Shouldn’t Have Gone

by Mara Lynne

  The other night when they were at Ontario to see the Niagara Falls, Hunter proposed to her a week-long vacation to Colombia. Angel has been longing to see her parents for the longest time and had no qualms whatsoever in accepting it. She’s absolutely excited about it that she even called Ray to help her pack her luggage.

  “How long will you be gone?” Ray asks while rolling her summer dresses, wondering why she has to pack this much stuff.

  “A week, I think,” Angel answers. “Hunter wants to tour Bogota, Cartagena, and some islands.” She takes care of Hunter’s clothes and stuff.

  “Where do George and Sarah stay again? The place’s name is hard to remember.”

  “In Guatape. Mom said it’s a really beautiful island surrounded by other isles.”

  Ray sighs. “I wish I could go with you.”

  “Well, you could. I’m sure mom would want to see you, Ray.”

  “If only I could, but I have lots of paper works to do. Just send my regards to them, okay?”

  She would not have to worry about the wedding preparations because Victoria and Hugo have their hands on it, and Ray promises to update her from time to time. Hence, when they come back from their trip, all that’s left to do is to tie the knot.

  As soon as they’re finished packing her things, they go downstairs into the tea room where Mrs. Jurgen has prepared freshly brewed tea and shortcakes.

  Ray hurriedly digs in to his strawberries and tries the green tea. After all, the cake is stuffed in his throat. He is very hungry having missed his morning meal. “Now that Hunter already knows about you and Damien, I’m pretty sure he has Damien warned,” Ray states after tasting the bitterness of the tea. “Did you really end everything with poor Damien?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “How did he take it?”

  The tea tastes and smells too strong, and it is clogging her nose. Or it could just be Ray’s sudden interrogation that’s making her uncomfortable.

  “Not positively, I guess?” Ray adds.

  “I don’t want to talk about him or anything that is related to him, Ray. All I can tell you is I’m looking forward to this trip with Hunter.”

  “Fine,” he says, giving up. “I’m not going to talk about Damien Etheridge ever if that makes you happy. But just let me express for the very last time what I think about this hullabaloo.”

  “Are you saying that you can predict my future now?”

  “I’m no soothsayer, Angel, but I know when you love someone, it’s real and deep. I don’t want to see you hurt again. So, for the final time, I’m going to ask you.” He leans forward, fixing his serious gaze on hers. “Are you really sure about this? Is it really Hunter Stone?”

  Without batting an eyelash, she answers with a sweet, confident smile. “I have never been this sure, Ray.”

  “Excuse me, Ms. Mohr...” Liza, the maid, enters the door carrying a small package wrapped in blue paper. “But this one is sent for you.”

  “What could that be?” His eyes widen. “Don’t you think it’s too early for sending wedding gifts? The invitations haven’t even been made yet.”

  Liza puts the package on the tea table and leaves the two to examine what’s inside. A blue silk ribbon is attached at the center, but a card is missing.

  “Who’s it from?” Ray questions.

  That’s the same thing troubling Angel. The last time she received a mysterious gift from an anonymous sender, danger followed. The tiny voice in her head is whispering a name in her ears.

  This could not be from Will…

  Slowly, her fingers untie the ribbon, and the lace falls to the floor. She tears the paper wrapper starting from the edges to the center. She wanted to just rip off everything in a second when her eyes are not quite ready for the surprise.

  Angel’s thoughts flicker from her parents in Colombia to Hunter Stone who could be riding his car or meeting new people at this moment. The thought of danger following any of these important people courses fear through her.

  Once the box is unwrapped, she opens the flaps, and the contents are revealed to be a pair of blue baby shoes, a tiny blue knitted bonnet, a pair of mittens, and a blue bib which has ‘Junior’ printed on it.

  “What’s all these about?” Disbelief is written all over Ray’s face. “Are you pregnant, Angel?”

  “Not that I know of,” she whispers.

  Ray takes out another thing from the box: a sealed manila envelope.

