Words Left Unsaid (8 page)

Chapter Eleven

Max

I take in the memos sitting on my desk and groan. It’s Monday morning, and all I seem to be doing is dealing with issue after issue. The final straw comes when one of my fifth-grade English teachers calls to let me know she’s been in a car accident. She’s okay, but at the very least, she’ll be away from work for eight weeks.

“Alyssa says she put in her notice for an extension on her maternity leave eight weeks ago. Why the hell wasn’t this processed? And where the hell is the form?” I growl, picking up another memo. She’s supposed to be back from her leave in three weeks, which means I have three fucking weeks to find a replacement for the remainder of the year.

Great, now I’m down two teachers.

“She did. I remember receiving it and handing it to Mr. Mattich. I’m sure he meant to process the extension but he had a lot on his mind by the end,” Rana says helplessly. Her deep brown eyes fill with moisture and she looks like she’s on the verge of tears.

That doesn’t help me much now, does it?

The rest of my day didn’t go much better. I have so much to do that I don’t know where to start. I call Grant to cancel our drinking plans for the evening. As awesome as relaxing with a few drinks sounds, I need to get onto finding these replacements.

“Hey,” I say when he answers. “I’m going to have to cancel our plans. I’ve had the day from hell.”

“That’s fine, man. Anything I can do?” he asks.

“Unless you can pull a teacher from out of your ass, no,” I say, my voice dry.

“Dude,” Grant begins slowly. “You do realize Kiara is qualified to teach? And she’s also looking for work.”

“Are you kidding me?” I laugh. “How did I not know this?”

“Maybe you didn’t ask the right questions?” he jokes. “No, she got pregnant with Tilly, then the accident happened…” He shrugs. “She fell into a job and never got out.” Grant pauses for a second. “Give her a call. Ellie said she was looking into applying for some teaching roles.”

“Maybe I will,” I murmur. The more I think about it, the more I love the idea. It doesn’t change my workload because I’ve still got to advertise and interview others for the job, but being able to help Kiara out would be amazing. “I gotta go. Thanks for the information.

Later, at home, after I’ve written and uploaded the teaching positions, I call Kiara.

“Hey,” she answers. I swear I can hear a smile in her voice. Or maybe I’m just imagining things.

“Hey yourself,” I reply, laying out on the sofa. Lance jumps on top of me, demanding attention. I pat him roughly. Even the cat strolls over for a pat. “So, I was thinking we might be able to help each other out with something.”

“Really? What?” she says, an edge of suspicion in her voice.

“I’m down two teachers and I hear you’re looking for work,” I say, getting straight to the point. “I want you to apply. You’d have to sit an interview, but I really think you’d be suited to one of the roles.”

“Me?” she laughs. “I mean, I have been looking into teaching, but I’m sure you can get someone with much more experience…”

“Experience isn’t everything,” I remind her. “You’re great with kids, and you love art.”

“It’s teaching art?” she asks, her voice strained.

“Yes,” I reply, knowing I have her. “Let me send you through the links to the application. See what you think. No pressure, but this could be great for both of us, okay?”

“Okay,” she agrees. “No promises, but I’ll take a look.”

“Good. Now,” I say, my heart beating a little faster as I prepare to ask her something completely off topic. “What would you say to a movie Saturday night? Just as friends, of course.”

She hesitates. “Okay. Just as friends.”

“Good. I’ll see what’s on and text you. Any preference? At least I know you prefer horror over romance,” I tease.

She laughs. “Okay, how about I pick the movie? I’ll let you know what time. If you can handle that.”

“I manage six hundred kids everyday,” I joke. “I can handle anything.”

Chapter Twelve

Kiara

Ellie glares at me from across the table, her fingers snaked around her mug. It’s just after noon on Tuesday, and after dropping Tilly off at school and then running some errands, I’m getting my daily fix of my sister.

“Seriously, you need a job and he’s practically handing it to you on a platter. What’s your problem?” she asks, frustrated.

“I’m not sure I can handle working there,” I mutter, even though I know I don’t have much of a choice. My small amount of savings is almost gone. If I don’t find something soon, I’ll have to ask my parents for help—something I don’t want to do.

“Why not?” Ellie presses. “Is it Max?”

Of course it is
. I pause, trying to get the words right in my mind. I don’t know how to say what I’m feeling without sounding like a complete tool. In my sister’s typical fashion, she picks right up on it.

“You like him, don’t you?”

“No. Yes.” I cover my face with my hands. “He’s a nice guy who’s impossible not to like.”

“You know what I mean,” Ellie presses. “You really like him.”

“It doesn’t matter. The fact is I’m not ready for anything, so all the more reason for not putting myself in a situation where I have to see him every day.”

