Words Left Unsaid

by Missy Johnson

  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.”

  Grant makes a face and runs a hand through his short, dark hair. “Okay, so our track record isn’t great, but this is Ellie’s sister. Trust me, she’s a normal, good-looking chick.”

  “Then why wasn’t this sister at the top of the list? If she’s so perfect for me, you would’ve set us up earlier,” I point out, not convinced.

  “She was in a relationship.” He shrugs. “Long story, but trust me, dude. This chick is hot. Long dark hair, stunning blue eyes, and a body . . .” He lets out a low whistle.

  “And how would your wife feel about you talking about her sister like that?” I chuckle.

  “Hey, if she can go on about how hot Matthew McConaughey is, then I’m allowed to look too,” he protests.

  I laugh and shake my head. Somehow, I doubt Ellie would agree with that one.

  I’ve known Grant since college. We lost contact when I moved across the country for work, but now that I’m back, our friendship has picked up where it left off. Ellie is a great chick and we get along well. I’m glad he found someone to spend his life with. I thought I’d found that, too, until she ran off with her best friend. Nothing kicks you in the balls harder than your fiancé leaving you for another chick. You’d think it would be better than her leaving you for a guy, but trust me—it’s not. It came out of nowhere. One day we were planning our wedding, and the next she was breaking it off.

  It’s completely irrational, but the thought that crossed my mind on more than one occasion was Am I that bad at being a dude that I’ve turned you off men forever?

  After Jules left, I went through many women—almost as if I was trying to prove to myself that I could adequately satisfy a member of the female sex. I tired of that pretty quickly when I realized that the only thing I wanted was what I’d lost. I wanted someone I could joke around with, someone who would make me laugh. I wanted a best friend who I could fuck senseless and then lay in bed for hours with.

  I want someone who occupies my every thought, who I can’t imagine living without. I want what Grant and Ellie have. I’ll never admit this out loud, but I’m a sucker for love and romance.

  God, can I sound any more pathetic?

  “So, are you in?” Grant asks, breaking through my thoughts.

  “Fine,” I sigh. “At the very least, your setups are entertaining icebreakers for when I do meet someone.”

  “That’s the spirit,” he cheers, slapping me on the back. “Now how about another beer?”

  I nod as he gets up and walks over to the fridge. Standing up, I look around. If this is her sister, there has to be a photo of her somewhere around here, right?

  I walk over to the bookcase and study the frames. There are loads of Grant, Ellie, and their four-year-old daughter, Cassie, but not much else. Up at the top, I spy a photo of Ellie with her arms wrapped around another woman. They both smile into the camera. I reach up, holding it in my hands so I can examine it.

  “This her?” I ask.

  Grant cranes his neck to see the photo and nods.

  Wow. For once he’s right. She’s stunning, with long dark hair that falls over her shoulders, and striking blue eyes that I can’t drag gaze away from. She and Ellie look nothing alike, other than the fact that they share the same crooked smile, and dimples. I put the photo back, suddenly feeling a whole lot more positive about this date. Surely they have to get it right eventually.

  Grant hands me a beer. We walk outside and sit on the deck, basking in the last of the sun. I yawn, stretching my arms out behind me, somehow managing not to spill my beer. It’s six in the evening on a Friday night, and I’m glad it’s the weekend so I can catch up on some sleep.

  “How’s the job going? Settled in yet?” he asks.

  I shrug. “Apart from a few people who are less than happy I’m there, it’s great.”

  “Good. It’s a great place—most of the people are good value.” He pauses to take a mouthful of beer. “Speaking of which, me and a few of the guys are going to have a few drinks and play some pool tonight, if you’re interested.”

  “Sure,” I agree, abandoning my plans of an early night. “Sounds great.”

  The week has been long, and while I love my job, I’m glad it’s the weekend. Grant is really the only person I know in the area, so I’m grateful he includes me in everything. I’m by no means a shy person, but meeting new people at age twenty-eight is hard.

  Everything at my age requires effort, because not many people are open to meeting new friends. At work, I’m the boss, so until I break down that barrier of principle and teacher, there’ll always be that power shift that makes friendships harder.

  Maybe a few nights out with Grant and his friends is just what I need.

  ***

  Lance barks as I pull inside the garage. He always gets impatient when I’ve been out all day. As soon as I step inside, I’m covered in eighty pounds of dog. Laughing, I grab his leash and we head out for a walk.

  We make our way down to the park, Lance tugging me along impatiently. I’ve been away from Chicago for six years, but I love that it still feels so familiar. The neighborhood I’m in is where my grandparents used to live, and it’s still the same. The houses are all well-kept, with nicely cared for gardens. It’s the perfect place to bring up a family.

  Not that that appears to be in the cards anytime soon.

  I walk Lance around the park for a good sixty minutes before we head home. Though he’s happy with his walk, I know he could keep going for a few more hours. He’s used to two long walks a day, and the odd occasion when I go running, I take him, too. Without his exercise, he’ll destroy the house and everything in it. My own fault for getting a Weimaraner.

