Page 65 of The Breath Before Forever

Maybe she just had to see it.

But that was only one problem.

Bigger ones awaited.

“Or it could be because my best friend is still in a coma, and her mother’s been actively working to abort her fetus but there’s not a thing I can do,” Vera added, gesturing broadly in front of herself.

Well, she couldn’t do much but the circumstances and a few phone calls by Vaslav might have helped to move some things along. The only thing her husband would entertain with conversation when pressed by Vera beyond the weather in his part of the world, but she gave Vaslav credit. He had made every effort he could to help.

It did.

Hannah’s circumstance worked to her favor, too. Significant brain activity and a letter from Hannah’s physician who had privately confirmed the pregnancy with her initially had put a momentary halt in her mother’s plans. Hannah had wanted her child, and her body was capable of carrying the baby to term. Or damn close to it.

Marlena Malone wouldn’t get her way.

Vera was working just as hard as the bitch to make sure of it.

“Life’s a little messy,” Roman muttered.

Vera scoffed. “Nice way to put it.”

“Yeah, well ...”

He didn’t even bother to finish his sentence, what good would it do? As it was, Vera had already figured out her brother’s reason for seeking their parents home out on the outskirts of the city while the sky burned brightly with the colors of the sunset.

“What, are you worried about me, too?”

Roman snorted, and folded his tattooed arms over his broad, muscular chest. His gaze remained fixated on the edge of the blue tile along the edge of the pool instead of her as he replied, “Get real—I’m not patting your head and telling you everything’s gonna be okay. That’s Ma’s job, Vera.”

“Doesn’t matter, anyway. Wouldn’t help if you did.”

He met her gaze then.

Vera offered him a sad smile, muttering, “Nothing’s okay, so.”

Roman exhaled the breath he’d been holding, replying dully, “Yeah. I hate when shit feels like that. Makes everything else worse.”

A human condition. Or that’s how her husband would have explained it away.

The quiet stillness between Vera and her brother at least felt comforting to her, but she wouldn’t bother to tell Roman as much. He wasn’t the type for deep feelings and introspective conversations that dug beyond surface level things. A lot like their father, in that way, he found it easier to deal with the tougher shit when he wasn’t breaking to pieces over it.

She still loved her brother, though.

Adored him for sitting quietly with her while the sun sat around them, and the early May evening air crept in with a chilliness that made her grateful she had pulled on a thick hoodie.

“She doesn’t know, either,” Vera said under her breath. “So all Ma’s got to go on about me is what she sees and does know. Which isn’t much.”

The top of the edge at her brother’s back became the focal point for her attention as she kept her tone level and her thoughts blank. It was easier that way because then she didn’t fall into a puddle of her own tears.

“Know what?” Roman asked.

Right.

She hadn’t explained that bit.

“The day the bomb went off in front of my villa, I found out I was pregnant that morning,” Vera said, shrugging one shoulder like it wouldn’t make that news a big deal. She didn’t want it to be something that her brother made a spectacle out of, even if it was just to apologize to her when she delivered the next part of the story. “And then I woke up three days later in the hospital with no baby inside me.”

Vera laughed a bleak sound, but nothing about this was very funny. It just made everything easier to swallow. “I passed everything before I could even take a second to love what was there before it wasn’t. It’s kind of weird. I’m not sure how you grieve something you didn’t have. So all I want is to go back to the place I was before this happened. Happy with my new husband. Do you know what I mean?”