Karson was shaking now, but I still couldn’t stop.
“You are not to blame here,” I told him, my voice firm. “I do not blame you. Not even a little bit. You did not pull that trigger. You did not put those events in motion. If a butterfly flapping its wings sets events in motion for a typhoon, that is not the butterfly’s fault.” I reached out to wipe a tear from Karson’s face. “You are the butterfly. Loving me did not sentence me to this.”
I made sure to stare at him as intensely as I was able. “I have a feeling that the focus is going to be on me throughout all of this. Because it was my body. Because she grew inside me. But she came from you. She is you. You watched her grow too. And even though you won’t show it, you’re going to feel a kind of pain that will tear you apart. Not because of your spy training, but because that’s who you are. You want the focus on me. You want me to be taken care of.”
I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment before I opened them again. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to take care of you in the way you deserve. I want to. More than anything in this entire world, I want that. But something inside me tells me I don’t have it in me. Won’t for a long time. So I want to say this now because I won’t have the strength or presence of mind in the future... I love you, Karson Walker. I love you endlessly. With everything that I am. And I apologize in advance if I lose sight of that.”
Karson didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. I didn’t need him to. He didn’t need to give a big speech, apologizing for his actions in advance because he wouldn’t lash out at me. He wouldn’t push me away. He’d be there, steadfast, weathering everything.
I knew that already.
Knew that from now on, he would be a better person than me.
CHAPTER TWO
Shrike – Hozier
People came and went. My parents. My father awkward and somehow too large for the room. He kissed me on the forehead, muttering unintelligible words because he didn’t know what to say, how to comfort me. He loved me very much, I knew that. I could see that. But his need to escape this room was palpable. I didn’t blame him. If I could wrench myself away from my body and fly somewhere far away, become someone else, I’d do it in an instant.
Mom floated around the room, arranging flowers, rearranging them, complaining about the light in the room. “You need proper sunshine to recover, darling,” she chirped without looking me in the eye. “Vitamin D. There are so many studies that show its impact on healing, on the immune system. And this food.” She scowled at the untouched tray in front of me. “It may as well be poison. You need nourishing, healing food. I’ll have my chef whip up the appropriate meals and have them delivered.”
She fluffed pillows, brought me cold-pressed juices… She never stopped, never paused, making sure that there was never a moment for her to get caught in where we might have to acknowledge what had happened, why we were here.
It didn’t bother me. Didn’t hurt me. Not that I had the ability to be hurt anymore. It was almost … comforting. My mother being the exact same, never changing, even in the midst of absolute disaster. I didn’t resent her for not being the kind of mother who cried, who held my hand, hugged me, sat at my bedside. That wasn’t who she was. I’d accepted what I’d get from my mother long ago.
Plus, I had enough people coming in with the hugs, the sitting at my bedside, the choked back tears … the love.
Stella, Yasmin and Zoe came in shifts, making sure I was never alone. Even though Karson barely moved from his position at my side. He slept in the chair, not the cot the nurses had brought in when it was clear he wasn’t going to abide by visiting hours.
At some point, I was alone in the room. I wasn’t quite sure how that happened because I knew that my friends worked in shifts. They had devised some kind of system to ensure I was never alone, not for one moment.
Karson had disappeared for a time, presumably to torture and kill whoever was responsible for the shooting. That neither disgusted nor delighted me. It made sense because Karson had to avenge me. Avenge her. That was his way of coping. He needed to cover his hands with blood.
I understood it.
But I didn’t have any kind of thirst for vengeance. I didn’t have a thirst for much, really.
However it was designed, I was alone when the doctor came in, closing the door quietly behind her. At some point, the doctors had changed. The one with the cold bedside manner and the expensive haircut had been replaced with a warm, kind woman named Abigail. I was sure someone had done this for me. They had good intentions. They thought I needed kindness during the worst days of my life. It made sense. They couldn’t know that the doctor with the warm smile and kind eyes was much, much worse than the douche with the expensive haircut.
I liked him. Appreciated that he was detached, that he delivered news to me like it was just … news. Like it happened every day. Like I wasn’t special. I needed that.
Abigail spoke like a friend. With empathy, with her hand in mine. I ached to rip it from her grasp, but I didn’t want to hurt anyone. Wanted them to think they were helping.
So I didn’t say anything.
Not when she came in, sat beside me, clutched my hand and spoke in soft tones, saying that I most likely would never be able to have children again.
Her eyes glistened as she told me.
Mine were dry.
This news did not surprise me. I already knew.
“Your child will not breathe air or know the warmth of your arms. You will never have another.”
I didn’t tell anyone this news. Why should I? They were already upset enough on my behalf. They were already handling me with kid gloves. I couldn’t stand to be the woman who not only lost her child but the one with the barren womb too. No, that just wouldn’t do. I’d hold this truth close to my chest and make sure no one ever knew.
Not even Karson. Perhaps it was cruel of me to keep it from him. It didn’t matter, though, not really. Not when our future was ruined. Dead.