Words Left Unsaid

by Missy Johnson

  “Stop it,” I say as Tilly lifts the lid of the pizza box sitting on her lap, sending a waft of steam onto the windshield.

  “I was just checking they got it right,” she replies, her head high.

  I laugh. “Uh-huh. Is that why I saw you put a piece of pepperoni in your mouth?”

  “It was falling off,” she protests. “Anyway, we’re home.”

  We pull into the driveway, and I reach for the pizza and carry it inside while Tilly dances around my feet, begging for a slice.

  “Wash your hands and I’ll dish up,” I say, setting it down on the kitchen counter. She scrambles off to the bathroom as I prepare our plates and pour us each a glass of juice.

  After dinner, Tilly and I snuggle on the sofa watching TV until it’s time for bed. Like every night, she tries to fight for more time, but I hold my ground. Before I know it, she’ll be a teenager and I’ll regret giving in.

  I wait fifteen minutes after I’ve tucked her into bed before I call Max. Usually, if it’s going to be a bad night, I’ll know in those first few minutes. Tonight she was out like a light, and I’m pretty sure nothing will wake her.

  I carry a glass of wine over to the sofa and stretch out. Reaching for my phone, I punch in Max’s number, my stomach fluttering at the thought of talking to him. We chat about everything and nothing and before long, two hours has passed.

  “I love how we never run out of things to talk about,” I chuckle.

  “Yeah, and I’m not usually a phone kinda guy. My family can vouch for that,” he jokes. “And I didn’t even ask you how your day went.”

  “Really good, actually. I’m loving it.” I pause, wondering if I should tell him about my chat with Kelly. “I had an interesting talk with Kelly this afternoon.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, it was really odd, actually. She was very interested in our relationship. It felt uncomfortable, having her ask all these personal questions that really aren’t any of her business. Does she have a problem with me or am I imagining things?”

  Max pauses. I knew it.

  “She’s got a problem with me. She was in line for the principal role and hasn’t handled losing to me very well,” he says. I nod, feeling better. That makes sense. “Because I was so invested in you she became suspicious. I think she thinks you got the job because we’re together. Don’t worry, I’ll sort it.”

  “It’s okay. Maybe you’re just better leaving it alone and hoping it sorts itself out,” I suggest, not wanting to stir up any trouble.

  “Maybe.” He sighs. “Anyway, you need sleep for your court date tomorrow and I have work to do. Call me if you need me, okay?”

  ***

  I stand in the lobby of the courthouse, my handbag clutched in front of me. I glance around, looking for any sight of Kaitlin, but I can’t see her. Down the hall, I spot Heather and Jim and their attorney. My heart begins to pound faster and I feel dizzy. I make my way over to the nearest seat and sit down. The last thing I want to do is collapse before this mediation.

  I got next to no sleep last night, and I’m paying for it now. The three coffees I’ve consumed this morning have made me jittery. God, please let me get through these next few hours. I don’t expect anything to actually be resolved today, and I’ll be relieved when it’s over.

  “Kiara.”

  I look up and see Kaitlin rushing toward me, her left hand juggling two cups of coffee. She hands me one, a beaming smile on her face.

  “Thought you could use this.”

  I laugh and take the cup, not sure more caffeine is the best move for me, but I don’t want to be rude.

  “So, are you ready?” she asks, her serious eyes locked on mine.

  I nod. “I guess so.”

  We walk over to the elevator and press the up button, getting out on the second floor. Kaitlin runs over a few details as we make our way down the hall. She stops outside a room.

  “This is it. Just remember, stay as calm as you can. The whole point of mediation is to try and reach an agreement outside of the courts. There are no right and wrong answers—just be honest.”

  I nod and draw in a deep breath. Honesty. I can handle that.

  From the corner of my eye, I can see Heather and her group beginning the short trek down the hall. Kaitlin also notices them and nods for us to go inside. She opens the door.

