by Maisey Yates
“I don’t know,” he said, hating himself for not having a better answer.
She closed the distance between them, collapsing against him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her against him, feeling unworthy that she was seeking comfort in his arms. He had nothing concrete to give her. He was of no use.
The minutes stretched on, a concrete bit of evidence of the relativity of time. It felt like hours since he had made that phone call. He found a pair of pants for himself, but bothered with nothing else. He would need to be decent when the helicopter arrived, but he could not take the time to cover more than society demanded.
Tabitha said nothing. Periodically, she would make a small, distressed sound that would pierce his heart and send a wave of pain through his body. The silence, the endless minutes, gave him plenty of opportunity to reflect on the evening. On his actions.
He had lost his control. He had been rough with her, little more than an animal. And now this. Surely it could not be a coincidence. It was a direct result of him losing himself. Losing sight of what he must be. Of what was important. In pursuit of his own emotions, he had compromised her. Their future. The future of the entire kingdom. Five years, and this was the only time they had ever successfully conceived a child, and now they were losing it.
Because of him.
Because he had become everything he despised.
At that moment his phone vibrated, and he looked down and saw a message giving instructions on where they were to meet the helicopter. “Hold on,” he said, scooping Tabitha up into his arms and carrying her down the stairs, outside into the windy night. The approaching helicopter whipped the trees brutally, the sound thundering through his body. “Hold on,” he said again, unsure whether she could hear him over the noise.
The giant machine touched down, and Kairos crossed the space, Tabitha held securely in his arms. Too little too late. Everything he was doing now was too little too late.
He got inside the helicopter, never releasing his hold on Tabitha. “Is anyone in here a medical professional?” The pilot and the only other men inside the cockpit shook their heads. “Then just fly as quickly as you can.”
* * *
Tabitha felt weak, dazed. But then, she imagined an emergency, early-morning helicopter flight and all of the emotional trauma that had gone with it was bound to leave anyone feeling weak and dazed.
She had been in the hospital for a couple of hours now, waiting on results. She’d gotten an ultrasound, but of course the tech hadn’t been able to tell her much of anything. She had to wait for the doctor. And they were also waiting for results of her blood work.
She had dozed off and on. Kairos, as far she could tell, had not even sat down since they’d arrived. She wanted to believe it was concern for her, but after the way he had distanced himself from her last night, she had serious doubts about that. A sinking feeling settled over her, dragging her down. As if she had much farther down to go.
Just then, the door to the hospital room opened and the doctor came in.
“Queen Tabitha,” she said, her voice soft. “King Kairos. I’m very sorry to see you at such a stressful time.”
A distressed sound filled the room, and Tabitha realized it had come from her. Hearing apology on the doctor’s lips had sent a sharp, piercing pain through her. If the doctor was sorry, there was no good news for her. No good news for her baby.
“Your Majesty,” the doctor said, “don’t lose faith. I don’t love the results that I have in front of me, but they could be worse. We were not able to see a heartbeat on the sonogram. But you have not miscarried. There is definitely something. It could very well be that it is just too early to see anything yet. Your hCG levels are quite low. I’m hoping that in a week’s time we will be able to see the heartbeat, and that these levels will have doubled, which will give us an indication for how viable the pregnancy is.”
Tabitha’s ears were ringing. The words the doctor had just spoken were rattling around in her head, as she made an attempt to translate them.
“So she hasn’t lost the baby,” Kairos said, moving to stand nearer to her hospital bed.
“No,” the doctor said, “at least, she hasn’t miscarried. It’s impossible for us to determine whether or not the fetus is viable at this point.”
A tear rolled down Tabitha’s cheek. She wanted the doctor to be angry, to be upset, and she knew that was counter to anything helpful. Still, she felt as if the world was falling apart. The least everyone around her could do was look as if they could see that. Like they could feel it too. Instead of throwing around all these technical terms with a calm, clinical tone that set her teeth on edge.
“Well, that’s good,” Kairos said, his tone as modified as the doctor’s.
“The bleeding could have easily been the result of a blood vessel rupture, and might not indicate any serious issue at all.”
“Until then...” Kairos spoke. “Should she be on bed rest? Should she be doing anything special?”
“If she’s going to miscarry, at this stage bed rest won’t help. Whatever activity she feels up to should be okay.” The doctor finally turned her attention to Tabitha. “Get rest when you feel you need it. Sleep as much as you need to. Just listen to your body.”
“I’m sort of angry at my body at the moment,” Tabitha said. “It isn’t doing what it’s supposed to.”
“It’s hanging on as best it can,” the doctor said. “Don’t be too hard on it. Or yourself. If you’re comfortable with it, I would like to discharge you tonight, so you can spend the week resting at the palace.”
“And if she needs anything?”
“I can be there as quickly as possible, or she can be brought here. But I really do think that since we’re in for a bit of a wait, it’s best if you just go home and make yourself comfortable.”
