CHAPTER ONE
1141 Words
Keira's Point Of View.
I sat in the sterile doctor's office, the harsh fluorescent lights reflecting off the tears streaming down my face. The air felt thick and suffocating.
I hated this place.
I hated coming to the hospital.
But yet- no matter how hard I tried I always found myself here.
My son, Ronan, was in crisis again. His rare blood disorder had flared up with frightening speed, and the doctors were blunt. He needed surgery, and he needed it fast.
"Ms. Diaz," Dr. Lee said gently, placing a comforting hand on me. "I understand this is a difficult time. But Ronan's life depends on this. We need to schedule the surgery as soon as possible,"
"I know, Doctor," I sobbed, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. "I'm doing everything I can....I'll... I'll pay. I promise. Just give me a little more time,"
"I understand your situation, Ms. Diaz and I sympathize with you, really," her face then fell. "But the hospital has policies..."
I cut in, my voice pleading as I leaned forward, holding her hands tightly. "Please, Doctor. I'll figure it out, I will. I have to...but don't let my son die....you watched me bring him into this world....don't let me watch him go,"
Dr Lee let out a shaky breath, her eyes glistening behind her framed glasses. "You have a week."
"Thank you." I whispered, wiping my eyes with my hand. I stood up and bid her good-bye then left her office. My limps felt weak, my throat dry and itchy. I went to the waiting room, where Kiara, my daughter waited.
"Mommy!" Kiara beamed, rushing towards me with her tiny arms spread out. I caught her in my arms, lifting her up. She wrapped her arms around my neck, resting her head on my face. "How's big brother doing? Is he okay?"
I forced a smile, my heart twisting with guilt. "He's going to be okay, honey. Momma's going to make sure of it," I said, rubbing her back gently. "For now, let's go home."
"Okay."
As we walked out of the hospital. I let out a sigh. The weight of everything settled heavily on my shoulders. I had a surgery to pay for, a son to save, a daughter to protect, and live a life that felt like it was crumbling around me.
When we arrived home, Kiara had already dozed off in my arms, her small body warm and pliant against me. The exhaustion etched on her face mirrored my own. I settled her gently into her bed, her unicorn nightlight casting a soft glow around the room. I glanced over at the other side of the room where Ronan bed was.
Just yesterday he was playing with his toys, and now he's spending the night at the hospital unconscious...again.
Unable to control my emotions, I left the room. I couldn't break down there...not in front of Kiara.
After a few moments of composing myself, I went to my room, a quick shower might help. But I was wrong- it barely washed away the day's grime and despair, but I forced myself to make dinner. As I was about to take a bite, my phone chimed, the sound grating on my already frayed nerves. I cringed to see a message from Andres, begging for another chance. Letting out a deep, shuddering breath, I switched off my phone.
I was done with his empty apologies and hollow promises. I had already moved on, and his pleading was pointless.
He would still break my heart again, like he always did. I swore to never let anyone in again...but I tried to- and now I'm the one suffering the pain.
First was Lorenzo.
Now Andres.
At the thought of Lorenzo's name, my heart clenched. I hated how I still missed him, how I still yearned for him after all these years but it was impossible- our worlds were different and he- he's a monster, one that would destroy everyone including me.
Just then, the doorbell buzzed, it's shrill sound making me jump. I walked to the door, peering through the peephole, relief washed over me as I saw Clara's face. I flung the door open, and she rushed in, wrapping me in a comforting embrace.
"Ronan will be alright," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
Tears welled up in my eyes at her words. She said nothing, just rubbed my back gently, her touch felt like a silent reassurance in the face of my overwhelming fear. We stayed like that for some time until I was able to pull away, headed to the dining, though my appetite was long gone.
She sat beside me, her eyes filled with concern. "Keira...instead of doing this, why don't you let me help you?"
I shook my head. "No," I said firmly. "You need the money for school, Clara. You've already sacrificed so much for me and my family. I can't burden you anymore,"
She reached out, holding my arm. "You and the kids aren't a burden to me, Keira, I'll even give my life to save you all,"
My eyes welled up at her words, but I withdrew my hand. "You have a bright future ahead of you Clara. Please...don't say things like that...you're only making my heart break even more,"
"Then what will you do?!" She let out a yell, her frustration evident. "I can't let you go back to that bar! You aren't a stripper Keira!"
"That's what I am!" I yelled back. "It's what I have to do for my son to survive! I stopped and now what happened? I'm f*****g broke and my son is dying...again!"
Her face fell, her brows furrowed. "Keira..that job isn't safe and-"
I cut her off by raising my hand. "I beg of you Clara, my mind has been made up. I've already Sharon and she needs me there by 9pm sharp."
She ran her hands through her hair in frustration, letting out a deep sigh. "Is there nothing to change your mind?"
"No," I said, standing up to clear my plate. "There isn't. I have no choice left." As I walked away, she murmured softly under her breath.
"You have a way out. You just don't want it."
I said nothing and must pretended like I didn't hear what she just said. I dumped the plate into the sink, slamming my fist on the counter.
Fuck!
No one understood. And no one will understand. Going back to Lorenzo was worse than handling my soul to the devil.
He was one being I loathed, yet craved for. One I desired most to be with...but I couldn't, not after everything he had done.
Morever, how was I going to make my children understand that their father is a murderer? They didnt deserve such life...and neither do I.
- Writer
