Chapter Twenty-Four
This was what insanity must feel like, Kyra thought, a bewildering state where a person was so at war inside her own thoughts that she couldn’t make a decision on even the smallest things. Kyra couldn’t seem to grasp how to do the smallest things. As evidenced by the fact that Deenie had just pointed out her work shirt was inside out.
Kyra looked down at herself. “Wow,” she said, startled by that. She’d put on makeup, put up her hair, and looked at herself in the mirror, but she’d been so distracted she’d never noticed the shirt.
“You’re losing it,” Deenie decided.
“Tell me about it,” Kyra muttered.
“Are you nervous about the big day?” Deenie asked and nudged Kyra with her shoulder.
Kyra supposed she meant her wedding and not Ruby’s surgery, which was the Really Big Day in her book. At least Deenie had come around since their talk at the park. She’d even apologized for being judgmental. “I should have been more supportive,” she’d said. “I just wish you’d asked me before you said yes so I could have talked some sense into you, you know?”
“The big day,” Kyra repeated and shook her head. “No, I’m feeling crazed because Ruby’s father showed up.”
“Who?”
“Her sperm donor.”
Deenie gasped. “Get out!”
“It’s true,” Kyra said with a shrug. “He pretty much dropped out of the sky and promised to fix everything for Ruby.”
Deenie sank down onto a bar stool, dumbstruck. “You have to tell me this story.”
Kyra did. And when she was done, Deenie sighed with obvious relief. “Well, thank God, right? At least now you don’t have to get married.”
“Right,” Kyra said.
She didn’t have to get married.
She didn’t have to take advantage of Dax’s kindness, to burden him with her problems.
So why was she sad? Why did she feel like she’d lost her best friend? Why did everything feel turned on its head?
Kyra really didn’t want to marry Dax like this, under these circumstances. She wanted more equal footing. But since Josh had appeared and said he’d take responsibility, something had changed between her and Dax, and Kyra couldn’t figure out what, and she didn’t like it.
She didn’t know how to fix it, and even if she should. Right now, all her energy was focused on getting through the surgery. That was the only thing that drove her. She couldn’t possibly think of the future, or relationships, until she knew what was growing in her daughter’s head.
The constant anxiety of waiting for the MRI results and the surgery put Kyra in a suspended state of agitation—every time she heard her phone ping, she dug it out of her pocket with the madness of someone who was hallucinating about bugs.
Dr. Mehta called when Kyra was on her way home from work Wednesday afternoon. Kyra pulled over to the side of the road. She could hardly hear the doctor, her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears.
“Well, we have the results,” Dr. Mehta said. “It’s very good news, Mrs. Kokinos. The tumor doesn’t seem to be growing. So let’s remove that growth, and then we’ll determine if Ruby needs further treatment.”
“Okay,” Kyra said, relieved. “She’s starting first grade on Monday. How long will she be out?”
“Well, that depends. If all goes well, she’ll be out two to three weeks.”
“And if . . .”
“If necessary, there will be ongoing treatment. Radiation, most likely. But we’ll need the results of the biopsy. You and your pediatric oncologist will discuss that.”
Kyra pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. She felt faint at the mention of yet another doctor. “Thanks, Dr. Mehta. I need to discuss this with Dax . . . and Ruby’s father,” she added reluctantly.
“Yes, of course. I spoke to Josh earlier today. He informed me that you are looking into surgical options in Indianapolis?”
Kyra’s eyes flew open. “What?” She didn’t know what startled her more—that Dr. Mehta had told Josh the results of the MRI before talking to her, or that Josh had assumed the surgery would be in Indianapolis.
“I think the two of you are smart to explore all options,” she said. “There are some great facilities here and in Indianapolis. I know Ruby will be in good hands if that’s what you decide, and since the tumor doesn’t appear to be growing, you have a bit of time to make a decision. Give me a call later this week and we can discuss going forward.”
Kyra thanked her and hung up the phone. She stared straight ahead, her fingers wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, her mind in a blind rage. How dare he. How dare he. She picked up her phone and called Josh.
“Hola,” he answered, as if they were buddies. As if he was on vacation. As if he hadn’t shown up out of the clear blue and taken over Ruby’s life without consulting Kyra.
