Words Left Unsaid (4 page)

“Hello, Kiara.”

When her attention is back on Tilly, I follow them inside, closing the door behind me. While Tilly is occupied with an array of new toys, I sit down in the living room in one of the oversized plush leather chairs. Heather brings in some coffee and cake. I help myself to a slice and thank her for the coffee.

“She loves her new toys,” I comment in an effort to make conversation.

“Yes, I hate to see the poor thing missing out,” Heather replies, lifting her cup to her mouth. My grip on my own cup tightens as I try not to react to what I’m sure is another dig at my lack of financial security.

“Have you thought about taking her in to see Aiden?” She asks the question so innocently that it makes me want to scream. She knows very well that won’t be happening and she also knows damn well why.

“I’ve told you before, she doesn’t cope seeing him like that,” I say, keeping my voice calm. “If it’s going to harm her, I refuse to do it.”

“She’s probably scared because she never sees him,” Heather presses. “If she saw him more, maybe she’d get used to the way he is.”

The way he is?

“She saw him for months every week and things got progressively worse,” I point out. “I’m sorry, but until she’s ready…” I shrug, not sure what else I can say.

Tilly was seeing Aiden regularly up until she was four because I thought forcing her to visit him was the best thing for her. She went from being a happy, free spirited little girl to an angry, resentful shell of her former self. The nightmares were the worst, where she’d wake up screaming about Aiden. After countless visits with psychologists and doctors, we decided it was best for her to not force her to see Aiden.

Heather excuses herself, mumbling something about spending time with Tilly. I sit there, my head resting against my hand, glad for a moment of peace. Heather is hard work. Every week, we go over the same things. She just doesn’t give up.

I watch through the window as Tilly plays with a hot pink Frisbee while Heather waters the garden. When it comes time to leave, I’m relieved. Maybe what I need to do is give her and Till more space together. I happily leave Tilly at Ellie’s, why not at her Gran’s too? Maybe that will get Heather of my back for a few minutes.

The fact that my own parents live s far away and travel so much means communication with them is limited. She loves speaking to Nan and Gramps, but the conversations are few and far between. Take now, for example, my parents are a third of the way into a three-month cruise around the Mediterranean.

As we’re leaving, I turn back to Heather.

“Would you like to have Tilly stay over sometime?” I suggest. “She can come over after school on a Friday and I can pick her up on the Saturday.”

“I’d love that,” Heather says, her face lighting up. “Thank you.”

“I’m sure she’d enjoy it as much as you,” I smile.

***

My phone rings the second I exit Tilly’s room. Ellie’s name flashes on the screen as I curse myself for not putting it on silent. Pressing answer, I close the door and then tiptoe down the hallway to the living room.

“Sorry, I just put Till to bed,” I say, yawning.

“You sound tired,” she observes. “I won’t keep you, I just want to know if you want to go out for dinner tomorrow night?”

“Sure. Who’s going to look after the kids?” I ask, brushing my hair out of my eyes. I’m so tired I can barely manage standing as I make my way down to my bedroom.

“Grant can,” Ellie replies.

I let out a giggle, the image of Grant trying to wrangle Tilly and Cassie into bed flashing through my mind. “Okay, just let me know where and when. Nowhere too expensive, though, considering I’m now unemployed,” I add, my tone dry.

“My treat, okay? Gotta go, love you, see you tomorrow.” She hangs up before I can protest.

I drop my phone on the night table and undress. I don’t bother with my usual pajamas, jumping under the covers instead. As I snuggle into the blankets trying to warm myself, I think about how lucky I am to have Ellie and Grant. I swear they think about me more than they do themselves.

Sighing, I close my eyes, no longer fighting to keep them open.

The urge to sleep is too strong to resist.

Chapter Four

Kiara

It’s Tuesday evening, and as I walk into the restaurant Ellie has chosen, I’m a little surprised by how nice it is. It’s not her usual style—small tables lit by candles are spaced around the room, the centerpiece a crackling fire that appears to be just for show, which is good considering how warm it is outside.

“Hi,” I say, smiling at the waiter who has approached me. “A reservation for Ellie Black?”

“Two people? Certainly, right this way.”

He leads me to a table in the far corner of the room, pulling the chair out for me. I sit down, shocked that I’m somewhere before she is, for once.

“Thanks,” I say, smiling at the waiter.

He nods and then disappears, leaving me alone to take in the menu that is in front of me.

“You must be Kiara?”

I look up, shocked by the strong, masculine voice addressing me. I nod, slightly confused as to who this guy is. I glance around, wondering if maybe by some weird coincidence there’s another Kiara waiting for this tall, very attractive,
very
hot man.

“Great. Sorry I’m running late.” He sits down opposite me and runs a hand through his dark, slightly curly hair. I glance around again, my face heating up.

“Uh, you look kind of confused. You
are
Kiara, right? Kiara Drummond?”

“I am,” I reply. I realize I’m staring at his sexy, deep blue eyes and look away. “Who are you?”

“I’m Max. Grant’s friend?” he says. He shifts awkwardly in his seat as he waits for me to respond. That’s when it clicks.

