“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…”
“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 h
is 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?”
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