Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 63970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Kori shook her head as she stood in front of Sarah. “I am trying my best to figure out if you kept this from me because you don’t remember how family works or because you thought we wouldn’t want to be bothered. I don’t give a shit that we don’t share an ounce of blood. You are my sister. I will always be here for you even if being here means yelling at you when you’re sick because you didn’t give me the option of being kind. It doesn’t matter what options you give me, I’ll still be here and so will Kai.”
She flicked the switch to turn the coffeepot on. “I know that. It was never about that.”
“Then what was it about?”
She didn’t want to have this conversation and she finally realized why. She’d been avoiding this in her head. “I told you. I didn’t want to bug anyone about it.”
“That can’t possibly be the reason,” Kori insisted.
“I didn’t want you to tell Jared. I knew if he found out that he would show up to save the day, and I don’t need to be saved. I’m too busy saving myself.” That’s what she was doing. She was making the decision to save herself. She knew Jared. He would have immediately shown up with flowers and promises. It was part of his nature.
“I wouldn’t have told him if you asked me not to.”
“But you would have told Kai.”
“I would have,” Kori agreed. “I wouldn’t have been able to get through something like this without him, but if I’d asked him to, he would have kept it secret, too. God, Sarah, you can’t expect the rest of us not to care about this. I don’t understand.”
Anger flared through her. Irrational rage was suddenly a wildfire in her system. “I didn’t tell you because you never wanted kids. I didn’t tell you because you would have laughed it off and told me to get a couple of dogs and they would be better companions anyway.”
Kori’s face went white and tears shone in her eyes. “I would never have said that to you.”
“You joke about it constantly.” Her hands were shaking.
Kori took a deep breath and seemed to steady herself. “I made the choice and I have to face it every day. I face it from every single person in the world who thinks they should have some say in how my husband and I choose to live our lives and express our love. Do you know how many people ask me when we’re having kids? Like every single one of them. When I tell them we’re not they smile smugly and say I’ll change my mind. I never wanted kids. I’m not wired that way. Does that make me less a woman? Because there are a whole bunch of people out there who tell me it does. I joke about it because if I don’t I’ll choke out the next person who tells me I can’t live a complete life without procreating. But Sarah, I always thought you would. Kai and I have joked about how much we would spoil any babies you had with Jared. Do not think for one second I would mock your pain. I feel it.” She touched her chest. “I feel it with you. I feel it for me because I wanted so much to see another Sarah in this world. I wanted that for my sister. I wanted that for my brother-in-law. God, I wanted that for me.”
Something broke inside her, some wall cracking at the sight of her friend’s tears. All these weeks she’d been a rock. She’d told herself it was for the best. She’d told herself she’d never really wanted kids anyway and that she was happy with her life. How odd it was to want something so badly only when it was no longer a possibility.
Tears slipped from her eyes. “I wanted it. I wanted kids. I told myself I didn’t, but deep down I always thought I would get married and have a family.”
“You have a family,” Kori insisted through her tears. “It’s weird, but it’s real.”
She looked down and Lahki was staring up at her, her doggie eyes wide and filled with sympathy. The pup couldn’t possibly know what she was feeling, why tears were streaming down her face, but it didn’t matter to her. The only thing that mattered to Lahki was someone she cared about was hurting and she wanted to help.
And wasn’t that the most human thing of all?
She got to her knees and held the dog close, letting her tears flow. She hadn’t cried once, not even when she’d opened that envelope and seen the results. Not when she’d sat in the doctor’s office and looked at the statistics. Not when she’d made the decision to have surgery.