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I’m a creature of habit, and every morning I don’t work I plant my ass in front of the TV and catch up on crappy soap operas. Ellie would kill me if she knew that’s how I spend my spare time. She’s already on me to get out more and meet people. I know she means guys, which pisses me off because I’m still engaged. Technically…
“’Kay. Call me later.”
After spending the rest of the morning watching TV, I do a quick cleaning of the house, and then decide to go and visit Aiden. I try to see him a few times a week, but it’s hard. Every time I go there, I leave feeling hopeless. Not just because it reminds me of how much I’ve lost, but because I know he wouldn’t want this. Being locked in a body, unable to communicate would be the worst kind of torture, and it’s a torture I can’t end for him.
The strong smell of disinfectant hits me as I walk into his room. He lies in his bed, his face gaunt and gray. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I walk over and sit in the chair beside his bed. I take his hand and force a smile onto my face. He can’t see me, but I always feel the need to pretend happiness when I’m here, even though I’m dying inside.
“Hey baby,” I say, stroking his hand.
The steady beat of his breathing machine is the only response I get.
“You’ve had your hair washed.” I reach up to stroke his dirty blond locks. “You’ll need it cut soon.”
A nurse walks in and smiles sympathetically at me.
“Lovely day outside,” she says, walking around Aiden’s other side to check his feeding tube.
“It is,” I say. Only I don’t feel it. Why would I care about the weather when what was once my whole world is lying unresponsive in this bed? “How has he been?” It’s a question I ask every time and the answer is always the same. Do I expect them to one day tell me things were different?
“Stable,” she replies, picking up his folder. “He had a fever yesterday, but that seems to be under control now. He’s lucky to have you.”
Is he? I fail to see how. I’m so selfish. Every thought and feeling about Aiden comes back to how it affects me and my life. Every morning I wake up to a part of me wishing I’d receive that phone call to say he slipped away in the middle of the night. I tell myself it’s because I want his suffering to end when deep down it’s that I want my pain to go away. I’m so sick of living in limbo, not knowing where my life is going. I resent him for being this way, and that makes me a monster.
The nurse walks out, leaving us alone again. I struggle to think of something to say, so in the end I talk about Tilly. I tell Aiden everything, leaving out how she’s being teased. I’
m not convinced he can hear me, but on the off chance he can, I don’t want him knowing that.
I stay for another hour, the time dragging by slowly. As I gather my things to leave, his mother walks in. The usual feeling of defensiveness kicks in. I’m always on guard when I’m around her. She makes it clear what she thinks, and nothing I do is ever good enough.
“Afternoon, Kiara,” she says. Her voice is warm, but in stark contrast to the coldness in her eyes. “Good to see you finding time to visit Aiden.”
I want to laugh. Only Heather can make me feel as if I’ve abandoned her son. I come twice a week on the days I don’t work, and bring her granddaughter to her every damn weekend. I’d love to know how much more I’m supposed to be doing.
“Every Tuesday and Thursday I’m here. You know that,” I remind her.
She sniffs and brushes past me. I watch as she leans over his bed and strokes his hair lovingly. The only time I ever truly see love in her is when she’s around Aiden.
It wasn’t always this way. Before the accident, Heather was different. We got along so well—even more so after Tilly was born. When Aiden was injured, things changed almost instantly. I felt bad for her. I’d lost a partner, and while it was hard for me to see past that, she’d lost a son. As hard as it was for me to lose the only man I’d loved, I couldn’t even imagine coping if anything happened to Tilly.
I glance at Aiden, guilt ripping through me. I stand here and think as though he’s gone, when he isn’t. I talk about what I’ve lost, but he’s still present. Only he’s not the same. He’s not the man I fell in love with, or the man I promised my future to.
He’s an empty shell.
“I have to go,” I mumble, ignoring Heather’s raised eyebrows. I stumble out of the room and into the safety of the elevator before the tears begin to flow. It came from out of nowhere, as it usually does. A simple thought that cuts me right through the heart. I’ve lost him, and yet I can’t let him go because he’s still here. How am I supposed to deal with that? How is my daughter supposed to handle that?
I used to think there was nothing worse than death.
I was wrong.
Chapter Two
Max
“Come on, Max. Trust me, you’ll like her.”
I sigh and rub my head. For God knows what reason, Grant—or more his wife—is obsessed with setting me up. I don’t have a problem with that. In fact, I appreciate their interest in my love life, and God knows I work too much to find a woman on my own, but their track record with blind dates is less than stellar. I could write a book on some of the disasters they’ve set me up with in the past.
“Just like I was supposed to like the last one, who ended up hacking into my e-mail when I didn’t call her back for a second date?” I quip, my lips twitching into a grin. “Or the one before that? She was a great catch—I mean, despite the fact that she was seven months pregnant.”