  “May I?” Angel is too stunned to even nod, and so, Ray takes the liberty of opening the envelope.

  “A film?”

  An ultrasound film with a label “junior.”

  ***

  Paul has already arranged for Hunter and Angel’s hotel accommodations in Bogota and Cartagena. Their itinerary for the entire trip is already made known to Hunter, which he completely approved of. Tonight, they will travel via his private plane and are expected to arrive in Bogota in approximately six hours.

  But before Hunter leaves his office for a week, he has to get some deals and problems ironed out first. The rest of the problems, he will just fix when he returns.

  “Er—Mr. Stone, sir…” Paul starts. “What about your scheduled meetings with Mr. Etheridge?”

  “Cross them off my book, Paul,” he says as his gaze rummages through the documents on his desk.

  “Sir?”

  “Cross them off, I said.”

  “Should I reschedule them for next week, then?”

  Right, Paul does not know anything about the fallout.

  “Damien Etheridge does not require my help anymore, Paul, so take those meetings off my book,” he informs him nonchalantly.

  As far as Paul sees, it’s not much to ask. Besides, he’s afraid to be the object of Hunter’s fury.

  “And sir, there’s a package for you.” Paul takes out a small package from the cabinet where the secretary kept it while Hunter was in a meeting. “However, it seems that the sender forgot to accompany it with a card, sir.”

  He rises from his chair and walks toward the mini living room in his office where Paul leaves the package. He, then, immediately dismisses Paul.

  Hunter unwraps the package without further delay.

  Unlike other businessmen, Hunter never returns mysterious packages to senders. Paul would always raise concerns for his boss’ safety, but Hunter is not afraid.

  Inside the box are objects Hunter readily identifies: a rattle toy, a pair of baby shoes, a knitted bonnet, a pair of mittens and finally, an adult sized t-shirt with the caption: ‘First time Dad, Congrats!’

  Still tongue-tied and deep in shock, Hunter turns his attention to the manila envelope that came together with it. With trembling fingers, he takes out what’s inside of it.

  ***

  “So, tell me what you need to say, Eric,” Damien begins. He observes dark circles under the doctor’s eyes and quickly assumes that his friend might have been kicked out of his house by his wife for, perhaps, his sexual perversions. Damien would want to laugh at his misfortune, but then he thinks of his own and remembers that he’s got the worse luck so far.

  Eric rakes his fingers through his blonde hair, massaging the sides of his head.

  “Let me tell you that I spent the entire night for this, so excuse my appearance.”

  “Don’t worry. Girls will still sleep with you.”

  Eric rolls his eyes at him.

  “This is no time for your jokes. I want your complete attention, Damien,” Eric speaks, having snapped his thread of patience. Cups of coffee coursed through his veins to keep him awake the entire night, and he has no time for Damien’s jeers.

  “A few days ago, I checked on Candice’s ultrasound results. You told me that she’s ten weeks pregnant, didn’t you?”

  Damien nods.

  “But the obstetrician told me a slightly different thing, Damien,” Eric adds. His words got Damien’s complete attention, putting him into silence. “Candice is fifteen weeks pregnant not ten. Dr. Kendall even s
aid that Candice had visited her office twice before that day you came with her.”

  The information is too much for Damien to process. Unconsciously, he starts shaking his head. Candice told him a different thing, so how could this be? She told him she’s never gone to a doctor; that she’s not known of her condition until she took the pregnancy test early that day she stormed into his place.

  Why is Eric giving him a different thing?

  Exhaling, Eric continues, “It’s a boy, Damien. Dr. Kendall said that Candice knew of the baby’s gender a week before the recent check-up. I’m sorry, but obviously, Candice has been lying to you.”

  “But she could have been wrong about the time. That is possible, right?” His voice is trembling.

  “Yes, it’s possible that she miscalculated the time and days, but why would she lie to you about the baby’s gender and her frequent visits to Kendall?”

  Yes, why would Candice?

