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e taunt me. Is it any wonder Tilly is so terrified to see him?
“Hey you,” I whisper. I swallow the lump in my throat. I’m on the verge of tears because I hate not being able to fix this.
If I’d thought coming here would ease my guilt, I was wrong. I feel a thousand times worse.
“You have no idea how much I wish I could hear your voice,” I mumble, wetting my dry lips.
For months after the accident I’d listen to his voice messages on my phone every day—sometimes ten times a day. It was the only thing that could help me feel close to him. I felt closer to him listening to a message than I did sitting next to him in this room. How fucked up is that?
“I just wish you could tell me what to do, because I don’t know what the right thing is anymore,” I whisper. “I’m tired of everything, Aiden. I just want to wake up and realize this is all a dream and you’re in bed next to me.”
I stare at him for a moment, as if I expect him to respond. Of course, he doesn’t. My hands shaking, I pick up a copy of the TV Weekly sitting on his bedside table.
“I know how much you enjoy your trashy TV, so I’ll get you up to date with all the showbiz news,” I say, my tone brightening up. We used to argue over how much crap I watched on TV. Aiden hated anything that wasn’t news or a documentary.
I run through the entire magazine, telling him everything from Kim’s latest scandal to who’s sleeping with whom. Just as I set the magazine back down, Heather walks in. She stiffens when she sees me but recovers quickly, her mouth lifting into a smile.
“Kiara. Lovely to see you,” she says, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “No Tilly again?”
“No, she’s in school. And she isn’t ready to come in,” I say, my voice quiet. I don’t want Aiden to have to hear this.
“Sometimes children aren’t mature enough to know what’s best for them,” she says, a hint of cruelty in her voice.
“True, but if she’s going to wake up screaming every night from nightmares, then I’m not going to force her to do something she doesn’t want to do,” I snap.
“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.
