Words Left Unsaid (3 page)

Chapter Three

Kiara

“Can you believe we made this little creature?”

My eyes flutter open and I smile at Aiden as he holds our little daughter. He looks so perfect with her in his arms, like he was meant to be a father. As exhausted as I am after her eighteen-hour labor, I don’t want to miss anything by sleeping. So, instead, I lay there, watching the two most important people in my life.

“She looks like a Matilda, doesn’t she?” Aiden says, studying her tiny features. “My sweet little Tilly.”

“She looks like you,” I grin.

“Poor little thing,” he jokes as she wraps her tiny hand around his finger. “She has your blue eyes,” he points out.

“Yes, but they’ll probably change,” I grin. “All babies are born with blue eyes.”

“You’re kidding me,” he replies, his eyes narrowing like he’s not sure whether to believe me or not.

“It’s true,” I laugh. “If they’re going to change, it will happen around six weeks.”

“Holy shit,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “There’s so much I don’t know about babies.”

Gasping, I sit up in bed.

My head spins as I glance around. I’m in my bedroom. Alone. All the memories come flooding back as I realize I’ve had another nightmare. My heart racing, I lay back down, the sheets drenched with sweat.
I just need a moment to remember how to breathe
. I shiver, my skin tingling as I force myself not to break down.

I feel so empty. The nightmares always feel so fucking real. For the briefest moment I step back into the past where everything was perfect and happy. Then as quickly as it comes, it’s torn away from me. It’s as if experiencing it in real life wasn’t enough—I need to torture myself over and over with what I’ve lost.

Forcing the sheets off me, I get up, because I know my one reason for living will be waking up any moment, demanding to be fed and clothed. As I tiptoe past her room I can hear her snoring softly. Stopping, I crack open her door and peer in. She lies on her side, her blonde hair falling over her face, her leg peeking out from under her sheets.

My heart fills with warmth as I sneak away. Whenever I’m down, all I have to do is think about Tilly. It amazes me how such a tiny little person can change your whole perspective on life.
She’s
what keeps me going.

She’s the only thing that’s kept me going for the last three years.

***

My car hops along the freeway, the stench of burning rubber invading my senses. I slam on the brakes and pull off into the emergency lane. Getting out, I confirm my suspicions: a flat tire. Fucking great. Now I’m definitely going to be late for work. I have a spare in the trunk, but no idea how to change it.

I call roadside assistance and tell them the problem. They promise me a mechanic within the hour, which surprises me, considering it’s a Monday morning. Leaning against the hood of my car, I call work to let them know I’m going to be late. The other receptionist, Zara, answers my call, and happily agrees to pass on the message. I hang up the phone, feeling defeated. No doubt she’s in there groveling for the chance to take over my shifts. I’m going to get fired for sure.

All they need is a reason and I’m out the door. They’ve been riding me extra hard since new management took over, trying to make me break and quit, but I’ve held on. Something like this is exactly the ammunition they need.

Fuck. I kick the wheel and instantly regret it when my big toe begins to ache. If I lose my job I don’t know what I’m going to do. I have savings, and thank God all of Aiden’s medical bills are covered by his insurance payout, but it wouldn’t last long, especially with a little girl to support.

I’m still lost in thought when the mechanic pulls up behind me in his pickup. He climbs out from behind the wheel and gives me a smirk. My face heats because I can’t help but notice how hot he is. As he struts over to me, he pushes his dirty blond hair from in front of his eyes.

“I’m guessing you’re my damsel in distress?” he asks, lifting his eyebrows.

My face heats even more. Just as I’m about to answer, little flecks of moisture hit my arms. I glance up at the angry gray clouds.

Great. Fucking fantastic.

“Yeah. I have a spare in the trunk,” I mumble, dragging my eyes away from his well-defined muscles.

He catches me staring and grins. “Your boyfriend never show you how to change a tire?” he asks, his tone playful. He kneels down beside the offending tire and pushes the jack under the car.

My heart snaps at the mention of Aiden. He was always joking with me about my lack of mechanical knowledge. I close my eyes and lean against the car, ignoring the cool breeze as it hits my bare arms.

“Seriously babe,” he says. “What if you break down in the middle of nowhere and I’m not around to help you?”

“Well I guess you’d notice eventually that I’m missing,” I retort. “I’ll learn how to change a tire and check oil when you learn to cook,” I say, my voice sweet.

He laughs and pulls me close. “You don’t wanna unleash that monster,” he murmurs, kissing my nose. “You have no idea the true extent of my culinary talents that lie deep within. You’ll never hear the end of it.”

“They must be pretty well hidden,” I joke, giggling as he swats my arm—

“Miss?”

I jump, torn from my daydream. The mechanic stands in front of the wheel, wiping his hands on a dirty rag. The smell of grease hits my senses and I force myself to smile, no matter how badly I just want to cry. A rush of guilt sweeps through me. How can I stand here and ogle another guy when Aiden’s lying in a hospital bed across town?

“All done.” He grins, his lopsided smile making my heart flutter. “Have a good day.” He hesitates for a moment before walking back over to his pickup.

Turning around, I get behind the wheel and wait until he’s driven off before I let the tears roll down my cheeks.

God, I miss him so much.

Taking a deep breath, I check my appearance in the rearview mirror for the tenth time. The tears have dried up and the puffiness around my eyes has all but gone. I plaster a smile on my lips and nod, satisfied that it’s impossible to tell I’ve spent the last half hour crying.

I straighten my shirt and reach for my jacket on the backseat of the car. Something clatters to the floor. I reach behind my seat and poke around until my hand closes over the object. I pull it up and find myself staring at Tilly’s elusive pink hairbrush. Chuckling to myself, I tuck it into my bag.
Well, that saves me a trip to the store.

