AIM [FIRST DRAFT]

Chapter 22: He Could Not Love Her More

The car became uncomfortably quiet after a while. This "special restaurant" was further than even Clifford had anticipated. The only thing keeping Aimee from drifting to sleep was Stefan's soft grasp of her hand, his thumb on her knuckles. She managed a smile when he looked at her, but it soon subsided. Stefan pulled a face as he tried to strike up a conversation. He was concerned about Aimee.

"Hey," he tightened his grasp, "are you alright?" he asked subtly.

She winced and bit her lip. Her expression changed completely, as though she had been automatically turned on by a remote control. She gulped hard, but did not look back at Stefan. His eyes had not shifted, not by a millimetre.

Aimee inhaled. He brought up the self-same topic she tried not to think about, only it was already going through her mind; her parents, her real parents. A tear expanded on her eyelash and fell down her cheek by the blink of her eye. She exhaled.

"Not now... okay?" It sounded as though she was begging, as noiseless as her voice was.

The car pulled into a parking lot and Clifford was sure to occupy the first open bay he saw - not that they were minimal. When Clifford turned the engine off, Aimee was tapping her heel on the car floor, impatiently waiting for him to unlock the doors. The thing on the door propped up. She wrenched her hand back from Stefan and used it to undo her seatbelt. She was out of the car in a flash and the door shut before anyone else moved a muscle. She did not wait before speed walking toward the entrance of the classy building in front of them. Stefan was not far behind. He closed the car door and ran after her, calling her name. She was wiping tears from her eyelashes. With her hands in front of her eyes, she did not notice him walking in reverse in front of her.

"I know," he said.

He held her at the arms, trying to get her to stop walking, once he had realised his 'comforting' was not helpful. He was bracing himself for screaming and kicking and punches, but instead Aimee crumbled in his arms with her hands on his chest and she cried. Neither of them spoke a word. His arms moved gently to her back as he embraced her. Clifford and Molly came up slowly. Molly tried to get a glance at Aimee's face, but it was hidden by her hair.

"Is she crying?" she glared hard at Stefan. Suddenly her expression was different. "Are... you crying?"

Stefan nodded. Tears fell from his eyes and his eyebrows were shaped like two crescent moons.

Clifford strived to brighten the mood. "Come on, Stefan, men don't cry," he said jokily.

It did not help.

"Oh please, Clifford, you cry all the time," Molly added. She looked back at Aimee. "Sweetheart, talk to me... what's wrong?"

Stefan could hear the sympathy in her voice. He hoisted Aimee up and motioned her in Molly's direction. "Talk to her," he said softly.

Aimee's eyes were red and nearly puffing up. It was not her best look. She took a deep breath and stared Molly in the eyes.

"I... I..." she stuttered. I... met my real parents. She thought the words, but could not say them.

"Are you struggling at school because-" Molly interjected.

"No!" Aimee swallowed when she realised her tone, the disapproval in Molly's eyes. "No... th-these are happy tears," she fabricated. "I'm just glad we can all sit at a table and have a meal. So, can we go in now?"

She could see the disbelief in Molly and the blank look on Clifford's face. She turned in Stefan's way and his almost apprehensive or sad look that she could not quite make out pierced her like a blunt dagger. He shifted to her side and swathed her body in his arm.