“A week?” Tabitha asked.
“Yes. Unless... If you miscarry between now and then, we will have our answer. But hopefully, things will stay stable. And when you come back we’ll have good results.”
Tabitha blinked hard, trying to hold back any more tears. “Okay.” She took a deep breath. “Okay.”
“Do you have any more questions for me?”
“That will be all,” Kairos said.
Tabitha didn’t have the energy to protest him making proclamations on behalf of the both of them. She closed her eyes, waiting until she heard the doctor’s footsteps recede from the room.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
She swallowed hard. “I suppose so.”
She stayed silent on the ride home and when he helped her walk into the palace, leading her back to her bedroom. She had not been here in over a month. It felt foreign, strange. She wished very much that she could go back to the island. Go back to earlier yesterday evening. She had felt happy. She had felt as though pieces were finally falling into place. Yes, she knew that she was still going to have to fight to claim him, but she’d been ready to do it. They’d had their fourteen days. And now it was shortened, taken from them. Now they were back here, in the palace, in the middle of reality. Facing an uncertain future. The possibility of a grief that she didn’t feel prepared to handle.
It wasn’t fair. She had finally gotten up the nerve to leave him, only to fall pregnant with his child. And now, after working so hard to forge a connection with him, to try and repair their marriage, she might be losing the baby.
What was the point of any of it?
She extricated herself from Kairos’s firm hold, and crawled onto her soft bed, turning away from him, drawing her knees up to her chest.
“Are you all right?”
“No,” she said, surprised at the strength in her response. “No, I’m not all right. This is wrong. All of it is wrong.”
“I know.”
“Not like I know it,” s
he said, being petulant. Being unfair. Because it was her body that was enduring all of this uncertainty and pain. Because she was the one who cared so much that she had to walk away rather than spend a lifetime in pain, loving a man who didn’t love her back.
The realization made her stomach clench tight. She loved him. Of course she did. She was such a fool, she never even let herself think the words for fear of the deeper implications. For fear of how much pain it would cause her in the future. But it didn’t make it less true.
She wanted to be sick. Realizing that she loved him now, even as the beautiful future she had begun to imagine for them slipped away. If she lost this baby, what would be left for them? More years of trying? Or would he finally be done with her?
She knew the answer. He would stay with her. He had already made that clear. It was one reason he had pushed Andres to marry Zara, because then they could provide the country with an heir.
Misery stole over her. They were going to be right back where they started. Unless he felt differently now.
“I’m very sorry that you’re having to go through this,” he said.
“Aren’t you going through it too?” Now she was just being spiteful. He’d said that he knew. That he understood. And she had attempted to lay a bigger claim to it than he had. Now he was giving her that claim, and she was angry because he didn’t seem as affected as she was.
“Of course I am,” he said. “You have no idea how important this child is to me. As the ruler of the country, it has been instilled in me from birth what my responsibilities are in this role. Producing an heir is at the forefront of those responsibilities at this stage of my life.”
She sat up, anger overtaking some of the weariness. “Is that the only reason it matters to you?”
“Of course not. How can you even ask me that? I have my doubts of what manner of father I’ll be. My own father had an iron fist and he certainly put me on the path to being a good ruler. But in terms of being a father, and not just a drill instructor? I’m not certain he was successful on that score. I want more for our child. I want to be different. And I don’t know how to give it. I’m already worried about it. I’ve already thought about what it would be like to hold this baby. To walk on the beach with him or her, as we did together this week. Do not insult me by asking if the throne is the only reason I care.”
“It’s all you talk about.”
“It’s the easiest thing to talk about.”
Silence settled between them. She wasn’t sure what to say to that. He was right. Talking about the kingdom, the throne, was much easier than discussing feelings. Fears. Much simpler than talking about the feelings that were crowding her chest, making her feel as though she couldn’t breathe. Love. Stupid, terrible love that she didn’t want to feel.
“This has to work,” he said, his tone desperate.
Yes, it did. Because if they didn’t have the baby, what did they have? Nothing more than a cold union, and no reason to try and hold it together. She felt as though she was going to have a panic attack. She couldn’t breathe.
“Tabitha,” he said, his tone suddenly harsh. “Are you okay? You look like you’re going to pass out.”
“I need to lie down.”
“Yes.”
She rested her head on her pillow, pulling the covers up to her chin. “Today was terrible.”
“Tomorrow will be better,” he said, his tone firm and distant.
“Stay with me?” She knew that she shouldn’t ask. She knew that it betrayed too much. But she just wasn’t in a place to protect her pride at the moment.
There was nothing but silence in place of where his answer should be. She waited. And he said nothing.
“Please,” she said.
“I had better not. You need to get some rest. You do not need me taking up any of your mattress. I’ll be in my room if you need me. Keep your phone by your bed, call me if necessary.”