I’m about to get out of the car when my phone rings. I pick it up, recognizing the number as work. A pit forms in my stomach as I press answer.

“Hello?” I say.

“Kiara, hi, it’s Adam. You’re having a fine day, I take it?” he asks, his tone suggesting he really doesn’t want an answer.

I swallow a laugh.
Sure. Broken down—in more ways that one—is how I like to spend all my mornings.

“So listen, I’m going to be totally honest with you. Things just aren’t working out. We need someone who is willing to put their career first, and frankly you haven’t shown us any of that motivation over the last few months. You’ll be paid two weeks’ pay in your final check. I really do wish you well.”

The call is ended before I can even process what the hell just happened. Did he seriously just fire me over the phone without even giving me a chance to rebut? Angry, I grip my hands on the steering wheel.

This day just keeps getting better and better.

“Cunts,” Elli rants, making me smile. Seeing my perfectly dressed and well-mannered little sister use such a dirty cuss word is hilarious.

“I know, but we knew it was coming.” I sigh. “Now I need to find something else. And don’t even mention me showing my own work,” I warn her.

She closes her mouth and narrows her eyes. “Well, you need to do something,” she argues. “Why not put your teaching degree to some use?”

“Teaching?” I repeat.

To be honest, the thought hadn’t even entered my head. Before finding out I was pregnant with Tilly, I’d been in my final year of a teaching degree, specializing in Arts. I’d managed to finish it before she was born, but then all my attention had gone to raising Tilly. After Aiden’s accident, I’d needed work fast, and the job at the gallery had fallen into my lap.

“Look into it,” she urges. “At most you might need a refresher course, but you’ve done all the hard work.”

“Okay, I will,” I say. It would work well, fitting in with Tilly’s schedule. I feel stupid that it’s something I hadn’t considered before. “I saw Heather yesterday when I went to visit Aiden,” I say, changing the subject. Ellie knows all about my issues with Aiden’s parents. Her face falls into a frown. She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.

“Don’t let her get to you, Kee. Whatever she said, ignore it.”

“She didn’t really say anything, other than dropping a few hints that I don’t spend enough time focusing on her son.”

“Because you’ve got a daughter and a life that needs to move forward,” Ellie growls in my defense. “I’m so sick of her making you feel bad, Kee. That stupid woman needs a slap in the face.”

“I just feel so guilty,” I admit. “You’re right. My life is moving on whether I like it or not, but it’s so hard to see him like that. And I think and do things that make me feel like I’m a horrible person.”

“Like what?” she challenges.

“Like today when I called the mechanic. He flirted with me and I liked it,” I mumble.

“Kee, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s been three years, hon. How long are you expected to put everything on hold?” She hesitates before adding, “Would Aiden want that?”

No. We’d had conversations before about shit like this. I know he’d want me to move on, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

“It’s hard because he’s still here. I see him lying in that bed and I imagine how different our life would’ve been—”

“You can’t do that, Kee,” Elli cuts in, her eyes full of concern. “And you need to stop blaming yourself for him going to work that day. The Aiden you fell in love with is gone. He died the day of that accident. You’re sticking by him out of guilt and what you feel like you owe to him. But he wouldn’t want that. You know he wouldn’t want that.”

“I know,” I say, my voice quiet. “I just don’t know how to move on. I don’t know if I can.”

“You need to. For Tilly’s sake and your own, you need to.”

I pick up Tilly from school. She jumps into the car, looking happier than she has in days. I wait until she’s buckled up and then start the car. She turns to me, a big grin on her face.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” I tease her, and she giggles.

“’Cause it’s Monday and schools over,” she explains. “And ’cause I get to see Gran and Pops.”

“You sure you’ve been good enough?” I say, my mouth tugging into a smile.

“I have, Mommy,” she insists, her eyes wide. “And I made Gran a card in class.” She reaches into her backpack and pulls out a drawing.

I have no idea what it’s supposed to be, but I drop my mouth open and gasp. “Till, she’ll love it. You’re such a talented little girl, aren’t you?”

She giggles and places the card in her lap. I listen to her sing to herself as we drive through the backstreets toward Heather and Jim’s house. I love how excited she is to see Aiden’s parents, and I’d never interfere with that, but I can’t help but ponder over how our perceptions of the afternoons we go to visit her grandparents are so different.

For her, it’s a treat that she looks forward to all week. For me, it’s a punishment worse than hell. Okay, maybe a little dramatic, but the anxiety I feel about seeing Heather usually begins three days before and peaks when I pick Tilly up from school. It’s always the same story: while they adore Tilly, I get inundated with questions and accusations on how I’m raising my daughter. Nothing I do is ever good enough. We haven’t gotten along since the accident.

But, they dote on Tilly and seeing them gives her some sort of connection to her dad that I can’t offer her. I love nothing more than seeing Tilly happy.

At least tonight we weren’t staying for dinner because they have a function to attend.

That’s a small win for me.

We pull up in the driveway of their sprawling property. I turn off the ignition, laughing as Tilly jumps up and down in the seat next to me. The second I open my door, she’s out of the car and halfway up the path to the front door. I rush to catch up with her, wrapping my arms around her on the top step.

“You little monkey,” I say.

She squeals as I tickle her, jumping around in my arms.

Heather opens the door and Tilly’s face lights up.

“Gran!” She throws her arms around Heather, who laughs and hugs her back.

“There’s my little princess. Look how tall you’re getting! You’ll be taller than your pop soon,” she exclaims.

I snort. Unlikely, considering Jim towers to about six-four. My snort reminds her of my presence. She gives me a tight smile.