Words Left Unsaid (14 page)

Will I ever stop feeling guilty?

For so long I wished things could be back the way they were. I’ve spent most of my life looking behind me and never forward. For the first time in forever I can see a future without Aiden, and I’m scared.

Because once I take this step I can’t go back.

Chapter Seventeen

Max

“Jesus, Max, what is it about this woman that gets to you?” Kelly says, glaring at me. “Her first day on the job and she can’t make it? How is that in any way acceptable? Mr. Mattich—”

“Kelly, I appreciate your feedback, but unless you have the full story I’d rather you not comment. Kiara informed me the day she accepted the position that she was unable start until tomorrow, Thursday.”

Kelly’s mouth drops open, but she doesn’t say anything.

That wasn’t entirely true. The first I learned that she couldn’t come in was late last night when she texted me. Apparently Kaitlin needed to meet with her urgently.

“Still,” Kelly mutters, her face red. She flips her long, blond hair over her shoulder and pouts at me. “It
is
a little unprofessional.”

Maybe it is, but what Kiara is going through at the moment is more important than any job.

As soon as the door is closed behind her, I’m on the phone with Kiara, keen to see what the latest is. She answers right away, sounding stressed.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, concerned, knowing it isn’t.

“Hey, I'm fine. Just tired. I’ve been here all day and it feels like we're going over the same things. I know it's for the best and it’s what needs to be done, but it still…” Her voice trails off and she laughs. “I’ll be glad when it’s all over.”

“So what's the plan of attack?” I ask, knowing that if this goes on to court it could drag on for years.

“A mediation session next Tuesday, and from there if it can't be settled, it will probably end up in court.” She lets out a bitter laugh. “How can it be resolved if Heather won’t come to her fucking senses?”

“Give it a chance. You don't know. This might be just a way to get your attention. Maybe she’ll come around,” I say.

“Yeah, well, if she wants my attention, she's got it.” She lets out a sigh. “Anyway, how are you? Still at work?”

“Yeah, I’m just finishing up a few things here and now and then heading home. What about you? Plans for the evening?”

“Does collapsing into bed count?” she says. “But seriously, I want to spend some time with Tilly and maybe get some cleaning done if I can be bothered. If you want to come over, Tilly should be in bed by eight.”

“Great,” I say, a warm buzz moving through my body. These late nights are making it hard for me to get up in the morning, but hell—if she asked me to come over at three in the morning, I probably would.

When I get home, the first thing I do is walk Lance, who is standing at the door holding his leash in his mouth.
I can take a hint.
We go for a jog around the block and then walk down to the park, where he catches the balls I throw for him and brings them back with ease.

After about half an hour, we had back home. I'm exhausted and on the verge of collapsing, but I know Lance has barely even started. I sit down on the couch and he bounds into my lap, almost in my face, demanding attention. He rolls onto his back as I scratch his stomach as Mr. Scruffy sits on the arm of the chair opposite, glaring at me.

“Nice to see you too,” I say.

He sticks his nose in the air and turns around to face the window.
Ungrateful cat.

Getting to my feet, I notice my phone is flashing with a message. It’s from Mom, asking me to call her. I wince, realizing how long it’s been since I’ve called her. I try and remember every week, but life just gets in the way. God, it has to be about a month since we last spoke.

As I dial her number, I sit back down on the sofa. She answers right away.

“I was wondering if I’d hear back from you,” she scolds. “I’ve been trying to get onto you for weeks. How are you?”

“I’m fine, Mom. Sorry, things have been hectic,” I mumble, running a hand through my hair. “How are you guys?”

“We’re good. You’re Dad works too hard and I just busy myself with shopping,” Mom laughs. “I spoke to Will. He told me you called him?” I roll my eyes at how pleased she sounds.

“Yeah, I’m going to try and get up there to visit him over summer.”

“Good,” she says. She hesitates before adding, “What bought that on? You two have never been that close. Not since…” Her voice trails off but I know what she was going to say.
Since Tommy died.

“Yeah, well I’m trying to fix that,” I mumble. “I gotta go, Mom. But I’ll call you soon, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too,” she replies.

I hang up feeling guilty. Will’s not the only person I need to make more of an effort with. I need to put the past in the past and fix things with Mom and Dad too. God, it’s been years since I had a real conversation with my father. I wouldn’t even know where to start.

Sighing, I scroll through my contacts and find Will’s number. He answers the phone with a low, gravelly laugh.

“Wow, twice in a week. What’s going on, Max?”

