Words Left Unsaid (5 page)

“Still alive?” I supply. “Yes, but he’s unresponsive and won’t recover.”

“God, Kiara. And here I am telling you things will get better.” He curses to himself, running his hand through his hair. “I have no idea what you’ve been through, but I know what it’s like to lose someone you love. My brother was killed in a car accident when I was seventeen. He’d just turned sixteen, just gotten his license when he went out to a party and never came home.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. I reach out and touch his hand.

He glances down, as if processing my gesture, and then smiles.

“How long ago did it happen?”

“Ten years. And it has gotten easier. I can talk about him now and smile, remembering the good moments. We were really close, being so close in age. Like best friends, really.”

Like Ellie and me.
My stomach twists at the thought of losing Ellie. She’s my rock.

A horn beeps outside.

Max sets his empty cup down and looks at me, his eyes apologetic. “That’s me,” he says.

We walk to the door and I open it, an unfamiliar emotion stirring in my chest. Am I sad or relieved the night is ending? I can’t be sure.

“Thanks for a great night,” I say. And I mean it.

He gives me a wink and sticks his hand out. Laughing, I take it, his soft fingers closing around mine.

“See you around, Kiara.”

I wait until he steps into the cab and it disappears from my view before I close the door. As I walk into the living room and slump down on the sofa, I feel empty. The night has been a whirlwind of highs and lows, and I’m struggling to cope with my feelings. Lying down, I stare at the ceiling and close my eyes.

I’ve never felt so confused as I do right now. My arm creeps over to Aiden’s side of the bed as a tear rolls down my cheek. I can’t act like he’s gone because he’s not. He’s still here, his voice still haunts my dreams.

I’m never going to be able to move on.

Chapter Five

Max

Well, that went well.

I rub my forehead as the cab driver pulls into the parking lot of the restaurant. I thank and pay him, then get out. Walking over to my car, I run over the night in my head. It was a complete disaster, but for some reason I actually want to see her again. I thought the night actually went pretty well—despite the fact that she had no idea about the date in the first place. Her mini-breakdown aside, she actually seemed happy when I left her house.

Or maybe she was just happy that I was actually leaving her alone.

It’s not long before I’m back home, albeit much earlier than I was anticipating. Then again, it was one of Grant’s setups, so how smoothly could the night have really gone?

I park my car in the garage and take the internal entry into the house. Lance comes bounding up to me, almost knocking me over. Chuckling, I crouch down and ruffle his fur, to which he responds by licking my face.

“At least I’m getting some action from you,” I joke, standing up.

I walk over to the back door and open it, watching him race outside. My next stop is the fridge where I grab a beer. Popping open the cap, I take a gulp and slouch onto the sofa, Lance joining me. I laugh as he rolls on his back, not shy in letting me know what he wants. I tickle his stomach and pull out my phone. As I scroll through my contacts, looking for Grant, I’m not sure if I’m pissed or glad for the date he set me up on.

“Dude,” he answers.

I laugh, already knowing from his tone that Kiara has blasted her sister.

“I’m so sorry. I swear I had no idea that she didn’t know. I can promise you Ellie will be paying for that.”

“Chill, it’s okay. She was a nice girl. A little unstable, but I actually had fun once we got past the fact that she had no idea who the fuck I was.” I pause to take another sip of my beer. “So, what’s her story? Her boyfriend was in an accident and is in a coma—I got that much out of her.”

“Three years ago. He’s got no hope of recovering, and Kiara knows that. She’s guilted into sticking with him by his parents, and Ellie is insistent she needs to move on.”

“Fuck,” I mutter. I can’t even imagine how bad that would suck. You can’t make someone move on from that kind of tragedy. They’re either ready or they’re not.

“Yeah. Ellie was apparently trying to give her a little push, but I guess she’s not ready.”

“Her fiancé is in a coma. I don’t blame her for not being ready. Jules left me five years ago, and sometimes I wonder if
I’m
ready to move on.”

“Yeah, I know, man. I don’t know what the answer is with this one.”

“When Tommy died it took me forever to get past losing him,” I mutter, shaking my head. “Just not being able to talk to him was the hardest. For the first few months I convinced myself he was backpacking around the world. I went as far as setting up an email account and sending myself emails from him from different places.” I sigh, realizing the pain of losing my brother has never really gone. It just gets easier to handle.

“Whatever you need to do to cope, I say,” Grant replies.

“Yep. I’m gonna go, man. I’ll call you later in the week, okay?”

“Sure. And sorry again.”

I laugh. “Don’t mention it. She’s a nice girl.”

Hanging up, I get ready for bed and think about the night. Had it been under different circumstances and had she actually known about the date, t it would’ve been up there as a great night. I sigh, disappointed that the one girl I feel Grant actually got it right with isn’t going to happen.