  Damien slumps his back against the chair and shuts his eyes for a moment, recalling that day when Candice came to him and brought him the news. Although he was frightened and shocked about the idea of being a father, he wouldn’t deny that he was also thrilled. The news was an unwelcome one, but somehow, he knew that the child wasn’t. And now that his friend doctor is implying that the child Candice is carrying could not be his, he feels unusually bad about it.

  Unusual indeed.

  Thorns prick his heart.

  “Are you suggesting—”

  Eric cuts in, “I’m saying that Candice lied to you… about her pregnancy.”

  “Yes, she could…” he said, reluctantly agreeing with Eric’s proposition. He bobs his head as his confused mind searched for the right words to say. “But that does not mean I’m not the father.”

  Eric pulls himself up and marches toward the cupboard where he keeps important papers. After searching through stacks of files, he takes one green folder and hurries back to his chair.

  “I hope you forgive me for sticking my nose into this, but I could not just leave this unnoticed,” he says, sliding the green folder on his table towards Damien’s direction. “I asked Kendall if a paternity test is possible, I mean, a prenatal DNA test. She said yes, and I asked her if we could do this to Candice and the child. Unfortunately, medical ethics forbid procedures to be done without consent. I performed it nonetheless. Hence, I need you to cooperate with me. I might lose my license because of this.” He pauses to wet his parched throat. “I asked Kendall for Candice’s DNA. The rest is not a problem at all. I just had to revisit my laboratory for some leftover tissue samples from the tests we performed in the past.

  “How did Kendall secure Candice’s DNA?”

  “Kendall had to lie to Candice about undergoing a Pap smear. While she scraped cells from her cervix, she had to collect tissue from the placenta simultaneously by passing a small tube through the vagina into the cervix. Then she was able to collect both DNAs. All this was done without Candice’s knowledge. There was another way to secure a DNA sample from the unborn child, but Candice would question it, so we had to go discreet,” Eric answers. “And the results came out just this morning.”

  He urges Damien to read what’s in the folder.

  His eyes are left open with indecipherable figures and charts in front of him. Damien thinks he has lost all his strength to even ponder upon what’s written, except the words: Negative Paternity Result (Exclusion).

  “I found at least three non-matching DNA areas in the samples which means you are not the child’s biological father.”

  He flips to the next page.

  “Surprisingly, there seems to be a little similarity or relationship in both your DNAs. It appears that the unborn child is still your family or closely related to you. And so, I ran another test, and here’s the result.” His point finger leads Damien’s eyes to the bottom part of the page where the words read, “99.99% Positive Paternity Result (Inclusion).”

  Then, he slides his finger up to the upper portion of the paper where another man’s name and not Damien’s is printed in bold.

  “He’s the child’s father, not you,” Eric says.

  Chapter 25 – Clouds

  Could Angel be pregnant?

  The thought crosses his head multiple times, and looking forward to it seems to come easy for him. For heaven’s sake, he’d move mountains to be the father of Angel’s babies. He could already envision himself holding the tiny little thing in his arms, stealing his resolve not to cry when he looks at the child’s face.

  He hurries back home, tempering the excitement, only to see Angel in the living room pacing to and fro with her fingers tapping against each other.

  As soon she feels his presence, her dull and worried look relaxed a bit. She dashes toward him and holds his hands, but her eyes scream of apprehension.

  “What’s the matter?” he whispers, reaching for her face.

  This is not the look of a happy pregnant woman; the thought flashes through his mind.

  “I just can’t help but worry, Hunter,” she softly says.

  “What is it?”

  “A mysterious package was sent over this afternoon.” She clutches his hand and pulls him toward the table where a box lays. “This could be just misdelivered. However, I can’t set aside the thought of Will and the warning gift I got from him last time. Don’t you think I’m a little paranoid now?”

  No. After all the fear Will has inflicted upon her, she has all the reason to be cautious.

