AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I don’t know why I keep crying about it,” I sniffed.
“Oh, honey. Of course you’re going to cry about it. You’re mourning a life you don’t get to have. A future that was taken from you. We don’t know why certain things happen, but they do. So you just feel how you feel and don’t fight it. That’s all there is to it.”
“I didn’t even know I was pregnant.” I lifted myself out of her arms so I could grab a tissue from the nightstand.
“Doesn’t mean you wanted it any less.”
“Smoke, he—he said it didn’t matter to him. That if Knox hadn’t come back and done what he’d done, and we’d found out I was pregnant, he would’ve stayed. He would’ve raised the baby with me because he loves me.”
“He said that?”
“Yeah.”
She paused for a moment and said, “If your father tries to give him any more grief, I’ll—”
“You can’t tell Dad,” I interrupted. “He can’t know about the miscarriage.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“That’s not a reason,” she said gently.
“Getting involved with Knox might’ve been a mistake. My pregnancy might’ve been an accident. But it’s still…I wanted it.”
“And you don’t think your father will understand that?”
“It’s too raw. Maybe I’ll tell him one day. But for now, can this please stay between us?”
“Of course, LoLo. Whatever you need right now.”
I blew my nose. “You didn’t guess? At all?”
“How would I have guessed something like that?”
“You helped me to the bathroom and saw I was wearing a pad.”
“I thought you were you on your period and didn’t think anything of it.”
“Oh.” I nodded.
“Is that the only thing bothering you?” she asked.
“No. I’ve been thinking about Knox, too. About Smoke protecting me. It’s all wrapped up in this big ‘ole mess I don’t know how to unravel.”
“It’s a lot,” she agreed. “Just take it one moment at a time. One feeling at a time.”
It was good advice. It might’ve been hard to live it, but I’d try.
There was a knock on the door and Mom got up from the bed to answer it. It was room service with our food. The attendant came in and asked if we’d like the trays on the small table in the corner.
“On the bed is fine,” Mom said.
The attendant placed the trays on the bed and then left.
“Well, bon appétit,” Mom said as she lifted the lids off the plates and then handed me the quiche.
My mother was mid bite of her poached eggs when her cell phone rang. She went to the small table where it rested, plugged in, and looked at it.