“Or all the more reason to do it,” Ellie argues. “If you’re not ready, then prove that to yourself. Besides, you’re hardly in the position to be turning down well-paying jobs that work around your needs with Tilly.”

“And that’s another thing. What if Tilly hates the idea of me teaching at her school?” I ask.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ellie scoffs. “That kid worships you. She’d be ecstatic if you were at her school, and you know it.”

“Now maybe,” I concede, “but she might not feel that way in a few years.”

“She’ll cope. Now go home and apply for that damn job before I do it for you,” she demands.

Sighing, I get up. I know she’s right, but I still need to think this through more.

I leave Ellie’s with the sudden desire to go and see Aiden. It’s probably guilt, like seeing him will reinforce how delicate this whole situation is. Should I feel guilty for having feelings for another man? My stomach tightens. I’m admitting to myself that I actually feel something for Max. That scares the hell out of me.

I love Aiden more than anything, but my life has changed so much in the last three years. For the first time in a long time I’ve found myself forgetting my problems. Max makes me laugh. He makes me forget how messed up my life is and reminds me how much more there is out there. But I know it’s not that easy. I can’t just turn off the way I feel, and I have Tilly to consider. Her life is confusing enough as it is.

I turn on the radio in a desperate attempt to escape my own mind. If I keep thinking about this, I’m going to go insane.

Pulling into the parking lot of the hospital, I park the car and get out. The usual feeling of dread hits me as I walk toward the door. I shiver, running my hands over my bare arms as I look up at the overcast sky. It looks like it’s going to downpour at any second, which is unusual for this time of year. I contemplate going back to the car for my jacket, but the walk just feels too long.

I arrive at Aiden’s room, the smile on my face burying my true emotions. My heart aches when I see him. He looks just the same as he did a few days ago except his hair is shorter. The new cut makes his cheeks look even hollower. My stomach churns and I look away. I walk over and sit in the chair, placing my hand over his. His cold touch makes me shiver as the constant beep of the machines keeping him alive taunt me.
Is it any wonder Tilly is so terrified to see him?

“Hey you,” I whisper. I swallow the lump in my throat. I’m on the verge of tears because I hate not being able to fix this.

If I’d thought coming here would ease my guilt, I was wrong. I feel a thousand times worse.

“You have no idea how much I wish I could hear your voice,” I mumble, wetting my dry lips.

For months after the accident I’d listen to his voice messages on my phone every day—sometimes ten times a day. It was the only thing that could help me feel close to him. I felt closer to him listening to a message than I did sitting next to him in this room. How fucked up is that?

“I just wish you could tell me what to do, because I don’t know what the right thing is anymore,” I whisper. “I’m tired of everything, Aiden. I just want to wake up and realize this is all a dream and you’re in bed next to me.”

I stare at him for a moment, as if I expect him to respond. Of course, he doesn’t. My hands shaking, I pick up a copy of the
TV Weekly
sitting on his bedside table.

“I know how much you enjoy your trashy TV, so I’ll get you up to date with all the showbiz news,” I say, my tone brightening up. We used to argue over how much crap I watched on TV. Aiden hated anything that wasn’t news or a documentary.

I run through the entire magazine, telling him everything from Kim’s latest scandal to who’s sleeping with whom. Just as I set the magazine back down, Heather walks in. She stiffens when she sees me but recovers quickly, her mouth lifting into a smile.

“Kiara. Lovely to see you,” she says, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “No Tilly again?”

“No, she’s in school. And she isn’t ready to come in,” I say, my voice quiet. I don’t want Aiden to have to hear this.

“Sometimes children aren’t mature enough to know what’s best for them,” she says, a hint of cruelty in her voice.

“True, but if she’s going to wake up screaming every night from nightmares, then I’m not going to force her to do something she doesn’t want to do,” I snap.

“I just don’t think it’s fair that she’s growing up not seeing her father.” Heather sighs. She sits in a chair across the room by the window and places her expensive leather bag on the floor beside her.

“Can we talk about this another time?” I ask her, keeping my voice level. I refuse to get into this argument
here
.

“Yes, you’re probably right,” she agrees begrudgingly. “I heard from Patty Walsh that you’re no longer working at the gallery?” she adds, in a subtle subject change.

I groan. Patty Walsh. I should have known my being fired would get back to Heather through Patty. A volunteer on the Activities Committee at the gallery, Patty is also a huge gossip and good friend of Heather’s. Her husband also happened to be the old director. Don I got along with so well, but Patty was a whole different story. God knows what she’s told Heather.

“Yes, I’m in the process of finding something else,” I reply, giving her a tight smile.

“I can imagine it would be hard finding a job that fits your needs with Tilly,” Heather says.

I sigh, knowing where this is going.

“Maybe you should think about us having her a few evenings a week?”

