“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.
Chapter Thirteen
Max
I stand outside the movie theater fifteen minutes before the movie is due to start, waiting for her to arrive. Today’s the first Saturday where my focus hasn’t been work, and it feels weird, like I’m playing hooky or something. I’ve just paid for the tickets when I see her round the corner. She looks gorgeous in a pair of faded jeans and a deep blue sweater. Her long dark hair is swept back into a loose bun. She grins, her eyes sparkling as she approaches me.
“Sorry. I didn’t expect the traffic to be so bad.” She winces.
“It’s all good.” I hold up the tickets.
She grabs the tickets and examines them. “How did you know what we were seeing?”
“Because it’s not like we have any other choice,” I respond, my voice dry. “It’s the only thing playing at seven. Trust me, if I could’ve, I would have gotten tickets to something else.” Total lie. I’d see anything for this woman. I eye her seriously. “Now to the most important thing—popcorn or chocolate?”
“Why not both?” She shrugs, a gleam in her eye.
“I like the way you think.” I chuckle. We wait in line for our snacks and then find our seats in the semi-crowded theater. “If you tell anyone I’m seeing this movie, there’ll be repercussions,” I warn her.
She laughs, her eyebrows lift
ing. “You should’ve told me that earlier,” she teases, her voice light. “I know for a fact Grant can’t wait to slam you for seeing this.”
“Great. Thanks so much for your support,” I groan.
After the movie, I convince her to have a drink with me at a nearby bar. It’s a bad idea, considering how early I have to be up—even on a Sunday, but I can’t let the night end just yet.
For a Saturday night, it’s pretty empty, especially given its location in the center of town. We choose a table and I order a beer while she asks for a wine. She shifts in her seat like she’s nervous about being out with me. I tell a few bad jokes to try and lighten the mood, and it does.
“Nervous about tomorrow?” I ask as our drinks are placed in front of us. I smile at the waitress before turning my attention back to Kiara. The interviews for the teaching positions are being held tomorrow so it doesn’t interfere with school time.
“It’s been four years since I’ve applied for anything, and that job I got by total chance. What do you think?” she asks, her voice dry.
“Fair enough,” I chuckle. “Just be as prepared as you can. You’ll be asked a lot of questions—just answer them honestly.”
“Questions?” The color drains from her face. “Like what?”
“Nothing too hard—just about your experience and how you handle different situations.”
“Oh shit,” she groans. “Now I feel underprepared.”
“Don’t stress, Kiara. You’re going to rock this. Your application was really strong, and there’ll only be four of us interviewing you,” I add.
“Four?” she gasps. “Only four? What the hell? There might as well be a whole damn room,” she laughs. She reaches for her wine and swallows it down.
“It wont be that bad, I promise,” I assure her. “Why don’t I fire a few questions at you so you get a feel for the kind of things they’ll be asking?”
“That would be great,” she grins. “I know the basics, like my name.” I chuckle at her joke. “It’s just trying to work out what they want to hear that I’m scared about.”
“That’s easy. Why do you want the job?”
“I probably shouldn’t say for the money, right?” she jokes. I narrow my eyes at her and she giggles. “I’m kidding,” she assures me, holding up her hands. “I love kids and I love art. Being able to combine the two in a career would be amazing.”
“See, that’s a great answer. Passion for the role is what they want. Why did you originally choose teaching as a career?” he asks.
“Because it’s something I’ve wanted since I was a little girl, but after the accident I thought it wasn’t achievable.”
“Anything’s achievable if you want it hard enough,” I murmur. My eyes catch hers and she blushes. Am I still talking about the job? I’m not so sure…
“Kiara.”
Her eyes widen and she freezes, dropping her hand into her lap. I turn around and see a man and a woman standing behind us. This has to be Aiden’s mother because the look she’s shooting at Kiara is one of pure disappointment. Her gaze shifts to me, and her expression hardens.
“Good to see you out having fun,” she says, her attention back on Kiara, her voice cold enough to freeze ice.
My defenses kick in, the urge to protect Kiara overwhelming. Should she be feeling guilty about being out with me? Is that what she wants?
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” she prods, before I can speak.
“Right, sure. This is Max. Max, this is Heather and Jim. Aiden’s parents.” She looks physically sick.
“Nice to meet a friend of Kiara’s. We best be going or we’ll miss our movie,” she adds. They don’t wait for a response and I miss my chance to say something. Kiara shakes her head and stands up.
“I better go,” she mumbles, twisting a strand of hair behind her ear. I nod and stand up too, her sudden change in mood completely understandable. We walk outside in silence. I want to say something, but I’m not sure what. Is there any point in trying to turn this date back around? Running into your dying fiancés parents is definitely a mood killer.
God, the fact that I’m calling it a date just shows me how messed up I am. I’m setting myself up to get hurt, but I can’t do a damn thing to stop it.
By the time we reach her car, she’s lost in thought. I reach for her hand. A small gasp escapes her as she raises her eyes to meet mine.
