“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,” she 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.