“It’s Christmas?” I ask. “Hell, how much time has passed?”
“Enough.” Killian grows serious. “You lost a lot of blood, and you’ve been in the ICU for a few days. They finally moved you today. It was a Christmas miracle.”
I slowly look around the room and spot a few flower arrangements, but that’s about it, nothing else.
No one else.
“Where’s Cora?”
“Not sure,” Killian says. “When I arrived, she wasn’t here. She did call me, though, and from what the nurses told me, she didn’t leave until the day I arrived. I don’t think she wanted you to be alone. But she sure as hell didn’t want to be here, either. Care to explain what happened?”
“Pa,” I say while shifting in pain. “He told Cora why I didn’t want the marriage annulled. With bonus bullshit.” I take another sip of water, my throat burning.
“Hell.” Killian drives his hand through his hair. “I’m assuming that’s why she’s not here.”
“She’s who I was chasing after when I got in my accident.”
“That makes sense.” He leans back in his chair and blows out a heavy breath. “I’m sorry, man. Besides all the pain, how are you feeling?”
I glance down at my body, then back at him. “Could be better.” Knowing I’m pushing my luck, I ask, “Has she asked how I am?”
He shakes his head. “No. I’ve given her updates, but she hasn’t texted back.” He pulls his mobile from his pocket and types out a text.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Telling her you’re awake and asking about her.”
I take in a large bouquet of purple flowers and green sprigs. I can just barely read that the arrangement is from Forest Heights. “She probably won’t care. She wants nothing to do with me.”
“I wouldn’t say she doesn’t care,” Killian says. “If she didn’t care, she wouldn’t have called me, and she wouldn’t have stayed in your hospital room until I showed up. She’s probably too hurt to stick around, though.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” I cough a few more times.
Killian offers me some water, and after I drink enough that my throat no longer feels like sandpaper, he sets the cup on the bedside table and shakes his head. “I can’t imagine what it must have been like for her here, seeing you like this, knowing your fight, your deceit, is the reason for all of this.”
“She’s so fucking strong,” I say with a sigh.
“She is,” Killian agrees. “And you fucked it up.”
“I did.” My eyes feel heavy, so I slip them shut. “And knowing her and her past, I don’t think there’s any recovering from this.”
“Hello, dear sir.”
“Uh, hi,” Killian says. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, I am here to pay my respects to Pike.”
Keiko.
“He’s not dead,” Killian says.
“I’m aware of his immortality. But I do still need to pay my respects as a friend.”
“What?”
“Killian,” I say, my voice groggy. “It’s okay. It’s Keiko.”
I’ve had many conversations with Killian, trying to explain the odd bond I have with Keiko. On her wedding day—well, the reciting of her vows to Kelvin day—I sent a picture of my outfit to Killian. He saved the picture as my contact image in his mobile. I don’t blame him one bit. So he knows all too well about the perplexities of Keiko Seymour.
“Oh, Keiko.” Killian stands and offers his hand to her, but she doesn’t take it. She stands stiff, staring at him. Awkwardly, Killian stuffs his outstretched hand into his pocket and says, “I’ve heard so much about you. Congratulations on the recent nuptials and pregnancy.”
“Congratulations are not necessary but are accepted. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I request the room to be emptied while I speak with Mr. Greyson.”
“Uh, okay.” Killian glances at me and then says, “I’ll grab something to eat.”
I don’t see Keiko yet because she’s still in the hallway. After a few silent seconds, she skirts past the corner, entering the room.
Her normally perfect coif is askew and falling out of her ponytail. Her clothes—mismatched like always—give off the impression of maybe being slept in from their crumpled appearance. And even though round-rimmed glasses distract from her weary eyes, I can still see the dark circles that cloud her usually alert eyes.