I’m going to fucking kill her.

This is a date. Ellie has set me up on some stupid blind date. My hands clench into fists in my lap as I try and figure a way out of this without embarrassing this guy. What the hell was she thinking? She’d have to realize that I’d never go for this in a million years.

“So, correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t seem thrilled to be here,” he says, interrupting my thoughts. His kind eyes look intrigued.
He’s probably wondering why the hell I’m on a date I don’t want to be on.

“I’m sorry, it’s not you,” I sigh, covering my face with my hands. “Look, I don’t know how to say this, but I thought I was meeting my sister, Ellie, for dinner.”

His face drops as he gets what I’m saying. “Right. So you had no idea that this was…” He shakes his head and mutters something under his breath. “I can go if you like,” he offers.

I sigh, feeling bad for the poor guy. “We’re both here now. We might as well eat. I just didn’t want to give you the wrong idea . . .”

“Okay, well, you’ve definitely set me straight,” he laughs, his deep blue eyes sparkling. “How about a drink?” he asks, motioning toward my empty glass.

I nod and he waves over the waiter.

“I’ll have a glass of red and my friend will have…?”

“White,” I smile. “Preferably dry.”

The waiter smiles and leaves us alone. My heart begins to thump louder as I struggle to think of something to say. Even if I
were
ready to date, I’d avoid it because of this, the awkward silence. I don’t handle male attention well. Even when Aiden started showing interest in me back in high school, I was shy and tongue-tied around him. But he eventually wore me down with his silly sense of humor and his ability to make me laugh.

“So, let’s just call this two friends having dinner, huh?” he gives me a wink and I immediately relax. “Tell me something random about yourself.”

“Random?” I repeat, smiling. “God, okay. If it wasn’t for the fact that I had a five-year-old, I’d probably never get up before noon.”

“Me too,” he grins. “Well, minus the five-year-old part. And the fact that I’d probably lose my job.”

“What do you do?” I ask, curious.

“Nope, none of the usual first date getting-to-know-each-other shit happening here,” he says, his voice firm. “This isn’t a date, remember? Horror movies or romance?”

“Horror,” I grin. It’s been less than fifteen minutes, but I feel like I’ve known this guy forever. “Mexican or Chinese?”

“Both? Can I do that?” he asks. “Though if you held a gun to my head and forced me to choose, it would be Chinese.” He narrows his eyes, his expression making me giggle. “Favorite color?”

“Blue,” I say.
Like your eyes
.

I shake my head, no idea where
that
thought came from. I study my menu, the connection between us broken by my own stupid thoughts. When the waitress approaches us to take our orders I almost jump up and kiss her, the interruption a perfectly timed distraction.

“I’ll have the fish ragout,” I say, setting my menu down.

“And I’ll go with the grilled steak and mushroom medley.” Max hands his menu back to the waitress and I do the same.

She smiles and leaves us alone again.

“So, how do you know Grant?” he asks, his voice casual.

“He’s married to my sister,” I remind him, giggling.

His face reddens and I laugh. “Shit, I knew that. Sorry,” he says with a wry grin. “I’m trying my best to keep this light and fun and not the slightest bit uncomfortable.” He makes a face. “Though if I told you about some of the ‘dates’ Grant has set me up on over the years, you’d see this is nothing.”

“Oh, you have to tell me now,” I say, leaning forward. “I love disaster romance stories.”

“Then I’m your guy,” he says, slapping his chest. He sits back in his chair, a crooked smile on his face. “God, where do I even start? One woman left me halfway through a date to sleep with some other dude she’d met online…in the bathrooms at the restaurant I’d reserved for us.”

“No,” I laugh, “you’re kidding me. How did you even find out?” I ask.

“When I went into the men’s room and found them going at. She didn’t even have the decency to apologize.” He shakes his head. “The sad part is that was one of Grant’s set ups. Hell, most of the worst ones were Grant’s doing.” He smiles, his eyes twinkling. “I’m actually kind of impressed at how normal you seem.”

“Thanks, I think,” I giggle. “I’m not sure if I’m flattered or insulted to be one of Grant’s set ups. Remind me never to go to him for dating advice.”

He laughs and reaches for his drink, his eyes not leaving mine. I’m having fun and I love how he makes me laugh, but I’m still worried that he hasn’t gotten the message. I’m in no way ready for a relationship, no matter how sexy and charming this guy is.

We finish our meal, and I check the time on my phone. Wow.
We’ve been here nearly three hours
. I’m shocked at how quickly time has passed. When the waitress places our bill on the table, I pull out my credit card.

“No way, you’re not paying,” he says, reaching out to touch my hand.

I jump, not expecting his touch or the jolt of chemistry that pulsates through my body after it. I move my hand away quickly, my heart racing.

“Trust me, Ellie will be paying for this night—in more ways than one.” I grin. I wave the waitress over and hand her the card. She charges it and returns it to me.

“Look,” Max begins as we walk toward the door, “I know this isn’t something you wanted, but I had fun. Any chance you’d like to do this again sometime?”

