Play On (Play On 1)

Wanting to be there that instant, I said, “Let me come over, Aidan. Let me be there for you both.”

He was quiet and then gruffly agreed. Not wanting to delay, I did what I usually couldn’t afford to do and grabbed a cab. During the short journey, I tried not to think about the fact that Aidan wanted to push me away right now. How could he not understand that the thought of him losing Sylvie crippled me? They’d stolen my heart. It was theirs. And now it was breaking for them.

This time when I stepped out of the elevator, Sylvie was there. She rushed me, knocking me back on my heels, and I let her cling to me, holding her tight as she cried quiet tears.

Once I got her back in the apartment, Aidan took her hand and led her away to clean her face, murmuring to her all the time that everything would be okay. When he came back, he was alone. “She needs a minute.”

I was bristling with fury. “I don’t understand how this is happening.”

“This is happening because Nicky stupidly believed that the arsehole would always put his career before Sylvie. That there was no fucking need for legalities,” he hissed. “And I stupidly fucking let her convince me.”

“Is it this woman?” I asked. “This Sally person. Do you think she’s got something to do with it?”

“Oh, she’s got everything to do with it,” he said, lowering his voice. “She sat in the meeting with our lawyers today looking so fucking smug. If he wasn’t getting married, he would’ve buggered off to California without Sylvie.”

I glanced toward the back of the apartment, remembering the few times I’d met Cal. He seemed to care for Sylvie, but what did I know.

“He upped his visitation over the last year deliberately.” Aidan shook his head, seeming exasperated with himself for not seeing it. “Everything he’s been doing since Nicky died has been calculated.”

“He should’ve told you.”

Aidan’s eyes flew to mine and the heartbreak was too much for me to bear. “Aye.”

We both knew, without saying it, that if Cal had told Aidan his plans from the start, Aidan would’ve had time to prepare. He wouldn’t have spent the last year planning his future as Sylvie’s father.

Tears threatened to spill and I reached for him but he waved me off. “I can’t,” he told me gruffly. “I have to keep it together for Sylvie.”

I nodded. “She seems to understand what’s going on.”

“I think she could’ve coped with the idea as long as she was staying in Edinburgh, seeing me, seeing her friends. But dragging her off to fucking California …” He trailed off, shaking his head. “He’s a selfish bastard.”

“Didn’t the lawyers think the same?”

“As far as the law is concerned, Cal is her father. It’s on the birth certificate. He’s provided financial assistance for her upbringing, and he’s getting married and settling down. I’m merely her bachelor uncle with a less-than-stable career. My lawyer said it was so fucking cut and dry, it wouldn’t even make it to court. I’d have to prove that something sinister was going on with Cal, and there isn’t. And in any case, they’d likely put Sylvie through all these interviews with social services and traumatizing shit I couldn’t put her through. As for Cal taking her abroad, she said it was unfortunate that his job is taking him to the US, but—and I fucking quote, ‘The child should remain in the custody of her birth father, especially in light of the recent loss of her mother, and a judge would see it the same way.’”

“Aidan.”

“And I know they’re right. Rationally, I know that. I could even get on board with letting her go to him eventually, but why the fuck does he have to take her so far away from me? Eh? Why would he do that to a kid he proclaims to love when she’s already lost so fucking much?”

I tried to hold on to my anger, for his sake, to be the calm in his storm, and it took every ounce of control to do so. Still, I whispered, “Because he’s selfish.”

“I’m okay now.” Sylvie’s voice brought our heads around. She stood by the kitchen counter, her cheeks pale with red splotches from crying. Her eyes were red-rimmed but clear, and she wore a resolute look on her beautiful face that made me want to bawl like a baby. “Can we order pizza, Uncle Aidan?”

“We can order anything you want, sweetheart.”

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to scream, throw a tantrum and curse the world for its utter fucking merciless unfairness!

However, I didn’t.

I pasted on a shaky smile and joined them in the sitting room as Aidan called to order pizza.

We could do this. For Sylvie, we could pretend for a little while that everything was going to be okay.

I looked around at the familiar living room, confused. The TV faced out at the room from a walnut cabinet it had sat in as long as I could remember, a huge couch positioned in front of it, with a glass coffee table I hated because it needed dust and fingerprints removed every five minutes.

There was a photo framed on the wall above the television. The picture was taken when I was about nine years old. I’m in my dad’s arms and Mom is leaning into us. We look like a close family. Maybe we even were back then.

“There you are.”

I spun around, shocked to hear my dad’s voice, and even more shocked to see him pushing himself into the room in his wheelchair. He hadn’t changed a bit since I’d left.

“Dad?”

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he snapped. “Where have you been?”

“She won’t tell us.” Mom walked into the room behind him, shrugging into her jacket. “And I don’t have time to stick around and listen to her excuses.”

“They’re no excuses.” Jim brushed by her.

My heart stopped. “Jim?”

He gave me a sad smile. “Ye look like ye’ve seen a ghost.”

“You’re here? How are you here?”

Ignoring my parents muttering between themselves, Jim strode right up to me and cupped my face in his hands. “I’m always here, Nora.”

“Pixie?”

I spun around, out of Jim’s touch, reeling at the sight of Aidan and Sylvie standing by the fireplace. “How?” How did they get there?

“I thought you were with us, Pixie?” he asked, expression grim. Then just like that, Sylvie disappeared. I cried out her name and Aidan looked at the spot she’d been standing in. “With me,” he whispered. “I thought you were with me.”

“I am!” I cried, wanting to rush to him but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t budge. “Aidan!”

“Calm, Nora, I’ve got ye.” I glanced over my shoulder to see Jim looking down at the floor. I followed his gaze, terror suffusing me to see skeleton hands had burst through the floor. They had an unearthly grip on my feet, locking me in place.

“No!” I screamed, trying to pull away.

“Shhh,” Jim hushed me, wrapping his arms around my upper body to pull me against him. “Ye cannae leave me, Nora. Ye owe me.”

“Jim, please,” I sobbed.

“Pixie?”

I looked over at Aidan to find him glaring at me in hostile disappointment. He lifted a hand and my fear grew as finger by finger, his hand disappeared. “Aidan!”

“Nora! Nora, what’s happening?”

My eyes flew back over my shoulder to see my mother and father wearing twin looks of horror as they watched their own limbs start to disappear. “Nora!”

“Jim, let me go!” I screamed, struggling to get to them.

“There’s nae point, Nora. Ye’ll never reach them all in time. It’s better ye stay with me than tae choose.”

“That is choosing!” I shrieked in outrage.

“Then choose me. Finally, fuckin’ choose me. Ye owe me.”

“Jim …” I leaned into him. “I’m so sorry. Please, I’m so sorry.”

“Pixie.”

Aidan was disappearing. “No.” I fought against Jim, hitting and shrugging and punching but he held me supernaturally fast. “No!”