CHAPTER SIX
The next couple of weeks passed slowly for Kiara. It was an endless cycle of nausea, occasional vomiting, and exhaustion. She had hoped that the end of the first trimester would bring her relief, but she wasn’t too confident that would be the case, unlike how it was for so many other women.
Though Kiara no longer took part in the self-defense training or target practice, Lucy took her out driving two or three times a week.
She was still determined to get her driver’s license at some point, but the overwhelming need to get it had definitely subsided.
The unmoored feeling that she’d been dealing with since coming to the estate had also lessened now that she had her pregnancy and impending parenthood to focus on.
As the weather warmed and the snow started to melt, she tried to get out for a walk each day.
Sometimes, Angie would join her, but her sister still had self-defense training and target practice taking up her time.
Kiara wasn’t sure Angie’s focus on those things was because she wanted to improve.
It likely had more to do with spending time with Jude.
Her feet scuffed on the asphalt road as she left the parking area behind the large house. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her light jacket as she headed down the road.
As they did most days, her steps took her in the direction of the house that was being built for her and Angie. It was going up at a rapid pace, more rapidly than she’d initially imagined it would.
She’d heard Jude and Duncan discussing it, and Duncan had said that he’d requested longer working hours on the house without concern for the increased cost.
As the house came into view, Kiara’s steps slowed to a stop. She gazed at it, wondering if she’d get a chance to live in it. She had no idea how things would unfold for her and Julian when he returned from the treatment center.
Duncan might have forced the marriage, but at least to her knowledge, he hadn’t insisted they live together. It was entirely possible that she’d move into the house with Angie as planned, and Julian would return to his home in New York. That wouldn’t be the worst way for things to pan out.
Kiara pulled her left hand from her pocket and stared down at the ring Julian had put there. It was a simple, slender gold band. There was no matching engagement ring, specially chosen for her by a man who loved her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
She curled her fingers into a fist and shoved her hand back into her pocket, removing the ring from her sight.
Even two weeks later, she still wasn’t used to having the ring on her finger. There were moments when she forgot it was on her hand and that she was married. But far more frequent were the moments when the ring felt like it was made of the heaviest metal known to man.
Kiara walked on, following the winding road toward the construction site. She needed to keep moving. Doctor Misha had said exercise was good for her, though on some days even getting out of bed felt like climbing a mountain.
Workers in hard hats moved across the property like industrious ants, the steady rhythm of hammers and the whine of power tools filling the air.
She kept her distance, not wanting to be in the way, but she was close enough to observe the progress.
The foundation was complete, and the framing had gone up quickly. Soon, they'd be working on the roof.
She rested her hand on her stomach, which had only just begun to swell, a gesture that had become second nature. As she stood there, she tried to imagine herself living there with a baby. The idea of leaving the estate was no longer a consideration since marrying Julian.
Her child would have such a different upbringing than she and Angie had had.
He or she might live in a rural setting, but the estate was a far cry from the homestead.
And it wasn’t just a better home that she could offer the baby.
Kiara was determined to raise her child comfortable in the knowledge of their mom’s love and care for them.
There would be no abuse of any kind heaped on the child the way it had been on Kiara. And fear wouldn’t have a starring role in the child’s emotions.
Angie would likely say that Kiara had been brave and protective, but that didn’t mean Kiara had felt no fear during their years at the homestead.
She’d just chosen to shift her fear for her own wellbeing to Angie.
Knowing she had to take care of her younger sister and protect her had given Kiara a bravery she might not have otherwise had.
Unfortunately, it had resulted in a more…
stressful life for Kiara. She didn’t regret having protected Angie the way she had, but it had made things more difficult.
There was no doubt she’d also protect her child in the way she’d protected Angie, but living on the estate, she didn’t think it would be necessary.
Turning from the construction site, Kiara continued her trek along the road. She passed Annie’s house, then headed back in the direction of the main house.