Hell, the fact that she has a kid doesn’t even bother me. I like kids. I’d probably have a few of my own by now had things worked out with Jules. And from what Grant told me, her daughter is a little charmer.

That’s where I know her from
. When I saw her photo on Kiara’s bookshelf, she looked so familiar, but I couldn’t place where I’d seen her. She’s a student at my school.

Maybe I’ll be seeing Kiara much sooner than I thought.

Chapter Six

Kiara

“How was school?” I ask Tilly as she slides into the car. It’s Wednesday afternoon, and after looking for work all day, I’m exhausted and moody, but I still try my best to sound cheery for Tilly.

She shrugs, refusing to look at me.

“What happened?” I ask suspiciously. The face she’s giving me is one she only uses when she knows she’s in trouble.

“They kept teasing me, so I punched Jimmy in the tummy.”

“Tilly,” I groan.

She reaches into her backpack and pulls out a note. She hands it to me and I see it’s a note from her teacher, Miss Walker, wanting to meet with me to discuss Tilly’s behavior.

“You know not to hit anyone, Till,” I scold.

She looks up at me with her big green eyes, the same deep emerald as her father’s. “But I heard Aunt Ellie say you stopped the bullies by hitting them.”

Shit
. I can’t think of a response that doesn’t make me a hypocrite. I hide a smile. She’s definitely my daughter. I change the subject, and we talk about seeing her grandparents. She immediately brightens up, bouncing excitedly in her seat.

We pull up outside their house, and I have to scold Tilly again for opening the door before I’ve actually stopped the car. Getting out, I go around to her side and open the door. She takes my hand and practically yanks me up the path.

“Gran,” she yells, racing up to the door where Heather is crouched, her arms outstretched. “I missed you! I did you a painting.” She pulls out a piece of paper full of bright colors and paint strokes, holding it up proudly.

“It’s beautiful, Till. Why don’t we go and stick it on the fridge?” Heather looks up at me and nods. I hide a smile, knowing that’s probably the only acknowledgement I’ll get all night.

I sit at the kitchen table, a tea in front of me, watching Heather and Tilly together. There’s no doubting how much she loves her Gran, and Heather obviously loves her just as much.

That’s why you do this. That’s why we come here every week. For Tilly.

Reminding myself of that makes it easier for me to deal with the constant little digs and the focusing on all I do wrong.

One thing I can’t fault is the cooking. It makes me wish I could afford a cook too. Tonight we’re having roast pork with all the trimmings, and as the food is laid out on the table, I’m salivating. My stomach rumbles loudly, earning me a pointed look from Heather. Tilly, who’s sitting next to me, giggles and rubs my stomach.

“You tummy is speaking,” she laughs. I lean over and kiss her on the forehead as I try and hide my embarrassment.

“Sounds like you’re not eating enough, dear,” Heather observes, handing me the platter of meat. I take a small piece and force a smile, ignoring her raised eyebrows.

“Trust me, I eat fine,” I reply. “How’s the garden going, Jim?” I ask, eager to get the spotlight off myself. Jim may be quiet, but if there’s one thing he can talk about for hours, it’s his garden. My plan works, and for the rest of dinner, Jim dominates the conversation.

By the end of the night, I leave with my arms full with fruits and vegetables freshly grown by Jim.

“Make sure you actually eat them,” Heather says, kissing Tilly goodbye. “Don’t just leave them to go rotten.”

I bite my tongue and plaster a smile on my face, even though I so badly want to respond. Jim stands next to his wife, as usual, not saying a word. I wonder if they’re like that when they’re alone? It’s like he can’t speak or do anything without her permission, and god forbid he ever disagree with her.

“Thanks for dinner, guys. We’ll see you next week,” I say instead, sliding into the drivers seat. I check Tilly is all belted in before I start the car. She waves like crazy as we drive off.

By the time we get home, Tilly is fast asleep. I carefully bundle her into my arms and carry her to bed. She’s such a heavy sleeper, like her father was. The only thing that can wake her is her nightmares.

When I finally pull her bedroom door over, I’m exhausted. I text Ellie, telling her about Tilly’s brush with the law, and then run myself a bath. Before I can get in to unwind, my phone starts to ring. I see that it’s Ellie and I press answer.

“How can you be angry at her for doing exactly what you did as a five-year-old?” Ellie laughs.

“Hey, who said I’m angry at her? It’s
you
she overheard,” I shoot back, sitting on the edge of the bath.

“You can’t blame me for this,” she protests. “Besides, sounds like Jimmy deserved a punch to the guts.”

“Yeah, but somehow I don’t think encouraging my child to settle problems with violence is going to win me the Mother of the Year award,” I say, my voice dry.

“Anyway, back onto you. Any news on the work front?”

“No.” I sigh. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone willing to take me on part-time.” I’d spent most of the morning scouring the job section of the paper, and I’d signed up for several temp agencies.