  After I feed Lance and order myself a pizza, we sit down together on the sofa and watch some TV. I feel bad about leaving him at home to go out, but he doesn’t seem to mind too much, especially when I pull out the fresh bone I got for him at the butcher’s. I’m all for bribing my dog—especially if it’s going to protect my furniture.

  At nine o’clock I arrive at Bar Nein, a German pub not far from Grant’s place. He’s already there with a few of his friends. I walk over and join them.

  “Dude, no way. You can’t honestly tell me you’d rather wear the same pair of unwashed underpants for a year over the same pair of socks,” a guy says to Grant, his hand on his chest to get his point across.

  “What can I say?” Grant protests, laughing. “I have sensitive feet. A year in the same pair of socks…dude, can you imagine the bacteria that my feet would be growing?” He looks up and sees that I’ve joined them. His face breaks into a smile as he lunges at me, embracing me in a hug. I chuckle, wondering how many drinks he’s already had.

  “Guys, this is an old college friend of mine, Max. Max, this is Brett, Jake, and Harry.” I shake the guys’ hands and earn myself a slap on the back. Someone pushes a glass full of beer into my hands.

  “Drink fast and catch up, dude.” Brett laughs. I can tell from his glazed eyes that he’s had a few already too. “How long have you been in town?”

  “A few weeks,” I say, running my hand through my hair. “Just settling in and finding my feet,
you know?”

  He nods. “I’m in the Marines, so I move all over the place. I know how hard it is to pack your life up and move it somewhere else. You married? Girlfriend?” he asks.

  I shake my head.

  “Ah, nice and easy then. Nothing worse than uprooting a whole family. I’ve got a wife and a couple of kids. You’d think I moved them to fucking Africa, the way they complained.”

  “They complained because you’re an ass about it.” Grant laughs, slugging him in the arm. “Trust me, when those two little girls become teenagers it’s gonna be a thousand times worse.”

  “When they’re teenagers, I think I’ll move them on purpose just to take out any undesirable boyfriends.” Brett chuckles. “Emma came home the other day talking about a boy she’s got a crush on. She’s fucking eight!” He rolls his eyes at me. “You got kids?” he asks me, sizing me up.

  I shake my head and he laughs.

  “Good move, dude. Stay away from that gauntlet for as long as you can.”

  “Max here is actually the principal at Emma’s school,” Grant proudly states, throwing his arm around my shoulder.

  “Right, you’re the new guy I’ve been hearing so much about,” he says, a grin slowly spreading across his mouth.

  “From your daughter?” I ask. I can’t say I actually remember meeting Emma yet.

  “No, my wife is on the PTA. You’ve got a mixed crowd there, man.”

  I’m about to ask what he means by that when we’re interrupted by another one of their friends who has just turned up. They cheer and pat him on the back. I get the feeling this ‘friend’ doesn’t make it out to many guys’ nights.

  We have a few more rounds, and the more I drink, the more I’m enjoying myself. Grant’s friends are the total opposite of him. They’re loud and crude but loads of fun. I sit just off to where most of the guys stand, nursing my beer as I listen to them argue about anything and everything.

  “I haven’t seen you around here.”

  I glance to my left and see an attractive blond woman smiling at me. She stumbles forward, tripping over her own feet, but somehow manages to catch hold of the table. I chuckle, amused at the way she’s grinning at me like nothing happened.

  “Those I see every week, but you…I’d remember a sexy face like yours.”

  “You look like you’re struggling in those heels,” I say, raising my eyebrows. “Maybe you should sit down?”

  She nods and sits down next to me, her eyes glazed over. I don’t have the heart to tell her it wasn’t an invitation to join me.

  We chat for a little while and I buy her a soda, my lame attempt to try and sober her up a bit.

  To be honest, I’m flattered by her attention, but I have no intention of taking this any further than a little bit of harmless flirting. She’s cute and all that, but she’s clearly inebriated and in no condition to hook up with anyone. Not that one-night stands are my kind of thing. Been there, done that. That doesn’t mean I want to see the poor girl taken advantage of, especially when I see a few of Grant’s unattached friends looking her over.

  I slide off my seat and walk over to Grant, slapping him on the back. He turns around and smiles at me.

  “I’m going to take off. Thanks for the invite, though. I had fun.”

  “Hey, you’re welcome anytime,” Grant slurs, his breath reeking of alcohol.

  “Oh, keep an eye on blondie over there, okay? At least one of your guys is gonna pounce the second I’m out the door,” I chuckle.

  By the time I get home, I’m wrecked. I forgo my usual nighttime shower and go straight to bed. My head spins as I climb under the covers. I’m so out of practice when it comes to drinking. In college, I could drink for days with no sleep and still be able to function. Now I’m almost a one-drink wonder. It’s embarrassing, though I’m sure that if Grant has anything to do with it, it won’t be long until I build up my tolerance again.

  Chapter Three

  Kiara

  “Can you believe we made this little creature?”

  My eyes flutter open and I smile at Aiden as he holds our little daughter. He looks so perfect with her in his arms, like he was meant to be a father. As exhausted as I am after her eighteen-hour labor, I don’t want to miss anything by sleeping. So, instead, I lay there, watching the two most important people in my life.