“Look, you seem like a lovely guy, but my life is pretty difficult at the moment. I’m actually engaged . . .” I wet my lips, my voice trailing off as his expression changes to one of shock, and then understanding.

“Oh. Ellie didn’t mention
that
.”

“That’s because Ellie thinks it’s time for me to move on.”

“Right,” he says, decisively. “Well, it was lovely to meet you, Kiara.” He leans in and kisses me on the cheek.

I breathe out, caught off-guard as the musky scent of his aftershave hits my senses.

“You too.” I smile. I dig out my keys and unlock my car. The second I’m safely inside, I grab my phone and call Ellie.

“Don’t hate me,” she pleads.

“I cannot believe you fucking did that to me,” I growl, tears springing in my eyes. I’m so angry that I’m having trouble letting it out.. “Do you have any idea how awkward that whole night was? Was Mom in on it, too?”

“No, Mom didn’t know anything. I haven’t spoken to her in weeks. I’m so sorry, Kiara. I thought—”

“No, you didn’t think!” I explode. “That’s the problem, El. You never think about how it’s going to affect me. So you think I need to move on, fine, but you can’t fucking force me to do it.”

I slam my finger down on the
end call
button, my hands shaking. The knock on the window catches me off-guard and I whip my head around to see Max clutching my jacket. Wiping my eyes, I wind down the window.

“You left this inside. Are you okay?” he asks, concerned.

“I’m fine,” I reply. But I’m not. The tears begin to roll down my cheeks as I quickly wipe them away.

“You can’t drive like this. Move over,” he orders me.

I shuffle over to the passenger seat, still insisting that I’m okay when the stupidity of my actions hits me.
What am I doing?
I don’t know anything about this guy. He could be driving me to somewhere isolated so he can murder me. As ridiculous as it sounds, there’s something about him that I trust.
Sure, Kiara. I bet his last victim thought the same thing.

“Really, you don’t need to do this. I’ll be fine.”

“Uh huh. You look it,” he observes, studying my face. “Look, I know you barely know me, but sometimes it helps to talk it out.”

“I’m just . . . God, I don’t even know,” I groan, covering my hands over my face. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says, his voice gentle. “This is how all my dates usually end.”

I chuckle in spite of myself and offer him a smile. He hands me a scrunched up tissue from his pocket, which I take gratefully. He starts the car, locking his seatbelt into place.

“Where do you live?” he asks, pulling out of the parking lot.

“How will you get back to your car?”

“I’ll call a cab. It’s not a big deal.”

“No,” I protest. “Really, I’m good now. I promise.”

He ignores my pleas and takes to the road. I give in and direct him to my house.

“You want to talk about it?” he asks, his voice soft.

I gaze out the window, a wistful smile on my face.

“I mean, you don’t really know me, but I’ve been in situations where I wished I had someone to talk to.”

“I just feel overwhelmed,” I say quietly. “My story is much more complicated than I let on, and sometimes it gets to me.”

“More complicated than your sister setting you up on a date when you’re engaged?” he jokes.

“Believe it or not, yes,” I say, managing a grin.

We pull into my driveway just as the rain begins to fall. I sit there for a moment, gathering my thoughts. He waits silently, his hands on the wheel. I let out a deep breath and unclasp my seatbelt.

“Thanks for this,” I say. “And I’m sorry things didn’t go better.”

“Hey, I got a free meal and decent company. I’d say that’s a win.” He grins a crooked smile, running a hand through his dark, wavy hair. “Thanks for dinner, by the way. But I pay next time.”

“Hey, thank Ellie. She’s the one who’s paying. I’ll make sure of that,” I chuckle.

We get out and the rain begins to fall harder. I look over at him and realize I can’t leave him standing out here, waiting for his cab. That would make me a total bitch.

“Come in and call,” I offer.

He shrugs and follows me up the path to the front door.

Inside, I shrug my jacket off, glad I left the heat on. “Coffee?”

“Please,” he replies. “Cream, no sugar.”

I leave him in the living room to make the call while I get the coffee going. I put my phone on charge, ignoring the several missed calls from Ellie, who I’m still extremely pissed at.

He walks into the kitchen as I’m pouring the coffee into our cups.

“They say about ten minutes,” he says, his hands shoved into his pockets. He wanders over to the counter and I push his cup across to him. “Thanks.”

“I’m kind of disappointed that this isn’t the most disastrous date you’ve been on,” I say, my attempt at humor half-hearted.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s up there,” he teases, making me smile. “Seriously, Kiara, for what it’s worth, whatever you’re going through, it’ll get better.”

Will it?

He wanders over to my bookshelf and examines the photos on display. There’s one of Tilly proudly holding up a picture, and another of the three of us, taken just before the accident.

“Is this your daughter?” he asks.

I nod.

“And your fiancé?”

“Yes. Tilly—Matilda, and Aiden.” As I say his name a lump forms in my throat. Max isn’t pushing me for the details, but I feel I owe it to him to explain. “He was in an accident three years ago that left him in a coma.”

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” he murmurs. His eyes search mine and I can see pain from his own experiences in there. “Is he…”