“You called Dr. Mehta,” she said angrily.
“Ah . . . yeah,” he said uncertainly.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to do that?” she demanded.
“I was going to tell you when I talked to you. What’s the big deal? I was just exploring what options we have, Kyra. And she’d just received the test results and filled me in. What’s wrong with that?”
What was wrong with that? There was so much wrong that she thought she’d explode all over her car. But she said, “Indianapolis?”
“Of course Indianapolis,” he said, sounding annoyed. “What did you think?”
“Well, I damn sure didn’t think Indianapolis!”
“It has to be, Kyra. My insurance coverage is in Indiana. She has to be treated in one of my network locations to get the full benefit. And besides, Riley Hospital for Children is outstanding. Come on, you know how insurance works.”
“No, I don’t know how it works. I never use it because my deductible is through the roof. I don’t know anything other than my daughter needs to have surgery to remove a brain tumor, and suddenly I have to move to Indianapolis? What about her school? What about my job?” What about Dax?
“Well,” Josh said, “you’re waiting tables here. I’m sure you can get a job waiting tables there. And Ruby hasn’t started school yet. She’ll be fine in Indy.”
Tears, which Kyra hadn’t even known were present, began to slide down her cheeks. Forget the logistics—she was scheduled to take the test next week. All that work, all that money. Forget that Ruby was supposed to start first grade next week. What about Dax? Just a couple of days ago, she was planning on marrying him Friday. And now she would just up and leave him? “This can’t be happening,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m telling you now.” She heard a muffled sound, and a moment later, Liz said, “Kyra? It’s Liz. I know this is a lot to take in—”
“No kidding,” Kyra said.
“But think of it this way—you don’t have to live in Indianapolis forever. All you have to do is bring Ruby and get her treated, and then, if you want to come back to East Beach and your job at the Lakeside Bistro, you can. By the way, we ate there last night, and it was fantastic.”
Kyra didn’t give a damn about the bistro or how good the food was. Her life had just been upended again.
“I can’t . . . I have to think about this,” Kyra said, swallowing down her tears.
“Of course you do. Think about it, then give us a call. But the thing is, we need to make a decision quickly.”
“I know,” Kyra said.
She could hear Josh in the background, and a moment later, he was back on the phone. “Kyra, you have to be smart about this. You reached out to me because you couldn’t afford her treatment. I can afford it, but you need to let me do it my way.”
She’d never wanted to punch a man in the face as much as she did in that minute. His way? “Whatever, Josh,” she said and hung up. Why did he have to remind her of her shortcomings? Why did Ruby have to be sick? They’d been good for so long, the two of them against the world. But Kyra would not have known about the tumor until maybe it was too late, had it not been for Dax. She never would have made it through the last few weeks if it hadn’t been for him. And now she was supposed to leave him for Indianapolis?
But what galled her most, what made her feel sick, was that she couldn’t take care of Ruby on her own. She had to rely on one of two men to save her daughter. She had to make absurd choices about her life because she didn’t have the means to care for her daughter.
Kyra didn’t go home right away, but drove to the north end of the lake, where no one ever went. She sat on a bench under an enormous cypress tree and stared out at the water for so long that she began to shiver. When she stood up to leave, she knew what she had to do. She thought it would be less painful if she cut off her right arm, but unfortunately, that wouldn’t help anything.
Ruby was at her easel on the porch, drawing blobs that were supposed to be people, when Kyra arrived home. Dax was sitting on the porch steps, sipping on a beer.
“Hi, Mommy! I’m drawing a picture of you. See?” Ruby asked.
“Ah . . .” Kyra didn’t see, but she nodded. “Yes, there I am, the one on the right.”
“No, that’s Dax. You’re this one,” Ruby said, pointing to another blob, and turned her attention back to her work.
“You’re late,” Dax said casually. “Long day?”
A swell of nausea rose up in her. “You could say that.” She wished she could go back in time, to those days before Josh had shown up. Things hadn’t been great with her and Dax since, because neither of them knew what to do with Josh. Dax had become distant. He was still very much present in their lives, but Kyra could feel the distance stretching between them a little more each day.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and sat next to him. She crossed her arms on her knees and lowered her head a moment, emotionally exhausted. When she lifted her head, Dax put his arm around her shoulders, and Kyra sank into his side. “Dr. Mehta called with the MRI results today.”