“Thanks, Heather. I really appreciate the offer, but I think I might have something lined up,” I say in my sweetest voice.

“Oh?” she replies, her mouth parting in surprise. “Like what?”

“Teaching.” I smile. “I’m going to start teaching.”

Tilly reads aloud from her book on the drive home from school. She seems much more settled than she did last week, so I can only assume her bullies have backed off.

“I went and saw Daddy today,” I say, glancing at her.

She stiffens, her eyes briefly skirting away from the book she’s reading.

I pause before adding: “You know, Till, if you ever want to come with me, all you have to do is tell me, okay? I never want you to think I don’t want you to see him.”

“I get scared when I see him with all the machines,” she says, her voice quiet. “I don’t like how he won’t talk to me or give me hugs. It makes me sad.” Her lip begins to quiver and I worry I’ve pushed her too far. Damn Heather for making me feel like I’m holding her back from her father. All I’m trying to do is what’s best for her.

“It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” I reach over and squeeze her hand and wonder if she’s ever going to be able to handle seeing him.

Sometimes I can’t handle it myself.

We get home and I decide to make her favorite for dinner, crunchy chicken with ranch dressing. We put on our matching aprons and she helps me prep the chicken. She loves doing anything with me, and cooking is no exception. I think I’ve got a little master chef on my hands.

After dinner we watch some TV, and then I give her a bath and get her ready for bed. As she climbs under the covers, I can see something is bothering her by the way her brow is furrowed.

I snuggle up against her, cradling her in my arms. “What is it, sweetie?” I ask, stroking her forehead.

“Do you think Daddy remembers me?” she asks in a small voice.

I kiss her nose and tilt her face so her eyes meet mine. “Daddy loves you and he always will, sweetie.” My voice is firm as I take in her innocence.

God, this must be so hard for her. I regret bringing him up, because I know the likelihood of her having nightmares tonight has just skyrocketed. It’s so much harder for her, because where I can think back on all the good memories I have with Aiden, she’s just a kid. She’s so young that most of her memories are of what he’s like now. I wish I knew what to say to make her feel better, but I don’t, and I hate myself for it.

Turning off the lamp, I stroke her forehead until she falls asleep. I wait another fifteen minutes before I creep out of the room to the sounds of her soft snores. I’m a bundle of emotion and I feel so tightly wound that I might explode. Walking over to the cabinet, I take out a bottle of wine and pour myself a glass.

I need to apply for this job before I talk myself out of it.

Setting my laptop, my wine, and myself up in front of the TV, I follow the link Max sent me to the application form. The first few pages are straightforward and what I expected, but as it goes on, I’m shocked at how in-depth the application form is. At this rate I won’t need an interview, because there’ll be nothing left to ask me.

It takes me nearly two hours to complete the damn thing, and by the time I click submit, I’m exhausted. I can barely keep my eyes open.
Hey, at least it made me tired enough to probably get to sleep.
I can now add teaching applications to my list of things that consume me so much I can sleep without thinking of Aiden.

Before I head to bed, I check in on Tilly. She’s asleep, but I can hear her whimpering softly as she breathes. I tiptoe in and cuddle up to her, gently rubbing her back as she settles back down, hoping I’ve caught this before it turns into something worse. If she went to sleep thinking about Aiden, then chances are high of a nightmare. I hate seeing my little girl suffer.

Pulling over my bedroom door, I peel off my clothes and climb into bed. Throwing the sheets over me, I reach for my phone and text Max.

Me: You can stop hassling me. I applied for the damn job.

Max: Good. I’m glad to hear you came to your senses and realized I was right. And that kind of attitude will get you everywhere. Did you choose a movie yet? If you’re still free Saturday, I mean.

Me: I have a five-year-old. I’m never free.

Max: Good point. Well, can you get Ellie to look after her? You need to get out more. With friends. Like, you know, friends do.

I laugh and text back a reply. I know Ellie won’t mind looking after Tilly—especially if it’s because I’m going out with Max again.

Me: Okay. I’ll let you know what time.

I look through the movie listings and decide on a chick flick that I know he’s going to hate. I text Max and tell him to meet me at the theater at seven Saturday night.

It’s been such a long day that I have no idea how to feel. My mind is still running, but I’m too tired to fight sleep any longer. Setting my phone on the table beside me, I turn off the light and snuggle into the covers, staring into the darkness that engulfs me. A lump forms in my throat as guilt consumes me. I’m lying in
our
bed, texting another man. In my efforts to get comfortable, my leg creeps over to the other side of the bed where it’s met with such coldness that my throat constricts.
His
side of the bed.
It will never feel warmth again.
I close my eyes and listen to the sound of my pounding heart.

It’s like every tiny thing is out to remind me of how alone I feel.