“I'm trying something new where I try harder to keep in touch,” I say with a smirk. “I just want to thank you for what you did for Kiara.”

“Anytime, man. You know that. I did speak to Kait, and she said this case is really strong. How’s Kiara doing?”

“She's good. Stressed, but she’s holding it together.”

“That’s good. Anything I can do to help, you know I’m here. I know we don't talk much—and that’s as much my fault as yours—but you’re my brother and I'll do anything for you.”

“Thanks, man, I appreciate it.”

I hang up and then go in search of something for dinner. I'm too lazy to cook, and the only thing in the freezer is a serving of pot roast leftover from dinner with Ellie and Grant from a few weeks before. I assume it’s still okay, and after peeling off the foil, I throw it in the microwave.

It's just after eight when I arrive at Kiara’s. I walk up to the door carrying a bottle of wine in one hand and a cheesecake in the other. I catch sight of myself in the window next to her front door and wish I’d taken the time to shave. Reaching forward, I knock gently on the door while trying not to break the wine.

Kiara opens the door a few seconds later and my heart begins to pound. She looks amazing, in dark leggings and a shirt that clings to her in all the right places—though she could wear anything and look amazing. Her long hair is disheveled and hangs gently down her back. She quickly swoops it out the way and gives me a shy smile.

“Hey,” she says. “Come in.”

I hand her the bottle of wine and the cheesecake, smiling awkwardly. Suddenly I feel like an idiot. Like a teenage boy on his first date with his crush.

We stay up half the night drinking and talking, and even though she points out several times how early we have to get up, I’m in no rush to leave. It doesn’t even occur to me that she might want me to go. She looks like she’s enjoying my company, anyway.

The clock nears two a.m. when Tilly’s screams fill the air. I jump. What the hell? My first thought is there’s an intruder and I’m ready to go bounding down the hallway and go all ninja on some pervert, but Kiara is calm as she gets to her feet. She gives me a sad smile, as if she knows this situation all too well.

“Nightmares,” she explains. “Give me a moment.”

I watch her disappear down the hallway. Sitting forward, I pour myself another drink, aware that I’m at the point where I’ll be needing to call a cab to get home. I second guess my decision and instead walk into the kitchen in search of something non-alcoholic. Turning up to work, drunk would probably be a career killer.

I find everything I need to make some coffee. I’m still quietly clankering around the kitchen when she walks back in about fifteen minutes later.

“Is she okay?” I ask, my voice full of concern.

“She will be. She’s back asleep now.” She smiles, even though her eyes show sadness. “It breaks my heart seeing her so distressed.”

“Is that normal for her? I mean, does she have them often?” I ask, cursing my choice of words.

“Less than she used to but more often than I’d like. She doesn’t really remember them when she wakes up which is one good thing, but…” she shrugs helplessly. “They started when she was four. That’s why the doctor suggested I stop taking her to see Aiden. After every visit they were more often and more intense.”

“Wow, I don’t blame you. You’re her mom. You have to do what’s best for her.” I push her coffee across the countertop to her. She takes it, a grateful smile on her face and leads me back into the living room.

“How am I supposed to keep this whole Heather thing from her? Do I be honest and just explain it to her best I can?” She sighs, and sinks down onto the sofa. I sit next to her.

She gives me a smile, her fingers stroking the back of my neck. Gently, she pulls me toward her, her soft lips touching mine.

“No labels, remember?” she whispers, her deep blue eyes penetrating mine. “We are what we are.”

Chapter Eighteen

Kiara

It’s six a.m. Thursday morning, and I’m clutching the edge of the toilet bowl, where I’ve been for the last two hours. I have no idea why I’m so nervous. How much trouble can a classroom of third, forth and fifth-graders be?

Gingerly, I pull myself to my feet. I have to pull myself together or my first day is going to be a disaster. Wrapping my robe around me, I walk out into the kitchen and put the kettle on. As much as I’d love a coffee, I think I’m better off sticking to tea, at least until I get to work.

Somewhere between me drinking my tea and cooking Tilly’s breakfast, she wanders out in her dressing gown, looking as awake as I feel. I hide a smile. If she’s like this now, God knows what’s in store for me when she’s a teenager.

“Toast with banana and honey?” I ask her, setting her plate in front of her. I know she won’t say no. She smiles and digs in, polishing off both slices quickly.

“Are you scared, Mommy?” Her words surprise me. Sometimes I forget that even though she’s only five, she picks up on so many of the things around her.