She gritted her teeth, pain, anger lashing at her. “And will you deign to answer these texts? We both know you ignore me very often.”
“I promise I won’t,” he said, his tone like iron.
She said nothing else to him. Instead, she waited for him to leave. She closed her eyes, turning away from him, listening to his footsteps, to the sound of the door closing. Her head was swirling with too many possibilities. Too many thoughts. It was a good thing the media didn’t know about the baby yet. There was no way she could handle any of this publicly, when she had no idea how to deal with it privately.
And why are you thinking about the media at a time like this?
Because that was easier than thinking about her husband.
He was already distancing himself. Truth be told, he had been even before the medical scare.
It was then she realized that for all the talking she had done about her past, he still hadn’t done any talking about his own. Yes, on paper, she knew exactly what had happened during Kairos’s childhood. She knew his mother had left when he was only twelve. But she didn’t know how he felt about it. Didn’t know how it had impacted him at the time. Or how it impacted him now. She had told him everything—about the way her stepfather had died. About why she had worked so hard to change her life.
And all the time he had listened, but he had never given her anything in return. He had quieted any thoughts and concerns with kisses, and she had let him.
Suddenly, she sat up, rolling out of bed and walking toward her bedroom door before she could fully process what she was doing. She was tired. She was distraught. She needed to speak to Kairos.
She padded down the hall to his bedroom, which was situated right next to hers. She didn’t bother to knock, rather she just opened the door. He was standing by his bed, his back facing her, his bare skin filling her vision. No, she couldn’t afford to get distracted by such a thing. Anyway, right now, she was too physically tender to allow sex to cloud what was happening between them.
He turned sharply, his brows locked together. “Are you okay? You don’t need to come to get me. I’ll come to you. You should be lying down.”
“Nothing new happened. But I was thinking. We...we need to talk, Kairos.”
“Do we? I think we both need to rest.”
“Of course you do. Because you don’t want to talk to me. You’re more than happy to allow me to talk to you. In fact, you encourage it. You don’t give me anything in return.”
“Do I not give you anything? You could have fooled me. I thought I gave you quite a bit on the couch last night.”
“Sex is not intimacy,” she said, her voice vibrating with emotion. “It certainly can be. It has been for me. But I don’t think it is for you. I think you use it to distract me. To distract yourself. I have given you so much of myself this past week. I told you about my past. I told you why I left you. What I wanted. For us, for our future. I feel like you’ve given me none of that in return.”
“What is it you want from me, Tabitha?”
“Honesty. It’s time for you to talk to me. I made the choice to trust you, Kairos, and I need you to trust me too. I need to know that we’re going to have more than this distance between us.”
“I can’t promise that.”
“Why not? You’re going to have to do what I did. You’re going to have to make a decision. You should be able to promise too.”
“Well, I’m not going to do that. I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“It is not possible for me. Tabitha, I have to be strong. I have to be the king. I cannot afford to look back and examine my past. And I will not. I cannot afford to be vulnerable. Not to you, not to anything. We will have our child, and everything will make sense. I have to confess to you now that we may never have the marriage that you want. But it is still no less than I ever promised you. I have to serve Petras first. It requires me to maint
ain a certain amount of distance.”
“Kairos,” she said, her throat closing uptight, sorrow filling her chest.
“You will not be unhappy. I think we understand each other better now. I understand you. And this... This is my honesty. It is all I can give. I am sorry if it hurts you. I truly am. But there is nothing to be done.”
She nodded, swallowing hard as she turned away from him. She had tried. She had failed. She didn’t know if there was anything else she could do.
“Good night,” she said, walking out of the room and heading back toward hers. She closed the door firmly behind her, feeling that there was something definitive about it. About this separation. It felt very final.
No matter what, he was never going to drop his guard. He had said it now, admitted to it. He thought everything would be fine because they would have their child, and it would give her purpose. The connection she craved. But if they didn’t, then she would be left with nothing. And even if they did, there was not enough between her and Kairos to want to stay in the union. She loved him. She needed him to love her too, and nothing less.
That, she realized, was the happiness she had been searching for.
She had moved through life looking for status, looking for money, for security. But she had forged no connections. Until her marriage to Kairos. And even then, in a palace, with beautiful clothes, she had been unhappy. There was more to life than that. There was love. That was what she truly craved. No money could buy it, no title could bestow it. And she could not force Kairos to feel it for her.
She lay down on the bed, the cool sheets doing little to ease the hot thrum of anxiety rioting through her veins. She was going to have to make a decision about where to go from here. But not tonight.
Tonight she was just going to sleep. She was going to cling tightly to better thoughts of the future. She wrapped her arms around her midsection and closed her eyes tight. She was going to cling to her baby too. Pray that she made it through the night without more bleeding. Pray that she made it through with this at least.
