or something…” She sobbed. “I couldn’t hear much more; I just heard other voices asking someone to call 911.” She whimpered, “Before everything went silent, she told me she was at the recreation centre in Lewisham.”

“Oh my God!” Mrs. Usman exclaimed, trying to steady her breathing while focusing on driving. Fear washed over her as her heart tightened.

Chapter Twenty

About half an hour later, they arrived at the centre but were directed to Lewisham Hospital. It took almost thirty minutes for someone to provide them with any information. Finally, they were told that Aamilah was still being attended to and that they couldn’t share much information.

Mrs. Usman paced the hallway in fear, tears streaming down her face. She trembled, most of all, terrified for her daughter’s safety.

A young woman approached her. “I’m sorry, ma’am, are you Aamilah’s mother?”

“Yes, yes…” Mrs. Usman nodded eagerly. “Is she alright? Where is she?”

“My name is Grace; I’m one of the staff members at the recreation center where she has been living for the past few weeks,” the young woman explained calmly.

Mrs. Usman looked flustered.

“She told us a little about herself but didn’t provide any personal details to help us contact her parents while she was staying at the centre,” Grace continued with a worried expression. “Some of her friends found her passed out in her room this afternoon, and we called for an ambulance.”

“I do hope she feels better, ma’am,” Grace added, nodding reassuringly.

“Thank you, thank you,” Mrs. Usman said as she held Rachael tightly. Just then, one of the doctors approached them.

“I’m sorry…” the doctor began.

“What!” Mrs. Usman whimpered, quivering in fear.

“I apologize for the delay in updating you on her condition,” the doctor continued.

Rachael, noticing the doctor speaking with Aamilah’s mother, quickly stood up and walked over to them.

“She took an overdose of paracetamol,” the doctor explained.

Her mother gasped in disbelief. “I’m not sure what her intent was—was she trying to commit suicide or seeking an abortion?” he asked, looking intently at Mrs. Usman.

Mrs. Usman sniffed in response.

“Did you know she was pregnant?” the doctor directed his question to Aamilah’s mother.

“Yes,” Mrs. Usman nodded.

“I understand that she is young and pregnant, but she could have sought help through the proper channels rather than risking her life,” the doctor added.

Rachael sniffed; the doctor still hadn’t provided any information about Aamilah’s current condition.

“We were able to flush the drugs from her system, and she is stable now,” the doctor reassured them.

Mrs. Usman breathed a sigh of relief while Rachael held her hands tightly.

“We cannot say for certain if there is any risk to her baby, but she is still pregnant,” he stated, his expression serious.

Rachael swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Can we see her now?” Mrs. Usman asked.

“Yes, in a few minutes. The nurses will let you know.” He nodded and walked away.

Rachael felt a bit relieved that she was alright. She looked at Mrs. Usman and could see the fear written all over her face. She knew this wasn’t over for her, as Aamilah was still very much pregnant, but at least she was still alive, and that was good news to her.