“Me? No.” I pause for a moment. “Well, maybe a little,” I say, holding my finger to my thumb to indicate a small amount. “I’ll be okay once I get there.”

“If anyone picks on you, just tell a teacher,” she says seriously. I can’t help it; I laugh. She’s just too damn adorable for her own good.

“Thanks for the advice,” I say dryly. “Because that’s what teachers are there for, right?”

“Right.” She nods enthusiastically. “Can I pick out my own clothes today?”

“Sure.” I grin, part of me only agreeing because I’m dying to see what she chooses.

Excited, she gets off her chair and runs to her bedroom. I tidy up the kitchen and then set about getting myself ready.

The distraction of Tilly has settled my nerves, and I no longer feel like throwing up. I take off my pajamas and slip into the black pencil skirt I had picked out the night before. I pair it with a soft gray-blue silk shirt and a black jacket. I stare at myself in the mirror for a long time, wondering if I’m ready for this. It’s not just a new job, it’s a new beginning—another step away from the life I had with Aiden. I stand there, motionless, until the knock on my door breaks me out of my daydream.

Tilly walks in wearing a pair of hot-pink leggings and a blue flower slip dress. I’m impressed. She actually looks pretty good.

“You did well,” I say, ruffling her hair. “Come down to the kitchen and I’ll do your hair.”

“You look pretty too, Mommy,” she says, skipping beside me. “I’ve told all my friends you’re going to be at our school,” she brags.

I laugh, knowing I need to enjoy that I’m not an embarrassment to her while I can. Before long she’ll be doing anything she can to disassociate herself from me in front of her friends.

We arrive at school forty-five minutes early, which Tilly complains about because nobody else is there yet. Her mood picks up when I suggest that I sneak her into the staffroom with me for fifteen minutes.

“Wow,” she breathes, her eyes wide, as we walk in. I chuckle. It’s like I’ve let her into some kind of secret wonderland or something. Tilly sits down with a coloring book while I try and figure out how to use the coffee machine. I was hoping Max would be here already so I’d know someone, but I didn’t see his car in the parking lot.

Just as I’ve mastered my drink, the door opens and Max walks in. My heart races as I look him over, his pale gray shirt clinging to his muscular frame. His dark sexy hair is styled perfectly and I resist the urge to walk over and run my fingers through it.

“You figured it out,” he says, nodding at my coffee.

“It only took me about half an hour,” I joke. I glance back at Tilly, knowing she’s probably not supposed to be in here. “I didn’t want to be late, but then there was nowhere for Tilly to go…”

“It’s fine,” he says, waving his hand. “How are you feeling? Nervous?”

“A little,” I say. Total lie. I’m a
lot
nervous.

“You’ll be fine. You’re group today is a good one. Well behaved.” He cocks his head and smiles. “Well, as behaved as seven year olds can be.” The door swings open, and more teachers begin to wander in. Max gives me an apologetic smile. “I better go. If you need anything, let me know, okay?”

I grab Tilly and guide her out of the room, narrowly missing a collision with Kelly, who eyes me suspiciously. It’s nearing the beginning of first period and my nerves have tripled. I walk Tilly to her classroom and give her a kiss on the forehead.

“Have a good day, baby,” I say as she races off to join her friends. I stand up, suddenly feeling very alone. My heart thumps in my chest as I realize I still need to find my room and set up.

My room is just down the hall from Tilly’s. A few kids are waiting outside, but seem disinterested in who I am. I let myself in and try to familiarize myself with where everything is. Pacing the room, I focus on my breathing, telling myself they’re just kids.

How hard can it be?

By the end of the day, I’m beginning to think I was born to teach. I had three different classes of children and they all behaved perfectly. A few times I saw Max walking past my room. I’m not sure if he was checking up on me, but knowing he was around I actually found calming.

After the last group of kids exit my classroom, I finish tidying up and then go in search of Tilly. I find her surrounded by a group of friends who are hanging off her every word. I chuckle to myself. If there’s one thing Tilly loves, it’s attention and making up stories. She has this whole group convinced that a tiger broke out of the zoo this morning and is waiting outside to eat little children as they walk home from school.

“Tilly,” I scold, ruffling the back of her hair. “Stop scaring people or
you’ll
be walking home.” Tilly jumps at the sound of my voice. “It’s just a story, Mommy. I wrote it for class today.” I look at the terrified expressions on the other kids faces and wonder when I’m going to get my next call from her teacher.

“Come on,” I say, taking her hand. “Let’s go visit Ellie and Cassie.”

