Rita's Unseen Destiny.

Naome's eyes welled up with tears. "Our poor Rita. We have to be strong for her." 

 David nodded, putting his arm around Naome. " We will, dear. We will get through this together.

 As they walked to their car, Naome suddenly stopped. "David, what if Carlson is behind this ? What if he has done something to our daughter?" 

 David's expression turned stern. I will investigate Naome. I promise, but let's not jump to conclusions. We need to focus on Rita's recovery right now." 

 Naome nodded, but her eyes still held a glimmer of suspicion. What was Carlson hiding? And was he responsible for Rita's condition? Only time will tell.

 As soon as Carlson stepped out of the hospital, the weight of Rita's rejection crushed him. He felt like he had been punched in the gut, unable to catch his breath.

 The cool evening air did little to calm his racing thoughts. Without a clear direction, Carlson found himself wandering aimlessly until he stumbled upon adimly lit bar. The neon sign creaked in the gentle breeze, beckoning him to enter. Carlson didn't hesitate, he pushed open the door and slid onto a stool, hoping to drown his sorrow.

 The bar attendant, a gruff but kind-eyed man, raised an eyebrow as Carlson ordered a whiskey on the rocks. "Rough day, buddy?" he asked, his tone sympathetic.

 Carlson nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The bar attendant nodded knowingly and slid the drink down the counter. Carlson tossed it back, feeling the burn all the way down. He ordered another, and another, until the room began to spin.

 As the night wore on, Carlson's thoughts grew increasingly jumbled. He couldn't shake the image of Rita's angry face, or the sound of Rita's anguish cries. The wine blurred the edge of his pain, but it couldn't erase the ache in his heart.

 At some point, the bar attendant cut him off, sliding a cup of black coffee down the counter instead. "Time to call it a night, friend, "he said gently.

 Carlson nodded, his head spinning. He fumbled for his phone. Trying to call Samuel, his personal driver, to come and pick him up. But his fingers felt like rubber. The bar attendant took pity on him, calling acab himself.

As Carlson stumbled out of the bar, the cool night air slapped him in the face, momentarily clearing his head. He looked up at the stars, wondering how his life had spiraled so out of control.

 The taxi ride home was a blur. Carlson vaguely remembered stumbling into his apartment, collapsing onto the couch, and passing out.

 The next morning, Carlson woke up with a pounding headache and a dry mouth. He groggily sat up. Rubbing his temples. The events of the previous night came flooding back, and he groaned, feeling like he had hit rock bottom.

 Carlson slowly got up from the couch, staggering to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. His head was pounding, and his mouth felt like the Sahara desert. He downed the water in one gulp, then leaned against the counter trying to gather his thoughts. As he looked around the apartment, he was lit with a wave of loneliness. The silence was oppressive, and he felt like he was drowning in his own misery.

 He thought about Naome and Rita, and how they were both slipping away from him. He thought about the baby, and how he would never get to hold her again in his arms.

 Carlson's eyes stung as he felt tears prick at the corners. He was a failure, he thought. A failure as a husband, a father and as a man.

 Just then, his phone buzzed on the couch he was sitting on. Carlson hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should answer or not. But something compelled him to pick it up.

 "Hello," he said, his voice rough from sleep. " Carlson, it's David", his father-in-law said on the other end. " I need to talk to you about Rita.

 Carlson's heart skipped a beat. " What is it? He asked, his voice laced with worry.

 "We need to discuss the best course of treatment for her, "David said. "Can you meet me at the hospital in an hour?" 

 Carlson nodded, even though David couldn't see him. I will be there," he said.

 As he hung up the phone, Carlson felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just may be, he could find a way to make things right again.

 Carlson arrived at the hospital an hour later, feeling a mix of emotions. He was anxious to see Rita and learn more about her condition, but he was also nervous about facing David and Naome again.

 As he walked into the hospital room, he saw David and Naome sitting in chairs, looking sober. Rita was lying in bed, her eyes closed.

 "Hey," David said, standing up to greet Carlson. "Thanks for coming. I want to talk to you about Rita's treatment." 

 Carlson nodded, feeling a sense of determination. " What do the doctors say?"

 David hesitated before speaking. The doctors say Rita is experiencing severe postpartum psychosis. They recommend a combination of medications and therapy to help her recover." 

 Carlson felt a pang of guilt, a regret. He should have been more supportive, more understanding. He should have been there for Rita.

 " What can I do to help? He asked, feeling a sense of determination.

 David looked at him seriously. " Right now, the best thing you can do is give Rita space. She is not ready to see you yet." 

 Carlson felt a sting from David's words, but he understood. He had messed up, and now he has to face the consequences.

 " I understand," he said. But can I at least wait outside, Incase Rita needs me?"

 David nodded. " Yes, you can wait outside. But please, Carlson, don't try to see Rita unless she asks for you."

 Carlson nodded, feeling a sense of relief. It was a small step, but it was a start.

 Wait outside, I will go check on Rita," David said, standing up.