Page 94 of The Ones We Fight For

“Or, if she hasn’t made any mistakes, if she did mess up, do you think that she wouldn't be worthy of your love?”

The question sunk into Walker’s chest, and he swallowed hard.

“No,” Walker murmured. “I would love her regardless.” The fact that Talia was incapable of decorating a cake and that she was a pushover when it came to car salesmen only made him love her more.

“Good.” Dr. Thomlinson tapped his pen against his clipboard,set it on his desk, and leaned forward to rest his hands on his thighs. “I think you should consider that people might love you regardless of your faults, too, and it’s unfair of you to act as though everyone will treat you the way your father did unless you’re perfect. No one on Earth is flawless. I have proven to you that I am not. Unfortunately, if you hold yourself to this unattainable standard, you will find yourself swimming up river, wondering when you can stop to take a breath.”

It was possible in all the times Walker had the opportunity to ask Talia if she felt the same way that he had avoided the question. Between knowing that she was way out of his league, being so wrapped up in grief, and fulfilling his parental duties, he had been focused on ways to win her over. He had never once considered that she might already like him back, and for more than just sex. He kept thinking that when he fixed himself, sex would be the only thing she wanted from him, and he was just hoping that the physical attraction would be enough to keep her around.

“Okay,” Walker sighed. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Maybe?” Dr. Thomlinson grinned.

Walker let out a puff of indignant laughter through his nose. “Someone’s a little cocky today.”

“I’m just matching your energy. How am I doing?”

“It’s working, but you don’t have to call me ‘Mr. Hartrick.’ That feels weird. Mr. Hartrick was my brother. Walker’s fine.”

“Alright, then, we’re getting somewhere, Walker!” Dr. Thomlinson clicked his pen twice, reached for his clipboard, and scribbled something.

Walker slid out to the edge of his chair. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, why the hell not?” Dr. Thomlinson gave a short jerk of his shoulders and gestured for Walker to continue.

“It’s wrong for me to want her.”

Dr. Thomlinson stared at Walker like he was waiting for something further. “Is there a question in there somewhere?”

Walker’s response was a garbled mess. “I-I mean, right? It’s wrong, right? She’s my brother’s murderer’s daughter, and I only met her because Cole and Paisley are dead.”

“So what?” Dr. Thomlinson challenged.

Irritation bunched Walker’s eyebrows together. It was frustrating that no one seemed to get it. “I don’t want that!” Walker groaned. “I don’t want to be in love with someone who I only met because the worst thing ever happened to me. I feel like I’m betraying Cole and Paisley by being happy with Talia. By loving her. I even feel guilty for not feeling guilty when I don’t! And I feel guilty that she makes me feel better about losing my family. Nothing should make me feel better about losing them, especially not someone who I only met because they died!”

Dr. Thomlinson tapped his pen to his lips. “So, let’s say, forargument’s sake, you only met Talia because your brother and sister-in-law died. Now, logic says that her father was on the fast-track to death regardless of the accident, so Talia would have inherited the grocery store eventually, but even if that was not the case, every single facet of our lives is interwoven by cause and effect. You and your brother growing up the way you did influenced your brother to go after Paisley as a wife. Sitting here with me right now will influence your future decisions and hopefully help you regulate your anxiety disorder, an anxiety disorder you had prior to the accident. So you could even say the accident led you to get help, which is a positive thing. Holding onto guilt about gaining something that’s good for you doesn’t help you heal.”

“That’s not quite the same,” Walker argued.

“What you are experiencing, Walker, is a roundabout version of survivor’s guilt. It’s intrinsically ingrained in you to put your brother on a pedestal because he was your hero. The mere fact that you are alive and well while he and Paisley aren’t bothers you. Gaining anything from their death, even miniscule things, bothers you.”

The words caught in Walker’s throat as he said, “I wish it was me that died.”

“But it wasn’t.” Dr. Thomlinson leaned forward, his eyes softening. “And you can’t change that. What you can do is live for them. What would Cole and Paisley say if they were around? What would Cole tell you to do about Talia?”

A grin broke out on Walker’s face, and he let out a breathy laugh, wiping under his watering eyes. “He’d tell me to stop being an idiot and go get the girl. Then Paisley would throw a party on my behalf for finally wanting to settle down.”

Dr. Thomlinson bobbed his head, returning the smile. “You’ve said before that you thought Cole and Paisley sent Talia to help you with their kids. What if it wasn’t just for their kids, but for you as well? Assuming that Talia wants to move forward with you, too, make your brother and sister-in-law happy, Walker. Live. Be in love like they were. Love their kids like they did: imperfectly, but in abundance. The only way you can fail is if you don’t try. And being here, right now, in this office is trying. It’s not weak. It’s placing your own health as a priority so you can continue to live, laugh, and—”

“Please don’t say ‘love,’” Walker groaned.

Dr. Thomlinson raised a finger. “Thrive in your romantic exploits.”

“That’s literally the same thing as love.”

“Listen, I don’t want to hang up a cliche sign in my office that broadcasts it, but the saying is sort of all-encompassing.” Dr. Thomlinson set his clipboard to the side once again and flashed his slightly crooked teeth as he pointed to the certificate framed on the wall. “Years of schooling and all this can be summed up by a series of cliche phrases. Carpe diem, Mr. Hartrick,” he joked.

“Walker.”

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