***

“Do you mind watching her for a little while?” I ask, leaning across the kitchen counter. Ellie looks up from the potatoes she’s peeling.

“Of course. Everything okay?”

“I’m going to see Aiden,” I confide in her. “I’ve put it off too long worrying about running into Heather, but now I don’t care. I hope I
do
run into her.”

Ellie offers me a sympathetic smile. I call out to Tilly that I’ll be back soon, but she’s so engrossed in her cartoons that I’m not even sure she hears me.

The whole drive to the hospital I’m running over in my mind what I’ll say to Heather if she’s there. God, there is so much I want to get off my chest, and none of it is nice.

And then there’s Aiden. I feel so bad about not coming in to see him during these past two weeks because of my fear of running into Heather. I pull into the parking lot of the hospital and find a spot right away. I get out of the car and walk toward the entrance, every step increasing the anxiety that’s racing through my veins.

I pause out front of his room, allowing myself a moment to gather my thoughts.
Bright and cheerful, just like always
. I can’t remember the last time I was myself around him. No, actually I can. It was exactly three years and forty-eight days ago.

Taking a deep breath, I push open the door. To my relief, he’s alone. I close the door behind me, hoping that I’ve picked just the right moment for me to have fifteen minutes alone with him. I walk over and sit on the chair beside his bed, reaching up to cover his hand with mine.

“Hey baby,” I say, my voice soft.

I listen to the sound of his breathing machines, a sense of sadness hitting me from out of nowhere. How much damage is moving him out of the hospital going to do? I hate him being in pain, but the thought of losing him completely is terrifying.

“Tilly is going well. She’s growing up so fast. Every day I see a little bit of you in her. She has your wit, and your ability to reply to anything with a smart comment.” I grin. I gently stroke his hand—what was once so strong and firm now dry and frail. It’s just another reminder of how much things have changed.

I don’t keep talking. Instead I sit there, reminiscing about our life before all of this. I close my eyes and imagine what he would say if he could speak to me now. After all this time, what
would
he say? That he loves me, and that he’s glad I waited for him? The familiar pang of guilt tugs at my heart as I wipe away a tear.

The door opens, and I look up and see his doctor, Dr. Arlo.

“Hi Kiara,” he says, giving me a smile. “How’s our man doing?”

“He’s okay,” I say, forcing myself to smile. “You’re the doctor,” I add and he laughs.

“Right. No changes in him, which is good.”

Is it?

He hesitates, his brow furrowing. “Are you aware that Heather has begun the process for discharge? I’ve tried speaking to her about how harmful this could be for him, but she’s convinced she’s doing the right thing.” He shakes his head. “I probably shouldn’t even be telling you this, but Aiden is almost like family to me.”

“I know,” I say quietly. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for him. I wish there was some way I could stop this, but I can’t. I don’t know what to do, to be honest.”

“Just prepare yourself,” he suggests. What does he mean by that? Prepare myself for the worst? I shiver, the coldness in the room suddenly hitting me. It’s like they have the aircon on high.

Before I can ask him anything else, Heather walks in. Her eyebrows rise when she sees me. She walks around to the other side of the bed, nodding at Dr. Arlo as he leaves.

“Hello Kiara. How is he today?”

“The same as always,” I say, my voice hard. “I heard you’re getting ready to take him home.”

“You knew that,” she reminds me. “I’m looking forward to having my son home again,” she adds, stroking his hand lovingly.

“Even if it kills him?” I ask in a harsh tone.

“You think that’s what I’m trying to do? You’re the one who’s life would be easier if he were gone, Kiara. Not me.”

My mouth drops open. I can’t believe she just said that to me.

“You’re going against doctors advice by taking him home and I’m the one hurting him?” I gasp. I stand up and give Aiden a kiss on the cheek. “I love you,” I mumble. Turning my attention back to Heather I narrow my eyes. “Think about what you want for your son, Heather, because if you keep doing what you’re doing, you are going to lose him.”

I leave the hospital a mess. As I head back over for Tilly, I rack my brain for a way to fix all of this. I want her to let Aiden’s suffering end, but not like this. I want her to do it the right way. What makes me angry is she doesn’t see how much she’s going to regret this. As different as we are, the last thing I want is for Heather to spend the rest of her life blaming herself for Aiden dying. That’s exactly what’s going to happen if she goes through with this.

All you can do is voice your opinion and hope she sees sense.

The problem is, my gut tells me she’s not going to until it’s too late.