“Don’t let her get to you, okay?” I quickly say, not giving her a chance to overthink it. “You’re doing nothing wrong. Remember that.”
She smiles, her eyes glistening with the threat of tears.
“I go from guilt for not being with him, to excitement about how much I enjoy your company and I’m just tired…” She shakes her head. “I just wish everything could be easy.”
“Easy’s not always fun,” I say, curling her arm around my waist. She stiffens as I inch closer to her. With my hand raking the back of her hair, I press my lips against hers. For a brief second, she doesn’t respond, but then I feel it. Her lips move against mine with passion and urgency, her taste incredible. I know what I’m doing is wrong and my timing is shocking, but I can’t stop myself. I need her.
“I-I have to go.” She pushes me away, her expression shocked. Fumbling with the lock, she escapes into her car and drives off. Cursing, I turn around and kick a stray trash can, sending it flying across the parking lot, narrowly missing a nearby car. I couldn’t have fucked that up more if I tried.
Way too early.
I shouldn’t have kissed her. Who knows what damage I’ve done?
Fuck. I kick the stones beneath my feet, annoyed at myself. With one stupid kiss, I’ve probably ruined everything. I walk over to my car and get in, trying to contain my anger. I wish I could say I regretted the kiss, but the truth is it was amazing.
What’s crushing me the most is I might’ve blown my chance to ever be able to do it again.
Chapter Fourteen
Kiara
I’m shaking as I push through the heavy front door that leads to Max’s office. It’s 10:45, and my interview begins in fifteen minutes. I wipe my sweaty palms on the sides of my charcoal pencil skirt and walk up to the reception desk, a smile planted on my face.
“Hi, my name’s Kiara Drummond. I have an interview at eleven?”
“Take a seat, Ms. Drummond. I’ll let them know you’re here.”
I nod and walk over to the row of three chairs, choosing the middle one. Taking a deep breath, I try and push all negative thoughts out of my head. As if worrying about the interview isn’t enough, all I can think about is that damn kiss.
I barely slept last night. After getting home from our ‘date,’ all I could think about was Aiden, and what I’d done. Had I cheated on him? It was the first kiss I’d experienced since the morning of Aiden’s accident over three years ago. For so long I’ve stuck by him, convinced that it was the right thing for me to do. Not only that, nobody had ever come close to making me not want to.
Until last night.
As much as I didn’t instigate that kiss, I wanted it as much as Max did. The chemistry I felt when his lips met mine rivaled any I’ve ever felt, and I feel awful because of it. I was sure Aiden would always be the only man in my life—even after the accident. But now, I don’t know what I want. The thought of moving on and closing that chapter forever feels impossible, but at the same time, I’m not sure I can walk away from another chance at happiness.
Why does everything turn into such a mess with me?
At six this morning, when I was having breakfast, I still had no idea if I would be at this interview. I changed my mind about coming at least ten times, but in the end, desperation won out. I need this job, which means putting my feelings aside and just doing it. I couldn’t even think about how I’d cope if I were actually successful. Seeing Max every single day, combined with the stress of a new job I have no experience working in? My stomach lurches.
The minutes slip by, and with every passing secon
d my nerves double. By the time Max appears at his office door, I’m ready to throw up. He smiles at me. I stand up and walk over to him, letting him lead me into the conference room next door.
“I wasn’t sure if you would show,” he murmurs, his eyes full of concern.
I focus on the tiny twitch of his jaw and smile. I feel bad for ignoring his fifteen phone calls, but I needed space to make this decision.
“I wasn’t either,” I admit. “But I need this, Max.”
“You’ll be fine. Just focus on me.” He says it with such sincerity that I nearly laugh. Does he have no idea how much I like him? If I focus on him I’m likely to forget everything and turn into a rambling mess. We walk inside the room and the mood instantly changes.
“Our next applicant is Kiara Drummond.”
My heart pounds when I see the long table of people waiting expectantly for me. One I recognize as Tilly’s teacher, Ms. Walker. Seeing her doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence after our last engagement. They’re all smiling kindly at me, which calms my nerves a few notches.
“This is the superintendent, Rob Angliss, Thomas Hallick, our school board director, and you know Kelly Walker, our lead teacher,” Max says.
I go along the line and shake hands, smiling at everyone.
“Take a seat, Kiara.”
I take my seat on one side of the table, clasping my hands in my lap. God, can they see how nervous I am? A trickle of sweat runs down the back of my neck and I regret dressing in a full suit. My forearm itches, and I resist the urge to scratch it. Why is it so hot in here?
“Welcome, Kiara.” Max smiles at me. His eyes display warmth and encouragement, which spurs me on. “Why don’t you tell us about yourself?”
Taking a deep breath, I nod. I can do this.
“Okay, firstly, I’m very excited to be here. I completed my teaching degree back in 2008. Shortly after, I got pregnant with my daughter, which put my teaching plans on hold.” I’m rambling. I pause to take a breath and then continue. “I’ve been working as an assistant to the director at Holloworth Art Gallery for the last four years, but now I’m looking to get back into teaching.”
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