𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 ➳ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬

Chapter 29 ~ Surprise!

"Hi..." I greeted her awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot as I stood on the front porch.

She opened her mouth once but nothing came out. Finally she cleared her throat and began to speak.

"I, um...I didn't know... No one told me you were coming..." she said, stumbling over her words nervously.

I smiled slightly at her and shrugged my shoulders.

"It wasn't really planned. I got sick this morning so Rick and Michonne wanted me to come see you in case it was something serious..." I said, trailing off.

She nodded once and stepped aside to let me in. Directing me over to the examination table, I hopped up before taking a seat on it. The white paper crinkled as I positioned myself, my Converse-clad feet swinging back and forth. As I sat, Denise moved about the room grabbing a jar of tongue depressors before walking over to me. Looking up at her, I noticed she was just as uncomfortable as I was. She was just about to put one of the sticks on my tongue when I interrupted her.

"Wait! I... let me say something first," I spoke up.

A confused expression crossed her face but she didn't object.

"I don't...blame you...for what happened to Owen. I blame the woman that did it but... I don't blame you. You had nothing to do with it. It wasn't your fault..." I said, my voice getting quiet as the painful memories came back to me in flashes.

Sympathy and understanding flooded her eyes and her lips turned upwards into a small smile.

"Thanks for that... He really was a great guy. I think somewhere along the way, he just buried it deep down until...until he found a reason to be that good person again." she said softly.

I nodded, tears pricking my chocolate-brown eyes. Several seconds of silence passed between us before Denise cleared her throat once more and lifted the tan stick up to my mouth.

"Ready?" she asked, smiling and I nodded.

I opened my mouth and she stuck the tongue depressor down onto my tongue. Peering down my throat, she shrugged before removing the stick.

"I don't see anything out of the ordinary. Your throat isn't inflamed or irritated..." she said, trailing off.

She tried out a few more things, checking my vitals but found nothing that would cause me to be ill. Then she picked up a small white cup from one of the various tables covered in medical supplies before holding it out to me. I glanced down at it before looking back up at her.

"What?" I asked, confused.

She arched her eyebrows and pushed the cup towards me again.

"Oh, you're not serious?" I whined.

"Well, there's not many other things I can check without the right medical technology. We'll have to do it the old-fashioned way: a urine sample." she said.

I sighed and rolled my eyes slightly before taking the cup from her hand.

"Fine..." I groaned before walking off towards the bathroom.

Several minutes later, I came back with a full cup. Wrinkling my nose, I handed it to Denise who took it over to her table.

"You can go sit down for a while. I'll be back in a few minutes with the results." she informed me and I nodded before sitting back down on the examination table.

I swung my feet back and forth impatiently, my eyes taking in the small white infirmary room. It was a pretty well-stocked little establishment considering we were in the middle of an apocalypse. If only Owen was here to see it. He'd almost made it here too... I swallowed back the lump that had formed in my throat at the thought of him. It still didn't feel real.

Like it was all just a bad dream. Like someone would come and say it was all just a misunderstanding. But no one ever did... Because it did happen and Owen was gone... He wasn't coming back. I had nothing now...

A sudden clatter of glass broke me from my thoughts and I looked up just in time to see Denise walking over to me, a huge smile plastered on her face. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

"What? What did you find out?" I asked her, fear seeping into my voice.

Maybe I was sick, deathly ill even. Maybe I was dying...

"I have great news!" Denise beamed at me.

My death would be great news? Gee, thanks, Denise, I thought to myself sarcastically. I sighed.

"Just go on and tell me. I can take it," I said, preparing for the worst.

She laughed and shook her head, smiling.

"Angel, you're pregnant!"