Play On (Play On 1)
“Then go to him. Tell him that.” It might not be what he wanted to hear but at least he’d know he was important to her.
Seonaid was quiet, and then she looked up at me from beneath her long, wet lashes. “Sorry I interrupted your evening.”
At her pointed comment, I shifted a little uncomfortably. “About that—”
“You are allowed to have sex with other men, Nora. I’m happy for you.”
“I wasn’t anticipating it happening. I mean…” I flopped back against the couch. “I lose my head every time I’m around him.”
“Does that mean you two are already…?”
“No. I mean, we’re definitely heading in that direction and have been.” I gave her an apologetic look. “I didn’t want to talk about it yet.”
“I get it.” She kicked off her boots and curled her feet up on the couch. “You didn’t mention he’s older than you. Or that he is seriously, seriously hot.”
I laughed nervously. “Too hot.”
“No such thing.”
“Is the age difference that noticeable?” I asked, worried.
“Only that he’s older than you. How? How old is he?”
“Twelve years older.”
“Ach, that’s nothing. That means he knows what he’s doing in bed.”
I grinned. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he does.”
Her smile fell as she studied me carefully. “You have feelings for him?”
“He needs me,” I evaded. “He and Sylvie need me. And you? Are you sure you don’t have feelings for Roddy?”
“I lost Jim. I can’t lose Roddy,” she evaded right back.
Over the next few days I tried to call Roddy to see if he was okay but he was avoiding my calls, which meant he absolutely wasn’t okay. My plan was to drop in at Leith’s Landing on Sunday to see if I could catch him there and assess his situation for myself.
However, before Sunday could be reached, I made my way over to Aidan’s to have dinner with him and Sylvie. I didn’t know how we were going to get through another evening without it ending with us ripping our clothes off but I knew we both wouldn’t want to have sex with Sylvie in the apartment.
He needed to get a bigger place with thick walls and many doors between his and Sylvie’s room.
No one answered the buzzer at the front entrance so I hit a few of his neighbors until someone let me in. Aidan’s apartment door was unlocked so I pushed in tentatively, wondering where they were. I had a bad feeling in my gut I couldn’t explain.
“Guys?” I called as I walked into the apartment.
Aidan stood outside on the balcony, staring out at the view, his hands in his pockets. Although I couldn’t see his face, his posture was rigid. That and his lack of greeting at the door put me on alert. I looked behind me but there was no Sylvie. When I stopped to listen, however, I could hear the faint sound of music playing from her room.
I moved over to the patio doors and pulled it open. Aidan’s head turned slightly but he didn’t look at me. He was so remote.
I stepped out onto the balcony and placed a hand on his back. I studied his profile, willing him to look at me, and finally he did. What I saw in his expression made my body lock in fear.
There was raw anger and grief. “Aidan?”
He shook his head and looked back out at the view and my insides jangled with nerves.
“Aidan, please, tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m afraid if I speak,” he bit out, “that’ll I do something stupid. Like … fucking kill him.”
Dear God, what the hell was going on? “Okay, you’re freaking me out.”
Instead of answering, he whipped around and marched back inside the apartment. I hurried after him, closing the door behind us and locking out the cold. He’d been standing out there in nothing but a thermal henley and jeans.
“Where’s Sylvie?”
“In her room. Listening to her idol’s new album. Clueless. The way I want her to stay.”
“Aidan, you have to talk to me.”
His answer was to grab my hand and lead me down the hallway to a door I’d only peeked in. It led us into the master suite. A spacious room decorated in dove gray and accented with navy. Masculine, tranquil. He had a huge bed and bedside tables, a big comfy armchair, and not much else. Off the master suite I saw an open door to a dressing room, and opposite the bed another door leading to a private bathroom.
He closed the door behind us and then suddenly hauled me into his arms. I wrapped mine around his waist as he bent his head to the crook of my neck and held me. To my ever-mounting concern, I felt tremors run through him and I tightened my embrace, as if that could somehow ease whatever had done this to him.
After what felt like forever, he pulled back, cupping my face in his hands and staring at me like he wished I could ease his pain too. But what pain? What was going on? “Aidan?”
“He’s taking her from me.” His eyes glistened as his anger hit me full force. “Cal’s taking Sylvie.”
Stunned, horrified, confused, I could do nothing but stare at him as I tried to work out what the hell he could mean. “What? No. Wh—Aidan, that’s not possible. I thought that wasn’t possible. You have guardianship. Full custody.”
He shook his head, scrubbing his hands over his short beard like he wanted to rip the thing off in frustration.
I didn’t understand. Hadn’t Jan told me Nicky had full custody and she’d left Sylvie to Aidan’s legal care?
“There was never anything legal about the custody arrangements between Nicky and Cal,” he gritted out. “They agreed that she would have full custody and he would see Sylvie whenever he could. When Nicky died, he didn’t even question that she’d asked me to take care of Sylvie.”
Anger was building in my gut. “So why now?”
Aidan caught my flare of fury and fed off it, his face darkening. “Well, according to him, he always wanted to but he didn’t want to put Sylvie through too much change. She’d been living with me for months with Nicky. But now … now the fucker is getting married and he wants to give Sylvie a more stable environment to grow up in. His fucking words.”
“There has to be something we can do.”
“I’ve already spoken to my lawyer. She wasn’t …” He looked away, his throat working as if he was trying to hold down emotion. His voice hoarse, he said, “She wasn’t hopeful. But she says we can try. That there’s evidence to prove he’s been an unstable parent in her life.” Aidan looked back at me, his fear right at the surface. “We have to try, Nora, because he’s … he’s moving to California.” He flexed his hands, eyes burning with unshed tears. “He’s moving my wee girl away from me.”
I let my tears fall on his behalf, shaking my head. No. Cal couldn’t do this to him. I wouldn’t let him. “No.” I shook my head. “No.”
Aidan pulled me into his arms, kissing my hair, wrapping me up so tight. But in the end, it was me comforting him, whispering words of fierce assurance that nothing on earth would stop us from keeping that little girl with him.
Since Nicky had never filed with the court for full custody, since there was never any legal mention that Cal hadn’t been around when Sylvie was little, and since he’d provided financial assistance even if he hadn’t provided emotional assistance, Aidan’s lawyer gave him the bad news less than a week later.
I’d called him every day as soon as I got off work, and I’d wanted to meet him after my volunteer session on Wednesday but he’d told me he was bogged down with work and the legal situation and we’d talk later. Trying not to feel useless, I told myself I understood, but what I really wanted was to be there for him.
On Thursday after work, I called him as I walked down Cockburn Street toward my bus stop. Just as I was about to hang up, he answered.
And I knew by his tone that it was bad news. “Where are you?” I said.
“At the flat.”
“I’m coming to you.”
“No, Nora, I … I had to tell Sylvie today and she’s not good, I think—” He was cut off at the sound of Sylvie’s petulant cry in the background. “I want Nora!”