Words Left Unsaid (10 page)

His doctor made it clear that removing Aiden would be detrimental to his care. Why is she ignoring advice from the one person that has been caring for him from the start?

This whole thing is so fucked up.

I wanted her to see sense and realize that Aiden deserves to die, but not like this, The last thing in the world I want is for him to suffer, or to put Tilly through anymore pain.

There’s no way. I won’t let her do this. I wont let her do this to either of them.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Ellie’s jaw drops open as she stares at me, eyes wide.

I nurse my coffee in my lap, kicking my legs up under me.

“She’s insane. I mean, is that even legal? Can she do that?”

“I don’t know,” I sigh. I lean back and rest my head against the soft leather of the sofa. “She just keeps pushing, Ellie. Am I doing the right thing, not forcing Tilly to see Aiden?”

“You’re stopping that child from enduring more pain and emotional damage until she’s old enough to handle it. That’s what being a good parent is all about.” She reaches over and squeezes my leg. “It’ll be fine, Kee. If you won’t move in there’s no way she’s stupid enough to take him out of hospital. How did your interview go?”

I laugh. In the middle of everything that was happening, I’d totally forgotten about my interview. Sitting in that room and answering those questions feels like it was months ago.

“I did okay.” I shrug. “God, El. It was so awkward seeing him after what happened last night.”

Ellie’s looks at me, confused. “What happened? You mean your movie outing?” Her eyes grow wide. She sits forward. “Kee, you tell me this instant what happened!”

I sit forward, placing my cup on the coffee table in front of me and resting my hands on my head. “He kissed me,” I admit, my voice muffled.

“He kissed you?” Elli repeats. “Did you kiss him back?”

“Yes. No. God, I don’t know. I guess for a minute I did, but then I left and . . .” I shake my head. “Before any of that happened, we ran into Heather and Jim in the bar we went to after the movie.”

“Oh no,” she whispers, clapping her hand over her mouth. “Is that where this whole Aiden thing has come from?”

“Maybe.” I shrug, shaking my head. “I don’t know what she’s thinking, other than that she wasn’t happy seeing me out with another man.”

“It was just friends going to a movie,” Elli reminds me.

“Yeah, until we kissed,” I groan. “What am I doing, Ellie? You know I blame you for this whole mess, don’t you?” I say, winking at her.

“I’m so sorry, Kee. I never thought things would get this complicated.” The poor girl looks so upset, I feel sorry for her. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do myself. I guess I’ll give Heather some time to defuse, and then try and talk some sense into her.” I stand up and give my sister a smile. “I better get Till home. Thanks for this, Ellie.”

“Yeah, I’m awesome at helping my sister mess her life up more,” Ellie mutters, getting to her feet.

I laugh and pull her into a hug. “This isn’t your fault, El,” I laugh. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

By the time we get home, I've calmed down, and at Tilly’s request we have hotdogs for dinner. After we eat, we do our usual routine of watching TV and doing her homework until it’s bedtime. She fights me on going to bed and begs me to let her stay up a little later. I almost give in, but all I want to do is sleep myself, and I can tell she’s tired from the way she keeps blinking.

“Not tonight, baby. You can barely keep your eyes open, and you have to be up early for school” I say, tweaking her cheek. “If you’re a good girl, I'll let you stay up later next Saturday.”

“Promise Mommy?” she asks, her eyes wide.

I nod and kiss her forehead, a smile on my lips. She’s so damn cute.

I help her change into her pajamas and then tuck her into bed. We read a book, and I lie with her until she falls asleep. It's funny—no matter how insistent she is on being up past her bedtime, she's always asleep so quickly. Tonight is no exception. Literally seconds before she starts snoring, she asks me if I’m sure she can’t stay up.

I sneak out of her room and pull the door closed. As I’m walking back down the hallway, my phone rings. I race down to the kitchen and lunge for it on the counter, not checking the caller. As soon as I say hello, I begin to panic that it might be Heather, someone I'm just not in the mood to argue with again—not yet anyway. Relief fills me when I hear Max's voice, followed by embarrassment when I remember our kiss. Even though I’ve seen him since then, the interview was hardly the place to address it properly.

“Hey. I hope not calling too late,” he says.

“No, I'm awake,” I say, pouring myself a glass of wine to calm my nerves. “I’m a bit of a night owl.” I chuckle, carrying my wine over to the sofa. I sit down, tucking my feet up underneath me.

“Well, that will have to change when you get the job,” he teases.

“
When
I get the job?” I repeat, my heart racing. Does he know something?

“It's not a done deal just yet, but you can be pretty confident,” he hints.

“When do you think I’ll know for sure?” I ask nervously.

“Maybe tomorrow,” he says. “We’re meeting to discuss the positions. Anyway, the reason I’m calling is to apologize for the other night.”

“No, you don't need to do that. If anyone needs to apologize, it’s me,” I say, rubbing my forehead. “I'm sorry. I know I'm giving you mixed signals, and I know that's not fair. It’s just the place I’m in at the moment is just so messed up.”

“And I get that—”

“I need to get this out,” I say, cutting him off. “It’s not that I don’t like you, Max. The problem is, I
do
like you.”

“How’s that a problem?” he asks. “Look, I’m not going to lie to you. I like you too, but if you’re not ready then I’m not going to push you. Just don’t avoid me, okay?”

The problem is it’s easier to remember the reasons why opening myself up to him is a bad idea when I’m not around him. When I’m around him, all my rationale goes out the window.

“Okay, I’ll try,” I promise. “I have to go and get Till ready for bed,” I fib, just wanting to end the conversation. “I’ll see you soon though, I’m sure.”

“Okay. Call me if you need me,” he says, before ending the call.

