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I glance over at Kiera and she’s sitting up again, staring at her hands. “I’m sorry, baby,” I murmur and brush my lips over her temple.
That seems to jolt her out of her trance and her head lifts. She looks at Dr. Segal. “Can I go home after the D&C?”
“Of course. You’ll stay in the recovery room for a few hours, then Bain can take you home. I’ll give you more detailed recovery instructions.”
Kiera nods. “Okay.”
“Any other questions?”
She shakes her head so he looks at me.
Yeah… a million fucking questions but only one that matters.
Where do we go from here?
CHAPTER 30
Kiera
The murmured voicesdrifting from the kitchen to me in the living room are grating on my nerves. I’ve been camped out on the couch all day, doing a rewatch ofSons of Anarchy. I need something hard and brutal to take my mind off… well, things that are hard and brutal.
It’s finally sinking in.
Yesterday was pretty much a blur. I try not to think about it, but flashes filter through. I knew I was miscarrying when the cramps hit. They were so painful that I immediately knew what was going on. I have vague recollections of Bain caring for me. He was strong and steady, knowing exactly what to do, and yet somehow, I can’t seem to really appreciate it.
Maybe I will in time.
But for right now, the fact he’s in the kitchen with Drake and Brienne, talking so low I can’t hear makes me want to slap him.
I want to slap Drake and Brienne too.
I don’t need to be treated as if I’m fragile. I’m tired of Bain looking at me like a lost puppy and Drake looking confused and Brienne looking like she’s going to burst into tears.
Reaching out, I nab the remote and turn up the volume to try to drown them out. All it does is pull attention to me and Bain is there. “Do you need something?”
“Yeah… I need to be able to hear the TV,” I say glibly, tossing the remote back onto the coffee table. I curl my legs in, wrap my arms around the pillow and let my eyes drift back to Jax and the guys pulling out on their bikes.
The weight of Bain’s stare is oppressive. I know if I were to look at him, I’d see confusion because I’m not acting at all like myself.
But how does one act in a situation like this?
He’s hovered over me since we got home from the hospital yesterday. I had the D&C with no complications. Dr. Segal said I might have some spotting and cramps for a week or two and absolutely no tampons or sex until my follow-up appointment so he can make sure I’m fully healed.
I almost laughed at that because I’m pretty sure I’m never having sex again.
“Can I get you anything?” Bain asks hesitantly.
Yeah, you can quit fucking looking at me like that, I want to scream. Instead, I manage a small smile. “I’m good. Thanks.”
His return smile is hesitant as he lifts the light blanket pulled up over my hips and tucks it around my shoulders. His lips brush over my head and he turns to head back into the kitchen where my brother and future sister-in-law do their own hovering from a distance.
Even as my heart squeezes in pleasure over his kind act, I shrug off the blanket, pushing it back down to my hips. It’s a sullen, bratty move, which is so unlike me, but I can’t help it. The emotions running through me are too much to process. I feel like I’m precariously perched on the edge of a jagged cliff and there’s a terrifying drop before me, yet the safety of the solid ground behind me seems hollow… almost imaginary. There’s a tight knot of anger deep in my chest, not only for losing the baby but for rushing so fast into this relationship with Bain because I got pregnant. I threw out every bit of protection I had enshrouded myself in so I wouldn’t get hurt again. While I know it’s not Bain who hurt me, I can’t help but tie him to the irrationally terrible thoughts.
Bain and I only grew closer because I got pregnant. It was the catalyst that drove us forward. Without that baby to tie us together, there’s nothing to keep the bond in place.
So yes, I’m fucking angry.
And so goddamn sad because it’s not just that the baby is gone, it’s that the foundation of what we’ve built has disappeared with it.