  The room is small and empty, apart from the long wooden table that sits in the center. Sunlight shines through the large windows, making the space appear less stuffy. A man sits at the head of the table, his silver gray hair perfectly combed into place. His mouth is drawn into a frown as he reads over some notes, looking up as we walk in. We take our seats on one side of the table.

  God, I’m already intimidated. I offer him a small smile and I’m relieved when he offers one back.

  “Kiara, I presume? I’m Martin Ballister, one of the mediators here at the courthouse. How are you?”

  “I’m good, thanks,” I murmur, tugging at the hem of my jacket. Sweat begins to build up at the back of my neck. I reach up and rub it, trying to force myself to relax.

  “The others shouldn’t be too much longer.” No sooner do the words leave his mouth than Heather, Jim, and their team of lawyers walk in. I’m overwhelmed by how much support they have, but that’s quickly shadowed by anger when I remember how they’re paying for it.

  That money should be for Tilly. Ellie was right: I should’ve fought them on my rights after the accident. But surely it’s too late for that now?

  Heather refuses to look at me, while Jim offers me a sympathetic smile. I get the feeling that he doesn’t want to be here any more than I do, and that gives me a small sense of satisfaction. If even her husband thinks she’s being unreasonable, surely a judge will see it too?

  “Okay, I think we’re all ready to begin?” our mediator asks, addressing all of us.

  I nod, my eyes firmly on him. Out of the corner of my eye I see Heather’s lawyer whisper something to her and she smiles. My blood boils as I grit my teeth.

  We run through the case—again—and after all the details have been shared, the mediator asks both of us what issues we would like to address. I clear my throat and refer to the list I’d jotted down earlier.

  “My main concern is the effect this will have on Tilly, and Aiden. I’ve spoken to his doctors, and they’ve told me that they’ve warned Heather that moving Aiden out of his current environment could result in catastrophic consequences.”

  “The hospital simply doesn’t want to be held responsible if something did go wrong,” Heather cuts in. “They’re covering themselves. I have my own private medical professionals who have all cleared Aiden’s ability to reside at home.” She holds her head high. “In fact, one even suggested this move might help him.”

  “Help him?” I laugh, shaking my head. “He hasn’t improved in three years, Heather. Nothing is going to help him.”

  She glares at me, her face red. “And why would he want to improve when his fiancée abandoned him and won’t let him see his daughter?”

  My mouth drops open. “Are you suggesting it’s my fault he hasn’t improved?” I gasp. “You’re ridiculous! There is no point to this whole thing because you’re never going to see reason.”

  Heather stands up, leaning forward, until her hands are resting on the table. She glares at me, her expression menacing.

  “You’re right about one thing, Kiara. Nothing is going to be resolved today.”

  I sit there, open mouthed as she stalks out of the room, Jim and her lawyer trailing behind her.

  “That went well,” I mutter to Kaitlin.

  “Believe it or not, I’ve seen worse outcomes,” Kaitlin replies. “Don’t let it get to you. We knew the chances of settling this out of court were minimal.”

  She’s right, but a small part of me was hoping Heather would come around. I nod, determined to stay positive. It’s just a minor setback.

  We’re still going to win this.

  ***

/>   As I leave the courthouse, my phone rings. I see that it’s Kaitlin and answer right away, my stomach twisting in knots that something is wrong. We just spoke. What could she possibly want with me so quickly, unless it’s bad news?

  “Hello,” I say, my breath catching in my throat.

  “Sorry to bother you, but we’ve been given a court date for next month. The twenty-second of June.”

  “Wow,” I murmur. “That was fast.”

  “Yes, much faster than I was expecting, too. We have a few weeks to prepare, but as I said to you before, they really don’t have much of a case.” She pauses before adding, “If there’s anything Heather can bring up that might hurt your credibility, let me know, okay?”

  “Like what?” I ask, confused. I reach my car and slot the key into the lock, juggling my bag and the phone.

  “Past relationships, anything that can show you in a different light.”

  “I haven’t had a relationship since Aiden,” I say, my voice quiet.