  “She looks like a Matilda, doesn’t she?” Aiden says, studying her tiny features. “My sweet little Tilly.”

  “She looks like you,” I grin.

  “Poor little thing,” he jokes as she wraps her tiny hand around his finger. “She has your blue eyes,” he points out.

  “Yes, but they’ll probably change,” I grin. “All babies are born with blue eyes.”

  “You’re kidding me,” he replies, his eyes narrowing like he’s not sure whether to believe me or not.

  “It’s true,” I laugh. “If they’re going to change, it will happen around six weeks.”

  “Holy shit,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “There’s so much I don’t know about babies.”

  Gasping, I sit up in bed.

  My head spins as I glance around. I’m in my bedroom. Alone. All the memories come flooding back as I realize I’ve had another nightmare. My heart racing, I lay back down, the sheets drenched with sweat. I just need a moment to remember how to breathe. I shiver, my skin tingling as I force myself not to break down.

  I feel so empty. The nightmares always feel so fucking real. For the briefest moment I step back into the past where everything was perfect and happy. Then as quickly as it comes, it’s torn away from me. It’s as if experiencing it in real life wasn’t enough—I need to torture myself over and over with what I’ve lost.

  Forcing the sheets off me, I get up, because I know my one reason for living will be waking up any moment, demanding to be fed and clothed. As I tiptoe past her room I can hear her snoring softly. Stopping, I crack open her door and peer in. She lies on her side, her blonde hair falling over her face, her leg peeking out from under her sheets.

  My heart fills with warmth as I sneak away. Whenever I’m down, all I have to do is think about Tilly. It amazes me how such a tiny little person can change your whole perspective on life. She’s what keeps me going.

  She’s the only thing that’s kept me going for the last three years.

  ***

  My car hops along the freeway, the stench of burning rubber invading my senses. I slam on the brakes and pull off into the emergency lane. Getting out, I confirm my suspicions: a flat tire. Fucking great. Now I’m definitely going to be late for work. I have a spare in the trunk, but no idea how to change it.

  I call roadside assistance and tell them the problem. They promise me a mechanic within the hour, which surprises me, considering it’s a Monday morning. Leaning against the hood of my car, I call work to let them know I’m going to be late. The other receptionist, Zara, answers my call, and happily agrees to pass on the message. I hang up the phone, feeling defeated. No doubt she’s in there groveling for the chance to take over my shifts. I’m going to get fired for sure.

  All they need is a reason and I’m out the door. They’ve been riding me extra hard since new management took over, trying to make me break and quit, but I’ve held on. Something like this is exactly the ammunition they need.

  Fuck. I kick the wheel and instantly regret it when my big toe begins to ache. If I lose my job I don’t know what I’m going to do. I have savings, and thank God all of Aiden’s medical bills are covered by his insurance payout, but it wouldn’t last long, especially with a little girl to support.

  I’m still lost in thought when the mechanic pulls up behind me in his pickup. He climbs out from behind the wheel and gives me a smirk. My face heats because I can’t help but notice how hot he is. As he struts over to me, he pushes his dirty blond hair from in front of his eyes.

  “I’m guessing you’re my damsel in distress?” he asks, lifting his eyebrows.

  My face heats even more. Just as I’m abo
ut to answer, little flecks of moisture hit my arms. I glance up at the angry gray clouds.

  Great. Fucking fantastic.

  “Yeah. I have a spare in the trunk,” I mumble, dragging my eyes away from his well-defined muscles.

  He catches me staring and grins. “Your boyfriend never show you how to change a tire?” he asks, his tone playful. He kneels down beside the offending tire and pushes the jack under the car.

  My heart snaps at the mention of Aiden. He was always joking with me about my lack of mechanical knowledge. I close my eyes and lean against the car, ignoring the cool breeze as it hits my bare arms.

  “Seriously babe,” he says. “What if you break down in the middle of nowhere and I’m not around to help you?”

  “Well I guess you’d notice eventually that I’m missing,” I retort. “I’ll learn how to change a tire and check oil when you learn to cook,” I say, my voice sweet.

  He laughs and pulls me close. “You don’t wanna unleash that monster,” he murmurs, kissing my nose. “You have no idea the true extent of my culinary talents that lie deep within. You’ll never hear the end of it.”

  “They must be pretty well hidden,” I joke, giggling as he swats my arm—

  “Miss?”

  I jump, torn from my daydream. The mechanic stands in front of the wheel, wiping his hands on a dirty rag. The smell of grease hits my senses and I force myself to smile, no matter how badly I just want to cry. A rush of guilt sweeps through me. How can I stand here and ogle another guy when Aiden’s lying in a hospital bed across town?

  “All done.” He grins, his lopsided smile making my heart flutter. “Have a good day.” He hesitates for a moment before walking back over to his pickup.

  Turning around, I get behind the wheel and wait until he’s driven off before I let the tears roll down my cheeks.

  God, I miss him so much.

  Taking a deep breath, I check my appearance in the rearview mirror for the tenth time. The tears have dried up and the puffiness around my eyes has all but gone. I plaster a smile on my lips and nod, satisfied that it’s impossible to tell I’ve spent the last half hour crying.