by Anna Paige
I let her lie there on my chest, her entire body heaving as she gasped through her tears and continued muttering about all the things she wished she’d done differently. I didn’t say anything, I just held her and waited her out.
Once her tears began to slow, I lifted myself from the couch and went to the foyer before returning with the album she’d showed me on my first morning here.
Talia watched me warily as I sat down with it and motioned for her to sit at my side. “What are you doing with that?” Her voice was low and gravelly, throat raw from her exertions.
Opening the album to the first page, I pointed to the photo she’d shown me of Amelia in her princess dress, smiling happily as she twirled in the middle of the room. “Does the child in this picture look unhappy?”
She glanced over but said nothing, already starting to argue. “Spencer…”
I held a finger to her full lips, shushing her before returning to the album, flipping the page. “What about here? Is this a picture of you two at the zoo?”
She nodded, her eyes lingering on the page. “She loved the zoo.”
I met her eye. “And did you take her there often?”
Another nod.
I slowly flipped through the entire book as Talia followed along with me, page after page of smiling photos with family and friends, special occasions and silly random photos. When I was done, I set the book aside and turned to face Talia fully. “Did anything in there indicate that she had an unhappy life? Was there any evidence of unhappiness?”
“Those are just pictures. Nobody takes pictures of the shitty days, Spencer,” she whispered, not easily letting go of her guilt.
“But everyone has shitty days, sweetheart. We take pictures on the good days because those are the memories that matter most.” I pointed to the album that now sat on the coffee table. “I bet the shitty days are evenly spaced between the good ones. And did she smile any less in those photos? Did she stop loving the park or the zoo just because she couldn’t always go when she wanted?”
“Of course not.”
“Do you think she loved you less when you told her no?”
She looked away, blinking back a fresh flow of tears. “She cried sometimes when I wouldn’t let her have her way. I can still hear that in my head whenever I think about her and it kills me to remember all the times I failed her.”
I reached out and tugged her chin toward me. “Stop it. You didn’t fail her. And not letting her have ice cream before dinner or making her wait for her next trip to the park are not mistakes, Talia. That was you being a parent and it’s a parent’s job to make their children understand that we can’t always have what we want. It’s best to learn early that not everything we desire is meant for us.”
She tried to pull her chin from my grip and I let her, thankful when she continued to quietly study me.
“You were a good mother to her. I will remind you of that every damn day if I have to, because it’s the truth. You did everything right and what happened was not because of anything you did. You have to stop punishing yourself. Your little girl wouldn’t want that for you. I don’t want that for you.” I pressed my lips to hers and swept her hair from her tear-dampened cheeks. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s get ready for bed and we can finish this conversation after I get you all tucked in.”
She gave a half smile as I stood and offered my hand. “I am pretty tired. It’s hard to sleep after dreams like that,” she offered as we headed for the bathroom to brush our teeth.
I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “You have me here tonight. I’ll chase away the bad dreams.”
We were laying together in a tangle of limbs sometime later, not making love, not even talking much, just holding each other when she spoke softly against my chest. “You know, one of these days I want to hear the rest of your story. I feel like my drama dominates the conversation and it’s giving me a complex. Surely, I’m not the only one who is a little fucked up.”
“You’re not fucked up, sweetheart. You’re perf... I mean flawless,” I corrected.
I could feel her smile on my skin and watched with one of my own as she reached back to touch the spot where her tiny non-flaw was located. “Good save, Spence.”
“I’m serious. You’re smart and sexy, successful and well-loved, and you’re stronger than anyone else I’ve ever met. You, my gorgeous girl, are absolutely amazing.”
She didn’t argue but I heard a doubtful huff before she snuggled closer against me.
“Don’t huff at me. I meant every word and every word was one hundred percent truth.”
Her voice was thick and sleepy when she replied. “And I meant what I said, too. Starting tomorrow, we focus on your neuroses and give mine a break.” She took an inordinately long breath and blew out slowly, seeming to dispel the lingering sadness in her chest. “Be prepared. The interrogation will commence in the morning.”
Well, shit.
How’d this get turned around on me?
Spencer
Wednesday
I SAT NEAR THE bar at Canary, going through some emails on my iPad and keeping a wary eye on Talia’s jackass ex while they sat together at one of the nearby tables. She insisted on a table rather than a booth, telling him that it would give him more room for his notes and computer. Truth was, she thought a booth seemed too intimate.
Her posture was all business as she sat ramrod straight, a pleasant but distant smile on her face as they talked. She had her feet tucked back under the chair, ankles crossed and far out of ‘oops, didn’t mean to brush your foot’ range.
He’d tried that on Monday.
I’d cleared my throat loudly and cast a deadly glance under the table.
He rolled his eyes but didn’t attempt it again.
Just as I suspected, he had balls only when he thought he’d have the advantage. Too bad for him, he would never have the advantage in this situation. If he thought having a past with her gave him the edge that somehow he could exploit to pressure her into returning to him, he was dead fucking wrong.
And stupid.
