Words Left Unsaid (Love Hurts 3)

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.

I straighten my shirt and reach for my jacket on the backseat of the car. Something clatters to the floor. I reach behind my seat and poke around until my hand closes over the object. I pull it up and find myself staring at Tilly’s elusive pink hairbrush. Chuckling to myself, I tuck it into my bag. Well, that saves me a trip to the store.

I’m about to get out of the car when my phone rings. I pick it up, recognizing the number as work. A pit forms in my stomach as I press answer.

“Hello?” I say.

“Kiara, hi, it’s Adam. You’re having a fine day, I take it?” he asks, his tone suggesting he really doesn’t want an answer.

I swallow a laugh. Sure. Broken down—in more ways that one—is how I like to spend all my mornings.

“So listen, I’m going to be totally honest with you. Things just aren’t working out. We need someone who is willing to put their career first, and frankly you haven’t shown us any of that motivation over the last few months. You’ll be paid two weeks’ pay in your final check. I really do wish you well.”

The call is ended before I can even process what the hell just happened. Did he seriously just fire me over the phone without even giving me a chance to rebut? Angry, I grip my hands on the steering wheel.

This day just keeps getting better and better.

“Cunts,” Elli rants, making me smile. Seeing my perfectly dressed and well-mannered little sister use such a dirty cuss word is hilarious.

“I know, but we knew it was coming.” I sigh. “Now I need to find something else. And don’t even mention me showing my own work,” I warn her.

She closes her mouth and narrows her eyes. “Well, you need to do something,” she argues. “Why not put your teaching degree to some use?”

“Teaching?” I repeat.

To be honest, the thought hadn’t even entered my head. Before finding out I was pregnant with Tilly, I’d been in my final year of a teaching degree, specializing in Arts. I’d managed to finish it before she was born, but then all my attention had gone to raising Tilly. After Aiden’s accident, I’d needed work fast, and the job at the gallery had fallen into my lap.

“Look into it,” she urges. “At most you might need a refresher course, but you’ve done all the hard work.”

“Okay, I will,” I say. It would work well, fitting in with Tilly’s schedule. I feel stupid that it’s something I hadn’t considered before. “I saw Heather yesterday when I went to visit Aiden,” I say, changing the subject. Ellie knows all about my issues with Aiden’s parents. Her face falls into a frown. She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.