“And?”
“And . . . no growth.”
“That’s great news,” he said as he caressed her shoulder. “So when is the surgery?”
“That’s the thing. Josh’s insurance is in Indiana.”
She felt Dax stiffen. He removed his arm and took a long drink from the bottle of beer he was holding. “Yeah, and?”
“Help me out here, Dax,” she pleaded. “What do you expect me to do? I’m between a rock and a hard place. I can take advantage of your kindness and hope that it all works out and we don’t use up all your goodwill. Or I can put the responsibility squarely on her father’s shoulders, where it belongs,” she said, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Ruby was focused on her drawing and not listening. “The only caveat is that I have to move her to be treated. Which one am I supposed to choose?”
He looked down.
Kyra moved to her knees on the step below him, bracing her hands on his knees so he couldn’t avoid her. “You can come with me, Dax,” she said earnestly. “You can make furniture in Indianapolis.”
“And leave my son? Leave the clientele I have worked to build?” He shook his head. “What about your real estate license? You’ve worked hard for that, too.”
She’d thought about that. “I’ll take the test. Then, when I come back—”
“Come back?” he scoffed. “Are you really coming back, Kyra? Have you honestly thought about that? What if she requires a long-term kind of treatment? What if you settle in and get a job and Ruby becomes attached to her dad? Will you ever come back?”
“Yes,” she said adamantly. “I don’t want to leave you,” she whispered. But she knew, even as the words came out of her mouth, that she couldn’t any more plan for a future than she could predict what would happen with Ruby. She couldn’t even say what would happen tomorrow—there were just too many what-ifs.
“And yet you’re thinking about it,” he said dubiously.
“Because I have no choice.”
Dax shook his head. “You have a choice. We had planned to get married Friday, remember? There’s your other choice.”
“A shotgun wedding that we’d be rushing into for the sake of your insurance,” she said. “Which is so incredibly generous of you, Dax. But it’s not the best thing for us, is it? We could get married Friday and hope—hope—that it works out between us and that our relationship develops, because if it doesn’t, I will have a daughter who may be facing radiation and is in love with you. And then what?”
He looked over her, to the lake.
“None of this changes my feelings about you. I still love you,” she said. “But . . . but is this what you really want to do now that her father has stepped up? I’m just thinking of what’s best for Ruby and for you and me.” She wanted to assure him, but when she looked into his stormy blue eyes, she saw the same uncertainties in him she had been feeling. She saw hurt and confusion. “You have to admit, a marriage right now is not ideal.”
He sighed and rubbed his nape. “Of course it’s not ideal,” he said bitterly and glanced at his hand. “So where does this leave us? We can’t exactly date if you’re in Indianapolis.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know. All I can do is focus on Ruby right now. All I can do is get through this crisis.”
Dax held her gaze for a long moment. She thought he would argue, but at last he put his hands on top of hers and said, “Yeah, I get it.”
“Do you?” she asked and turned her hands palms up under his, squeezing her fingers around his. “Do you really understand?”
“I’m doing the best I can, Kyra. I’m trying.” He put his beer aside and stood up. Kyra’s hands floated away from him. “Ruby’s had her supper,” he said and started down the porch steps.
“Wait . . . where are you going?” Kyra exclaimed.
“To get a drink,” he called over his shoulder and kept walking.
With every step he took, Kyra felt her heart shatter a little more, her breath grow a little shallower. She was overwhelmed with the despair of uncertainty. How could she know she was doing the right thing? How could anyone know what the right thing was in a situation like this?
Kyra felt sick with fear that she’d ruined everything. She fretted how to tell Ruby that they were going to a new city and—the thing she hadn’t yet told her—that she had to have an operation on her head. She fretted how to tell Ruby that Dax and Otto weren’t going with them. Her belly churned with such anxiety that she couldn’t touch the sandwich she made herself for supper.
There had been no sign of Dax since he’d walked off her porch—his truck was gone, and there were no lights in his house. A gloom had settled in over the lake that seemed to seep through the cracks into their cottage. Even Ruby seemed distant tonight. Kyra didn’t want it to end this way—she didn’t want it to end. Had she not been clear enough about that?