A man who would walk away from a woman in that situation deserved to spend the rest of his life alone. Sorry piece of shit.
I set my iPad on the bar and reached for my coffee, a custom concoction that Talia had been making me every morning before she sat down to work on the article. Each time, she would place it in front of me with a tense smile that belied her nervousness. I would take it gratefully and pull her in for a kiss, and whisper into her hair, “You’ve got this, sweetheart. And what you can’t handle, I damn sure can.”
She always managed a genuine smile after that, one that was meant only for me and vanished as soon as she turned to join Derek at the table.
Every morning I swatted her ass as she went, enjoying his pissed-off glare more every day.
It’s the little things that sometimes give the most pleasure.
And speaking of pleasure, every day when their meeting was over, she and I would return to her apartment to work off her tension. It was the only up-side to dealing with the asshat currently sitting across from her.
As if drawn by my lurid thoughts, Talia looked my way with a sexy half smile. She rolled her eyes at whatever he was saying and let out an audible gasp when I flicked my tongue over my lower lip, giving her a little preview.
Derek saw the gesture and tensed, one hand gripping the table so hard his knuckles were white.
I didn’t bother hiding my amusement.
Maybe if I pissed him off enough he would hurry this shit along so I could get her home and beneath me where she belonged.
Unfortunately, that strategy wasn’t working and he was starting to get on my last fucking nerve. He hadn’t made any outright advances but he always tried to steer the conversation to something from the past. Whether updating her on the goings on in their hometown—as if her parents didn’t already do that—or bringing up old friends and trying to get her to reminisce with him, he
was working hard at reinforcing their connection.
Talia was working hard to keep it severed.
The biggest issue was that her pleasant and nurturing nature wouldn’t allow her to straight out tell him to fuck off. Well, that and the fact that she was counting on this article to boost her visibility. She’d told me a couple days ago that she was interested in expansion—maybe opening a location in Baltimore—and Derek’s piece on Canary could help make that happen. So, she was playing nice and hoping for the best.
As long as he kept things professional, I would have no reason to step in and risk him lashing out at her through the magazine. I doubted he would do that, regardless. Despite his blatant hostility toward me, he was kind and attentive to Talia—something that would have served him better back when she fucking needed him. And if he handled the feature on Canary in a way that seemed hostile, his past relationship with her could be used to discredit him with both the readers and the owners of the magazine.
Basically, if he tried to screw her over, he would be screwing himself too.
That actually worried me more than anything. He couldn’t use the piece to persuade or punish her, but that left a whole world of other possibilities. I couldn’t help wondering why he was so goddamn cocky. It made me think he knew something I didn’t. That was the thought that kept me coming to their meetings every morning.
I needed to figure him out.
I was doing some checking around but hadn’t come up with much so far. Not that I was going to let that stop me. There had to be something.
In between attending these meetings and my afternoon workouts with Talia, I was also helping Clay with his wedding present to Ali. It was going to be the most amazing wedding gift ever given and would totally change a lot of lives. I was impressed with Clay’s creativity and generosity of spirit on this. When he mentioned it, it was a vague idea that we’d spent hours honing and would need the next several months to execute.
And my presence in D.C. this week was going to work to our advantage. I could get in touch with some old contacts and form a few new relationships along the way that would ensure the success of our little plan.
I could hardly wait.
“Well, that’s probably enough for today. I’ll let you get back to work. We should be able to finish up the interviews tomorrow and I’ll bring the photographer Friday. Just a heads-up. Not that you need to do anything different for that. The restaurant is gorgeous, as is the owner.” His voice was syrupy sweet as he spoke to her.
I gritted my teeth, watching as he stood and extend his hand.
She got to her feet and took it, giving it a quick pump and trying to pull hers back as he lifted their joined hands toward his lips.
I was off my seat in a flash.
His eyes widened at my approach and he reconsidered, letting go of her hand before his lips made contact and straightening to face me as if he’d done nothing wrong. “Nice to see you again. Scott, right?”
“It’s Spencer, asshole. Not that you’ve forgotten. Touch her again and I’ll guarantee you remember it for the rest of your life.”
He turned to Talia, feigning concern. “Are you sure you want to be with someone so controlling? It makes me worry about your safety, to be honest.”
“I don’t see how who I sleep with is any of your business, Derek.” He flinched at the mention of us having sex. Score one for Talia. “And he wouldn’t be acting this way—wouldn’t need to be here at all—if you weren’t doing your best to be inappropriate at every opportunity. It makes me uncomfortable and you don’t seem to care, which is typical of you. If you really want to worry about me, worry about what you are doing to me by trying to force me to be someone I haven’t been in a long time. I’m never going to be the girl you remember and I’m never going to come back to you. Now, for God’s sake, stop.” Her voice was even and steady. I was so fucking proud of her. She’d come a long way from the woman I’d seen that first night.
He stood there with an odd expression on his face, looking back and forth between us as if confused. “You can’t possibly love him. Not the way you loved me.”