By the time she reached the back door, she was ready to get off her feet. She stepped into the mudroom and removed her jacket and shoes before heading further into the house.
“Kiara.”
She turned to see Duncan coming from the direction of the breakfast room.
“How are you doing today?”
Whenever he saw her, he asked that, concern on his face.
He’d wanted her to be seen by the doctor he used for family medical concerns, but Kiara was quite happy with Doctor Misha.
The woman was gentle, and any concern she had was for both Kiara and the baby.
She wasn’t just concerned about Kiara for the baby’s sake, like it felt Duncan was.
“I’m doing okay. Just enjoyed a nice walk.”
Duncan smiled. “That’s good. Did you go by your house?”
“Yes. They’re making great progress.”
“They are,” Duncan agreed. “I’m hoping it will be ready a couple of months ahead of the original schedule. Have you been making decisions about the interior work?”
Kiara nodded. “Yes. The interior designer has been sending Angie and me lots of options. Almost too many.”
“It can be overwhelming, so if it’s too much, just tell her. Perhaps she can narrow things down a bit more for you. By the way,” Duncan said as he held out a white envelope. “This came for you.”
Taking it, Kiara looked down at the front of it. Her name was scrawled in bold black ink. There was no return address, which concerned her.
“I believe it might be from Julian,” Duncan said. “The postmark is from near where he is.”
“Julian? Really? I didn’t think he was allowed to contact anyone.”
Duncan nodded. “I think he’s limited on access to a computer or his phone, but writing and receiving letters is permitted.”
“Oh.” Kiara pressed it to her chest, not certain if she was excited or anxious about what it might contain. “I guess I’ll go read it.”
“Uh… listen.” Duncan shifted in a way that made him seem so unlike himself. “I don’t need to know the contents of the letter, but will you let me know if you have any concerns?”
Kiara had understood why Duncan wanted Julian to get help.
It was clear to anyone who spent any sort of time with him that he had an alcohol problem.
Julian might have felt like Duncan was manipulating him, which was probably true, but Kiara was certain that it was motivated by love for his son.
Hopefully, Julian could come to understand that.
“I’ll let you know,” she said with a gentle smile.
“Thank you.”
As she climbed the stairs, she heard Duncan’s steps heading down the hallway to where his office was located. Clutching the envelope in her hand, she hurried to her room.
Once inside, she went to the loveseat by the window and sank down on its soft cushions. Smoothing the envelope on her lap, she stared at her name.
Kiara Burke…
Duncan had helped her submit the paperwork for a name change after confirming it was what she wanted, so it was official now.
It wasn’t that she wanted the Burke name necessarily, but she wanted to have the same last name as her child.
And since she was entitled to it by marriage, she’d taken Duncan up on his offer.
Kiara had no idea why Julian would choose to write to her instead of Duncan or someone else in the family, so she opened the envelope with some trepidation.
Taking a deep breath, she turned the envelope over and slid her finger under the flap, carefully unsealing it. Once it was open, she pulled out the contents, hoping she’d get a glimpse of how Julian’s time in treatment had gone so far.
She unfolded the letter to find two pieces of premium thick paper filled with the same black scrawl that was on the envelope.
Dear Kiara,
I hope this letter finds you well. I wanted to reach out and let you know how things are going here. The therapist suggested that I "open lines of communication" with people who are important in my life. Right now, I’d have to say that you are the most important.
Kiara wanted to hold those words close to her heart, but she let them slip by.
She knew that the only reason she was the most important person to Julian was because she was pregnant with his child.
And considering the relationships he had with other members of his family, being the most important didn’t exactly elevate her all that much.
The first week here was terrible. I didn't think it would be that bad—I've had hangovers before, obviously—but this was different.
The shaking started the day after I arrived.
My hands first, then my whole body. I couldn't sleep, couldn't eat.
The doctors kept checking on me, monitoring my vitals.
They said withdrawal can be dangerous, even fatal.