Page 59 of Thiago
“Do you now?” She tossed the question over her shoulder as she continued toward the kitchen.
“What are your plans?” Thiago asked.
India drained the water from the glass and then dropped it with a heavy hand onto the island. She swung to face him. “I’m not pregnant.”
“I do not believe in abortion. I am Catholic.”
“When was the last time you stepped foot inside a church?” she demanded.
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me since you obviously think you have a say in my decision aboutmybody.”
He stepped closer and jabbed a finger at her belly. “That ismychild you’re carrying.”
India sighed. “Before either of us says something we’ll regret, let me tell you again, for the third time. I. Am.Not. Pregnant.”
Not. Pregnant.
This time, the words landed like a roundhouse kick to the jaw, knocking the wind out of him. The earlier rush of anticipation bled from him like an open wound, leaving him feeling drained and empty. He had leaped so far ahead, already making plans for the son or daughter who would carry his name and both their DNA. The dream dissolved as quickly as it had arrived, leaving a hollow ache in its wake.
“Not pregnant.” Repeating the words didn’t take the sting out of them as he’d hoped.
His jaw tightened as he forced his face into neutral lines. This was better anyway. The timing was off. He had big plans, and a child would derail them and preoccupy too much of his time.
“If you’re not p—” He couldn’t bring himself to say the word again. “If you’re not, what happened back there?” Thiago demanded in a gruff voice.
“I was sick,” India answered.
“We ate the same meal, so it was not the food.”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
Thiago folded his arms across his chest. “What do you think?”
She sighed, as if the world had been placed on her shoulders. “Fine, I don’t feel like arguing, and I know you won’t stop until you get an answer. I have lupus, and I started a new medicationa few weeks ago, where I have to inject myself once a week. One of the side effects of this new medication is nausea, though I had no idea it would be this bad.” She rubbed her belly as if trying to eliminate the remnants of her nausea. “I thought I would only feel queasy, but apparently not.”
Slowly, Thiago unfolded his arms and examined her. She looked more exhausted than before. “You never told me you had lupus.”
Why had she never shared such an important piece of information about herself? Had he not pushed, it was obvious she wouldn’t have told him now, either.
“The topic never came up in conversation.” India shrugged in a nonchalant manner. “So anyway, what were we talking about before?”
“You cannot tell me you have lupus and then change the subject, India. I don’t know much about this disease, but I know it can be very debilitating.”
“My lupus has been under control for years.”
“If it is under control, why are you taking new medicine?” Thiago asked.
“I was trying a new drug my rheumatologist suggested, and we hoped it would work in conjunction with my other meds so my lupus would eventually go into remission. Then I’d be off prescription drugs. But this is the second time I’ve been sick and thrown up, and the only change is I started injecting myself with the new medication. It doesn’t agree with me, I guess.” She looked defeated.
Thiago was angry at her for not telling him sooner and angry at the medication for not working the way she needed it to.
He swore softly, running his fingers through his hair, and India eyed him warily.
“I cannot believe you never told me this,” he said in a low voice.
India wrapped her arms around herself. “We don’t—didn’t have that kind of relationship.” She spoke in an equally low tone and looked away first.