She threw her head back and groaned in frustration before meeting his eye with steely anger. “Who I date, or fuck,”—he flinched—“or love, is none of your goddamn concern. Let it go, Derek, or I’ll give up my spot in the magazine just to be rid of you. It’s not worth it if you’re going to continue this shit. If this,” she indicated the restaurant around us, “is all I ever have, I’ll be perfectly content. Now make your choice, either come in here tomorrow as a professional or don’t come back at all.” She walked over to get her coat from the hook and glanced back at me, still standing speechless by the table with her ex, who was equally stunned.
My girl just laid down the damn law.
“You ready, babe?” She asked me idly, not using the pet name for effect this time. She just wanted to go home.
He dropped his head and started gathering his things, a dejected look on his face. But I still saw something there that made me think he hadn’t heard her, she hadn’t gotten through. “Be there in a minute.” I tossed her my keys. “Wait for me in the car?” Not a command, a request.
She eyed me for a moment and glanced at the back of her ex’s head. “Fine but you have five minutes before I take your car for a joy ride. I’ve been dying to see what she can do.” She tossed me her keys and told me to lock up on my way out, disappearing through the door in a swirl of blonde curls.
When she was gone, I stood with my hands in my pockets and watched as Derek finished loading his things into his briefcase. He kept his head down, not brave enough to antagonize me without an audience. “Just say whatever it is you want to say so I can get out of here.” She’d hurt his pride and he wanted to run off to lick his wounds.
He’d be getting no sympathy from me.
“Why now?”
He shrugged, still not meeting my eye. “Ten years of kicking myself for being stupid. Not wanting to spend the next ten years that way.”
“Because you still love her or because you feel guilty for abandoning her?”
His head jerked up and he narrowed his eyes. “I was nineteen. I made a mistake.”
“Oh, boo-fucking-hoo. She was nineteen, too. And raped.” He flinched as if I’d struck him. “And pregnant. And terrified. And in love with a moron who called her a cheater and a liar then left her to fend for herself when she went to him for support.”
“Shit. She really told you all that?” He ran a hand over his reddish-brown hair, looking sick.
I nodded, fighting the impulse to bash his fucking face in. How dare he make excuses? “She really told me all that. Want to know what else she told me? How she fell in love with that innocent little baby long before she was ever born, and how happy she was, watching her grow. How even though it was just the two of them, they were a family.”
He was already shaking his head, not wanting to hear what came next but I didn’t give a shit.
“Want to hear how she had to sit beside a hospital bed every night reading fairytale stories to her daughter, knowing she wouldn’t live long enough to find her own happily-ever-after? Or how about I tell you that she cries in her sleep sometimes and spends every Sunday talking to a headstone with her child’s name on it?”
“Stop, please.” He looked like he might cry. Good. I was on the verge myself; the only thing keeping the tears in check was the rage that I felt whenever I looked at him.
“No, Derek, you stop. She’s not the girl you remember. She can never be that girl again and you forcing her to deal with your advances is adding stress that she doesn’t fucking need. Whatever you used to be to each other, you’re not anymore. You killed the love she had for you when you turned your back on her. She’s not going to take you back. In her mind, it would be a betrayal of her daughter’s memory. Taking you back would be like saying she regrets everything that came after your break-up. Saying she wants to forget it all and embrace the future she’d been plannin
g before Amelia.”
“And she can’t do that, can she?” He sounded properly chastised but still hopeful. I really wanted to punch him for still hoping.
“No, she can’t. She won’t. Not ever.”
He pulled his briefcase strap onto his shoulder, a contemplative look on his face. For once, that air of arrogance was gone. “I know you must think I’m a total piece of shit. I’d probably think the same thing in your shoes, but I never wanted to leave her. I let my pride get in the way; let my idiot friends convince me that she was making it up to cover up a mistake. I regretted it the second I left her there but I just couldn’t find a way to take it all back.”
“Can I be honest here?” I asked, not wanting to let him off the hook.
He gave me a wry look. “As opposed to the sugarcoating you’ve been doing up until now?”
Touché. “I don’t think you actually love her.” He started to protest and I cut him off. “Wait, let me finish.” He snapped his mouth shut but glared at me, miserable. “I think you’re sick of living with the guilt, like you said. I think it is killing you that you left her like that and you want to absolve yourself by winning her back. If she took you back, that would mean she’s forgiven you.”
He shook his head, denying what was obviously a direct hit. “You’re wrong. I would never use her like that to clear my conscience.”
“Yeah. And I bet you said you would never leave her in the first place. Regardless, you need to find a way to let this shit go without hurting her.” I stepped in close and held his eye. “Because, unlike you, I have her back. And I won’t hesitate to fuck you up.”
“I don’t doubt you’d try.” His cocky streak made an appearance. “But I have no intention of ever hurting her again and that has nothing to do with you or your threats. It’s because, despite your assessment of my motives, I do love her.”
“Yeah, I bet. Look what your love got her last time.” I snarled, dying to wipe that smug look off his face.