She put Ruby to bed but dragged her feet at turning in herself, hoping that by some miracle Dax would appear and tell her yes, he would move to Indianapolis.
She was kidding herself with that kind of fantasy. He would never leave Jonathan, any more than she would leave Ruby.
Kyra robotically went about picking up the house and the endless stream of clothes and shoes and toys. She made the kitchen sparkle. She cleaned Ruby’s new sneakers.
And still Dax didn’t come back.
At last she gave in to fatigue. She brushed her teeth and washed her face, then piled her hair in a knot on her head. She was on her way to bed when she heard the rumble of his truck. Her heart instantly began to race with anxious hope and a little bit of fear. She hurried to her front door and opened it, peering into the dark through her screen door. But she couldn’t see anything and stepped out onto the porch, moving to the steps, searching in the near dark for him.
She spotted him then—he was standing on the lawn between their houses, his legs braced apart, staring at her. They stood frozen in that moment, each staring at the other through the inky light of night. Then Dax began to stride toward her. Kyra came down the steps tentatively, still unsure of his mood. But then Dax began to jog, and so did she, running to him, launching herself at him, wrapping her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck.
He hoisted her up and somehow managed to carry her up the porch steps and to her room, kissing her the entire way. It was feverish between them, as if they were in a race against time. Maybe they were racing against their own thoughts, because certainly Kyra’s brain was filled with confusion and love and desire to the point she couldn’t think clearly. She could only feel—it was pure sentience between them, it was urgent, and it was blind.
He moved like a wild man, his hands and his mouth everywhere and frantic. He kissed her cheeks, her brow, her breasts, her mouth. It was the first time she’d felt him out of control, and it ignited her. She wanted him to lose control, to take her and fill her up, to pound against the inescapable need she had for him.
Her hands skirted over every plane and bulge, every angle and curve of his body. She wanted this moment seared into her consciousness so that she’d never forget it. She didn’t know how she could leave him, she didn’t know how she would function without him. She didn’t know if it was the end, or a postponement, or maybe, please God, a beginning, but she would knit it into her soul and her memory.
He abruptly lifted his head and looked at her. His gaze was probing, seeking something from her. There was so much sadness and despair in his gaze that Kyra felt it at her core.
Not the beginning, then.
“How did this happen?” he asked. She could hear the scrape of raw emotion in his voice and felt the same scrape across her heart. She didn’t know if he was asking how they’d come together or how they were being rent apart. She had no answers. So she responded by taking his head in her hands and kissing him softly. A lover’s kiss.
He growled as he slid into her. He began to move, his body pressing home inside her, gently at first, then harder and faster, almost as if his frustration had spilled into their lovemaking and was driving them both to an end.
A shattering end.
They lay spent by their emotions and the volatile sex, their limbs wound around each other, neither of them willing to let go just yet.
But eventually Dax stroked her arm and said low, “Otto and I are going to spend a couple of days down on the shore.”
Kyra stilled. The warmth began to seep out of her. “When?”
“We’ll go tomorrow. After I talk to Ruby.”
The burn of tears began to build behind Kyra’s eyes, but she refused to give in to them. She rose up on her elbow.
“Why tomorrow?”
“Is there a better time? Or would you rather I stick around and help you move?”
That remark pricked her heart. “No, of course not,” she murmured. She understood him—he was hurt by her leaving, and he couldn’t bear to watch her leave any more than she could bear to leave him. “I don’t even know when we’ll go,” she said.
“Yes, you do,” he said low. “You have to go now. Every day you spend second-guessing yourself is a day that tumor could be out of her head.”
She didn’t need the reminder—the thought of that thing in Ruby’s head never left her. “I do love you, Dax. Do you know it? I love you so much.”
He sighed into her neck.
The tears clouded her vision as she put her arms around his neck and held him close. “I’m so sorry we ended up here. I’m so very sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, Kyra. But I don’t have to watch the two of you go.”
There it was, then—the best sex of her life had just turned into the worst sex of her life. It was breakup sex.
Well, it worked—she felt truly and utterly broken.