“Well, keep trying. Something will come up.”

“Yeah, I know it will.”

“So,” she says, changing the subject, “have you heard from Max?”

“Ellie,” I groan. “You need to let it go. Be thankful I’m still speaking to you after that stunt.”

“Okay, okay,” she mutters. “I’m only trying to help you.”

“No, you’re trying to push me, and all you’re doing is pushing me farther away,” I retort. “Let me figure this out, El. I appreciate you want to help me, but I need to do this alone, okay?”

She sighs. “Okay. But I’m here if you need me.”

Chapter Seven

Max

My alarm goes off at six a.m. Reaching over, I slap it with my hand. It continues to beep, so I rip the clock radio from the wall and hurl it across the room. I’m not a morning person. The only thing that gets me out of bed is that I don’t want to risk turning up to work late, which is a real possibility if I don’t get my ass into gear.

I almost sleepwalk through showering and preparing my breakfast. I unlock Lance’s doggy door, allowing him outside, and then finish the rest of my coffee before I take him for a quick run around the block. The caffeine helps wake me up, but I know I won’t be fully alert until well after nine.

Fuck this.
I should’ve become a baker or something. At least then I could sleep all day. That’s what I get for thinking teaching would be awesome because of all the holidays. Every morning it’s the same fight, but once I do finally get in there, I love my job.

It’s my fourth week as principal of Southern Elementary School, and I finally feel as if I’m beginning to settle in. Other staff and students are beginning to relax around me. Some of my co-workers are even inviting me out. Not all the staff has been welcoming toward me, though.

“It’s not funny, Max¸” Kelly gently scolds me. “We shouldn’t be tolerating violence at all, no matter what her circumstances are. I know you’re new to this school, but Mr. Mattich wouldn’t have—”

“Last time I checked, Miss Walker, Mr. Mattich had retired and I had been hired to replace him,” I say pointedly. “Are you questioning my ability to handle this role?”

She blushes. “No, of course I’m not.”

Bullshit.

I may have only been here for a few weeks, but I recognize jealously when I see it. I’d been warned that Kelly had been up against me for the role. She obviously hadn’t handled being rejected too well.

“When Kiara and Tilly get here, please send them to my office. I’ll deal with this issue.”

“But—”

“That’s all for now, Miss Walker. Please close the door on your way out.”

She stares at me openmouthed for a minute, and then turns on her heel, stalking out of my office. I wince as she slams the door shut.

Is it such a bad thing that I don’t see this as a huge issue? Sure, Tilly shouldn’t have hit Jimmy, but she’s hardly a problem kid. I’ve seen worse behavior at some of the other schools I’ve been at, and dealt with it without getting the parents involved.

I wonder how much of this is Kelly wanting to flex her muscles and show everyone that she could do a better job of running this school than I can. I can already sense that this isn’t going to be the end of her trying to show me up.

After a pretty uneventful morning, I’m left to deal with two students caught cheating on tests, a girl who skipped the last three days of last week, and a sixth-grader who smuggled his cat into class. I dish out detentions for the first three and a warning to the cat kid, leaving me to babysit his cat, Mr. Scruffy, until the end of the day when his mother can pick it up. It’s just before lunch and I’m drinking my coffee as this black-and-white ball of fluff glares at me from the windowsill. I’m half tempted to open the window and let the damn thing escape.

Rana, my receptionist, lets me know my afternoon meeting is here. It’s with the mother of a child who has been sick and missed a few months of class. The kid is better now, but it’s a question of whether she can catch up on what she missed out on.

Conveniently, the teacher of the student is Kelly.

Opening my door, I usher the girl, her mom, and Kelly into my office. They sit down, the mother throwing me an odd look when she sees Mr. Scruffy.

“A student thought it would be fun to hide the cat in his schoolbag,” I explain, my voice dry.

“Ah.” She grins. “Anna has tried that once or twice,” she adds, ruffling her daughter’s hair.

“So, I’m glad to hear you’re all better, Anna. Are you looking forward to starting back at school?” I ask her.

She shrugs, pushing her dark bangs from her eyes.

“She’s missed nearly four weeks with a pretty serious kidney infection. But she’s been doing work Miss. Walker has been sending home for her, so I think she’ll be okay with keeping up.”

“Miss. Walker?” I say, raising my eyebrows.

Kelly nods. “She’s a bright kid. I don’t think there will be any issue with her keeping up. I’m happy to spend a little extra time tutoring her if she needs it, but I honestly don’t think she will.”

“Okay, then we’re sorted.” I say, wondering why the meeting was organized in the first place. Surely Kelly could’ve sorted this out herself? “She can come back whenever she’s ready.”

“Thanks, Mr. Wilson.” Mrs. Forster stands up and puts her hand out.

I take it and smile at her warmly. “Anytime.”