Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(108)

Keira’s mother never wore slippers. Even at home, when no one was expected, when she wouldn’t be entertaining her friends or pretending that the shine of their lives was tarnished, she always took care with her footwear. Wedges, sandals, pumps and heels, all designer, all obnoxiously expensive, but the woman did not own a single pair of slippers.

It was slippers, though, that Keira saw when she blinked awake. They were pink, thin, and very clean, as though they’d just been pulled from cardboard and plastic. Her eyes shifted up her mother’s legs, over the charcoal slacks she wore and onto the pink cardigan slung on her shoulders. The sweater was fastened with a broach, diamonds that were as bright, as clean as the perfect polish on her mother’s pink nails.

Keira stared at that broach, gaze blurring at the sparkle reflected against the overhead light and she did not put much thought into the pounding that was drumming in her head or the burning ache of her shoulder. She pretended to feel nothing and Keira believed if she stared long enough at her mother’s polished appearance and that shining jewel below her throat, time would not press forward. She would not be in this hospital, sore and bruised.

Luka would not be dead.

“I’ve called the nurse, Keira. She’ll fetch you some pain meds.”

“I don’t want them.” She didn’t look at her mother when she spoke, didn’t move her eyes from that gaudy broach until the woman came to her bedside. And when she lifted her eyes, shot a quick glimpse at the scowl on her mother’s face, Keira returned to the distracting blur that dulled her attention.

“You’ve really done it now, haven’t you?”

“Mother, please don’t. Not yet.”

“When would you recommend we discuss this mess?”

The nurse came in and her mother stepped back, let the woman in the blue scrubs fiddle around with Keira’s I.V. and push a thermometer in her ear.

“How’s your pain?” the nurse asked, smiling down at Keira; a soft grip on her hand. Keira tried to return the woman’s smile; she had a kind face, wide mouth, teeth straight and clean, and hazel eyes that shone against the cocoa cream of her skin. But Keira could not bring herself to do much more than stare at her, blinking once before she shrugged. “We’ll need to monitor you tonight and in the morning you’ll go down for your procedure.”

“What procedure?”

The nurse exchanged a glance with Keira’s mother before she patted Keira’s arm. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. Dr. Mitchell does terminations every week and she’s very gentle.” The nurse picked up Keira’s chart and scribbled along the form, attention away from Keira’s open-mouth expression.

“Wait. What are you talking about? I thought I just sprained my elbow. What termination?”

Those slippers again, tiny feet that approached the bed and the dull ache in Keira’s chest smarted. “It’s fine, I’ll explain everything to her,” Keira’s mother said, nodding toward the door, dismissing the nurse.

Her nametag read “Renée” with a little accent over the first “e” and that kind smile dropped from her face. “You let me know if you want anything for the pain, okay, sweetie?”

Keira inched herself up, brushing off her mother’s attempts to help her and she moved her leg away from the edge of the bed when the woman sat down. She wouldn’t look directly in Keira’s face; didn’t seem interested in anything other than her long nails.

“You want to explain what the hell is going on, Mother?”

Finally, Cora rested her hands on her lap and when she looked at Keira, her eyebrows arched as much as the Botox would allow, she frowned.

“You’re pregnant. About five weeks.”

That revelation hit Keira like an anvil to the chest. She turned away from her mother’s frown and dates, weeks, flitted through her mind. When was her last period? When could this have happened? She took her pill religiously, every night, eight p.m. like clockwork and she and Kona were always careful.

The shower, she thought. The damn shower.

“Are they sure? How… wait, I don’t understand…”

“They’re sure. It’s one of the tests they ran when you came in. They had to know before they did the X-rays. You were down with the flu last month, remember? All those antibiotics.” Her mother rolled her eyes as though she thought Keira was the simplest, stupidest idiot she’d ever seen. “Antibiotics counteract the pill.” Keira could only stare at her mother, ignoring how deep her frown had pulled wrinkles on the side of her face. Keira didn’t care about the scowl the woman gave her or how her lip twitched with a curl. She was carrying Kona’s baby.

A baby?

It didn’t seem real; felt somehow like she was outside of herself; like this was a dream, a nightmare that was vividly, achingly detailed. She didn’t know how she felt. The news was raw, a gaping wound that bled as hard as Luka’s loss. Then a small thought came to her. Would this baby heal Kona’s broken heart? Would it be a small replacement for the brother that had been stolen from him?

Wait. Termination. The word felt dirty, bitter and when Keira realized what her mother wanted, what she’d already planned, and that small glimmer of hope in her chest dulled.

“I’ve spoken with Kona’s mother.”