  “And the man who came to our first appointment? Is that still ‘just friends’?” she asks.

  Even though she can’t see me, my face heats up. I duck inside my car, resting my arm against the window.

  “Does that really make a difference?” I ask, a wave of annoyance jolting through me. “This is about what’s best for Til—”

  “Right, and Heather is going to use anything she can to show that you might not be the best role model for her.” She sighs, her tone softening. “I’m on your side, Kiara. You need to be prepared for the kind of things they’re going to throw at you. They have little to cling to, so they’re likely to grip onto whatever they can. Do me a favor and come see me next week. We’ll go over what to expect, okay?”

  “Fine, I’ll make an appointment,” I agree, feeling bad about taking my anger out on her. I know she means well, and that she wouldn’t be taking this direction without good reason.

  “Oh, one more thing,” Kaitlin cuts in. She hesitates, which makes me nervous. “You should prepare yourself for them wanting Tilly on the stand.”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head venomously. “There has to be a way around that. I don’t want them guilting her into feeling worse than she already does about everything.”

  “You might not have much of a choice,” Kaitlin replies, her voice grave.

  ***

  Max looks shocked when he opens the front door, but his expression is quickly replaced with concern. I already doubt myself for turning up on his doorstep unannounced, but it’s too late now. He guides me inside, his hand on my shoulder.

  “You don’t look that great,” he comments, reaching out to touch my cheek.

  “Yeah, well, I look better than I feel.” I grin. “Sorry to turn up without calling or anything.”

  “Nah, it’s fine. Though you’ll have to excuse the mess. I wasn’t exactly expecting visitors.” He glances behind him and back into the house, his brow creasing as his cheeks turn a slight shade of red. “How did you get my address?” he adds, curiously.

  “Ellie.” I grin.

  He leads me into the living room, where I make myself comfortable on an old black leather sofa and I immediately feel at home. I don’t know why, but I was expecting something a little flashier, with modern furnishings, funky artwork, and expensive appliances, but his style is more subdued. Nothing matches, but it all works together.

  “Do you want a drink?” he asks, reading my mind.

  I nod, and he disappears into the kitchen.

  He returns a few minutes later carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses. “Hard day, I’m guessing?”

  “Yeah. The mediation. It solved nothing, as I expected.” I let out a bitter laugh. “God, I don’t know why I’m so upset. I expected this.”

  “Maybe even though you weren’t expecting things to resolve, a part of you was hoping she’d come to her senses before this went any further?”

  “Well, look where that got me.” I rub the bridge of my nose and sigh. “She’s taking him out of the hospital this weekend. I just wish there was some way I could make her see how stupid she’s being.”

  “She’s a mother who’s struggling to cope with losing her son,” Max says, his voice gentle. “I’m not supporting her actions in any way, but that doesn’t mean I can’t understand them. He’s her only child?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I whisper. A pang of guilt hits me. Am I being selfish and not allowing myself to see things from her point of view? “I guess I see what you’re saying. And after Aiden . . . Tilly is the only piece of her family left.”

  “We do irrational things when we’re faced with losing those we love,” Max comments.

  I sip my wine, the sharp liquid rolling over my palate as I digest his words.

  “Maybe she’ll figure it out before things go too far—maybe she won’t. But eventually she’ll see that all she’s doing is prolonging everyone’s pain. And when she does, for Tilly’s sake, you need to forgive her and move on.”

  “When did you get so wise?” I grumble, narrowing my eyes at him.

  “Trust me, I’ve had plenty of fuck-ups in my life. I’ve learned a lot from my mistakes.”

  “Oh?” I grin, raising my eyebrows. I take another sip of wine, the alcohol beginning to relax me. “Well you can’t just say that and leave me hanging. I want details.”