Sighing, I finish my wine and then glance at the clock. It's not even ten, but I'm so tired I feel as if I could sleep for days. I get up and put my glass in the sink and check that the doors are locked.

Even though I'm tired, I know I’m going to struggle to get to sleep. I have too much going on in my head and not enough time to think about it all. I have a shower to try and relax me, and it does, the hot water calming as it streams down my face. It’s a good ten minutes before I resurface. I reach for a towel and wrap it around my lean body, and use another towel to dry my hair. My skin is red from the piping hot water, but I don't care.

I walk down to my room and fumble through the drawer of my night table for a sleeping pill. I don't take them often, but I feel I need a little help tonight.

***

I sleep pretty well, all things considered, but waking up is a bitch. My head pounds, and I feel as if I’ve drunk ten vodkas and I’m now paying the price. I knew there was a reason I avoided sleeping pills as much as possible.

Pushing back the covers, I force myself out of bed, knowing I have to get Tilly ready for school. I wrap my robe around me and stagger down to the kitchen. First thing I do is put on coffee. I feel as if I'm going to need a lot of that today.

Tilly wanders out, her blond hair a mess all over her face. She yawns and looks at me, a strange expression on her face.

“What's wrong?” I ask, setting some toast on the table for her.

She sits down. “Nothing. You look more tired than usual,” she replies, taking a bite of her toast. “Maybe you need to go to sleep earlier,” she adds, parroting a line I’ve used on her many times.

I narrow my eyes at her but I can’t help but laugh. Sometimes I wonder if she's really only five.

“Thanks for your concern, sweetie. I'm fine, I just need my coffee.”

She screws up her nose and takes another bite of her banana and honey toast. After she finishes, I bundle her into the bath, regretting not taking the time to bathe her last night. It's so much easier getting as much done in the evening before bed, because the mornings are usually a mess with getting her ready.

After I drop her off at school, I go back home to start my cleaning. Mondays are cleaning days. I hate cleaning. With a passion. So I allocate one day a week where I get it all done. The rest of the time I do as little as possible.

It takes me a good few hours to get through the vacuuming, washing, cleaning the bathroom, and cleaning Tilly’s room. By the time I'm done, I'm finally beginning to wake up properly.
Hey, and it's only taken five hours
.

Exhausted, I collapse on the couch with a coffee and relax. I decided I’ve earned a break, and I can’t think of a better way to use it than watching crappy daytime TV. I’m halfway through a rerun of
Jerry Springer
when there’s a knock on the door. Getting to my feet, I race to answer it, annoyed at whoever has interrupted my viewing. What if I miss finding out who Latisha’s father is?

An official-looking man wearing a shirt and tie stands on the porch. He smiles tightly when I open the door. My stomach lurches. I know he's not a cop, but his presence reminds me of the night of Aiden’s accident.

“Can I help you?” I ask, my knuckles white from holding onto the doorframe so tightly.

“Are you Kiara Drummond?” he asks curtly.

I nod.

He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a yellow envelope, handing to me.

I take it, trying to figure out what it is.

“You've been served,” he adds.

What?

He walks away briskly before I can ask any questions. My heart races as I tear into the envelope, pulling out a thick, legally worded document. My blood freezes as I read through the cover page.

No. There is no way she can do this.
This isn't fucking fair. But there it is, written in black and white, impossible for me to deny.

Heather is suing me for the shared custody of Tilly.

Somehow I make it back to the sofa, the room spinning as I sit down. I scan through the pages. I have no idea what half of this shit means. From what I can gather, she’s claiming that I'm stopping Aiden from being part of Tilly’s life, and that as his guardian and power of attorney, it's in her and her husband’s best interest to make sure their son’s legal entitlements are met.

Of course she goes on to mention that Aiden will be moving back home. I laugh when she states his prognosis is good. On what planet is his prognosis good? She also states that she's spoken to me on several occasions about Tilly seeing Aiden on a more regular basis, and that each time I’ve denied her request. Which is true, but for good fucking reason.

“This is fucking insane. It has to be a joke,” I mutter, tossing the papers down on the coffee table. I reach for my phone and call Ellie, the only person I can think of who will understand.

“What's up?” she asks, her voice bright.

“I've just been served. By Heather.”

“Served what?” she says, confused.

“She is suing me, Ellie. For shared custody of Tilly. She's fucking suing me.” I laugh, because it’s all I can do to not completely lose it.
How the hell could this happen?
I'm so angry. I feel goddamn violated. Can she really do this? “How can she put Tilly through this?”

“Shit, Kiara, you’ve got to be kidding me. I don't know what to say. Just sit tight—I'm coming over.”

She hangs up. I drop the phone in my lap and lie back on the sofa. I don't even know what to think. How can this be happening? What am I supposed to do now? How do I fight this? I don't know the first thing to do, or what Heather and Jim’s rights are as Aiden’s parents. Do they actually stand a chance at winning this? Surely they don't. I mean, what judge in their right mind would put an innocent, terrified child in a situation that is only going to cause her more grief?

Less than ten minutes later, Ellie barges through the front door, her face clouded with anger. She throws her arms around me, cursing Heather and comforting me at the same time.

“Are you okay?” she asks, kissing my cheek. “You don't have to go through this alone. You've got me and Grant, and Mom and Dad. Fuck, I'm so angry,” she mutters, flopping down next to me the couch. “Who do they think they are?”

“I don't know. I have no idea what to do now. I guess I need a lawyer?” I say. I laugh at how little I know. “No doubt they're dipping into Aiden's insurance payout to get the best legal advice they can,” I say. My tone is bitter.

“I know this isn't the time, but Kee, you should’ve fought them for power of attorney over Aiden years ago.”

“I know,” I groan. “I didn't want to put Till through any of this, though.”