Defeated

Chapter 9

The next day, Carla and Peter were getting ready for their hospital appointment later that morning. They'd barely spoken since the slight altercation last night and Peter is still worrying, hoping she hasn't given up the fight because she just seemed so run down.

"You okay?" He asks, watching her apply a little bit of makeup in the mirror to cover up the bags under her eyes and her pale complexion.

She nods, not saying a word.

He was going to ask her if she wanted to talk, but he knew Carla well enough to know she'd bite his head off. So instead, he walks into the bathroom to brush his teeth and sighs when he spots a clump of hair in the bin.

After Carla finished her makeup, she picks up her hairbrush and gently combs through her locks. She used to just get on with it without giving it much thought but today, she was almost scared to brush through it too much incase more hair falls.

Tears fill into her eyes as she looks down and sees the brush full with even more hair. So much hair has already fallen and it frightened her that she'll get bald patches if it continues.

She held into a makeshift poney-tail and stared at her reflection. It was so thin; her poney-tail has shrunk massively.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Peter clearing his throat, he'd been watching her get upset over the hair loss. "We need to get going, baby."

"Mm-hmm. I'm ready now." She mutters, wiping her eyes discreetly and grabbing her bag from the sofa.

"Have you eaten?"

"No. I'm not hungry." She replies, bluntly.

"You might be later."

"No I won't."

"Carla." He snaps. "Stop being so flamin' stubborn. Eat something even if it's something small, I don't want you fainting again."

"Don't speak to me like I'm a child!"

"Well stop behaving like one then." He says, opening the door and walking out, leaving Carla alone in the flat befroe she hesitantly follows.

The drive to the hospital was very silent, both being too stubborn for their own good wasn't the best combination.

During a red light, Peter started continuously tapping the steering wheel to try and relieve his stress. After a few seconds of doing it, he heard Carla sigh in annoyance and so he mentally smirked. He carried on doing it, knowing it'd wind her up and will mean she'd eventually make the first move.

"Will you stop that?" She pipes up.

"Stop what?" He plays innocent.

"Tapping your fingers, I know you're doing it intentionally." She rolls her eyes, trying to remain serious.

"Sorry, it's a habit."

"What's a habit? You tapping the wheel or you annoying me?" She turns her head and sees his playful face, her face breaks into a small smile.

"See! Got you!" He laughs, looking forwards as he carries on the drive.

"Oh, shut up!" She whines.

"I've stopped now!" He chuckles. His plan of getting her to talk and to make things be less awkward was achieved, he always knew the right thing to do.

10 minutes later, the couple are sitting in the waiting room waiting to be called in.

Carla has a magazine and is trying to distract herself by reading all the latest clothing trends. However, it really wasn't working.