  The prospect of a child with Angel all went to drain when he realizes that the package sent to Angel is similar to the one sent to him—baby stuff in blue and a peculiar ultrasound film. No, this can’t just be pure coincidence. An erroneous package delivery of this scale does not sound sensible to him. This was planned. This was done for a purpose—to wreak havoc and terror. But why the choice of baby objects? Why tarnish the happiness baby objects bring to expecting parents? These are supposed to be sacred items and certainly not meant to be used to blackmail or threaten people.

  “What does this mean, Hunter?”

  Hunter chose not to tell Angel about the package he received. He’d deal with it some other time. He’d have to ring Paul immediately to investigate the packages once they’re settled on the plane to Colombia. Tonight, they’re bound for a six-hour trip to the south, and he does not want for anything to be on their way—his way, to be exact.

  He shrugs his shoulders. “This could just be some random mistake, baby.” He kisses her on the lips lightly and pulls her away from the table where the package rests. “Let me take this to Paul so he could send this back to the post,” he said, sidestepping past Angel and back to the table, and reaching for the box. He holds on it tightly as though it is a ticking time bomb. “We have a flight to catch. Your parents expect us in six hours.”

  She smiles. “I have all our things ready. I was just waiting for you.”

  “I’ll follow you upstairs,” he says while watching her walk up the stairs. His gaze then goes straight to the box he is carrying once Angel vanishes in the turn corner.

  Quickly, he rings Paul. In just a second, the man is on the other line.

  “I need you to check on the package. Find out who sent it and tell me right away,” he says darkly. Just this morning, he ordered Paul to never interrupt his vacation with Angel. However, things came up, and he just has to get his hands on the truth.

  ***

  They left New Jersey at eight in the evening. While Hunter is busy looking at his computer in their bed chamber where a king-sized ten-inch mattress with gold fabrics rest, Angel indulges her eyes with the luxurious interior of her future husband’s private jet. She did not have the chance to explore it yesterday when they flew to Canada. An hour or two was too short for such activity especially when Hunter kept her close to him. She was able to see the lavish living room with leather upholstery though, as well as the sumptuous hand-woven carpets, crystal chandeliers on the ceiling, and the grand dining room whose walls are made of a
quariums with live animals.

  While exploring, Angel suddenly craves for some biscuits to as she feels her tummy churning. She does not really feel well, and the feeling only started to worsen when the plane took off. This was not the case yesterday. Back then, all was well. Her health has taken a turn. She doesn’t remember eating anything in particular that might have upset her stomach. The blandness of plain crackers might perhaps help the situation, she thought. So, she found her way to the kitchen with the help of the cabin crew where she finds a variety of snacks in the cupboard. Instantly, she helps herself with a pack of unsalted Japanese crackers.

  Studying the large kitchen, which Angel thought to be perfect for making gourmet meals as the cooking equipment appear to be well taken care of, a string of realization suddenly strikes her.

  It’s not only the grand and fabulous kitchen that makes her feel this way.

  It’s everything!

  From the staff, to the luxurious compartments, to their personal bed chamber… Everything about this plane speaks of Hunter’s eccentric life.

  Will she be able to adapt to it?

  All the balls, glitz, glamor, and riches… She had none of these before.

  She has not thought about this until now when she’s got a taste of what Hunter can do to make her happy. Everything that Hunter wants, he gets in seconds—her father’s new kidney, Will’s demands, the trip to the Niagara Falls and now, to Colombia in a short time’s notice. What else can he do? All these are far beyond her reach.

  All her life, she only wanted to graduate from college and have a good job. She absolutely never thought of falling for a man light years ahead of her financially.

  The moment she laid her eyes on him at the auction night, she knew he was someone not to be pushed around. She knew he was heaven while she was earth. She knew a man like Hunter would never take chances on seeing a woman of simple origin. Rich people should be with rich people. Well, that’s why she never thought he was seriously interested in her. Who would think of a billionaire of Hunter’s stature falling in love with a woman whose bank account does not even equate to a tenth of his? More so, everything just seems and feels unreal—surreal even.