  “Okay,” he says, laughing. “Let me think of something I can say that won’t send you running.” He rubs his jaw and sinks back further into the cushions next to me. “In high school, I had a thing for a girl in my class. I wrote her this seriously mushy love letter. It was bad. Some of the shit in this letter…” he shakes his head, cringing. “I’m embarrassed just thinking about it. So anyway, I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, but I gave it to her. The next day, right in the middle of class, her boyfriend—who I didn’t know she was with—stands up and reads the letter to the entire class. I was mortified.”

  “Oh, you didn’t,” I gasp, laughing.

  “Trust me, I did. It took a whole year for me to live that down, too. And my fuck-ups only got worse from there.”

  “Tell me about your relationship with Jules,” I say.

  He raises his eyebrows, and my face heats up. He’s never mentioned his ex to me before. The little I know I’ve dragged out of Ellie, who’d forced it out of Grant.

  “I thought she was the one,” he admits. He sits forward, cradling his glass in his hands. “We met in college and she was my first serious relationship. We were together for about three years before I proposed.” He laughs, his attention firmly on the rim of the glass as he turns it in his hands. “I went all out with the proposal. I was terrified she was going to say no. But it turned out I didn’t have to worry. She was as excited as I was to spend her life with me. Or so I’d thought.”

  “What happened?” I ask gently.

  “One day out of the blue, literally a few weeks before the wedding, she comes home and says we need to talk. Those words never end well.” He chuckles. “She told me she couldn’t marry me. She was in love with someone else. She insisted she hadn’t cheated on me, and I respect her for that, I guess, but at the end of the day she didn’t love me.”

  “Wow,” I mumble. “That’s harsh.”

  “Oh, it gets worse. After our breakup, I find out she’s shacked up with some female colleague. I confronted her about it and she admitted that she’d always been into women, and that she pushed herself into our relationship because she thought her family wouldn’t accept her if she was gay.”

  “I can’t even imagine how that would feel,” I say, reaching for his hand.

  “Really?” He shakes his head. “God, you’re amazing. You’ve been through so much worse than me, and you’re still able to feel sorry for me? I feel bad complaining about my love life when I think about what you’ve been through.”

  “I don’t see it as that different,” I reply. “We both lost people we loved without warning. Neither of us woke up that day expecting it to
be the last time we’d kiss our partners, or share the words ‘I love you.’ How is what you went through any less of a tragedy than what I’ve been through?” Even as the words come out of my mouth, I realize I don’t truly believe that. His loss is a loss, sure, but is it comparable to mine?

  “Because I should’ve seen the signs. I can’t believe I was so stupid to not see something was up. I thought we were pretty good together.” He laughs. “You have no idea what that does for a guy’s self-esteem. The woman I was planning on spending my life with was into girls, and I had no fucking idea.”

  “People who have something to hide are experts at keeping that side of themselves secret,” I say. “What I love about you is you went all in, barriers down for her. Why would you question her love for you? Who wants to be in a relationship where you’re analyzing every little detail, wondering if there is another meaning to it?”

  “What you love about me?” He grins. He sits back and turns to face me, his eyes sparkling.

  My face heats up. I can’t work out if he’s being serious or winding me up.

  “It’s a figure of speech,” I say dryly.

  “Is that all it is?” he asks softly.

  I swallow hard as his hands edge closer to my face. His fingers gently stroke along my cheek. I sigh, my heart racing at the feel of his touch. He leans closer, his eyes not leaving mine. I can barely breathe, but I don’t move. The only thought running through my mind is how much I want to feel those lips brush against mine.

  I lean forward and initiate the kiss. His lips brush against mine and a rush fills my body. I sigh as his fingers caress the side of my face, his deep blue eyes penetrating mine, as though they’re looking for a sign to continue. Closing my eyes, I move my hand to the back of his head, where my fingers roam his soft hair as I pull him gently toward me. Our mouths connect, this time with more urgency, leaving him little room to doubt what I need from him.

  “I don’t want to rush you,” he breathes, his soft kisses trailing down my neck.

  My heart pounds like it’s beating out of my chest. I want him so badly right now it takes all my resolve to slow myself down and think about things.