Page 20 of The Ones We Fight For

“The only nice thing he ever did for me was leave me his grocery store, which I should really be thanking the manager, Amala, for, considering the only reason that place turned a profit is because she was running it while he drank his liver into oblivion. So, please, whatever grudge you have against me, I can say without a shadow of a doubt that I don’t deserve it. I have nothing and no one anymore. That is why I left my job to be here. So, spare me your niceties. I’ve got enough on my plate without dealing with you pretending to be nice all of a sudden. You don’t owe me anything. I don’t owe you anything, unless you want the store. I guess you have more of a right to it than I do, and—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Walker interrupted, setting his drink down and holding up both hands in defense. “I don’t want your store, and I’m not holding anything against you.” Talia cocked her head, calling his bluff. Walker closed his eyes, feeling like an asshole, and pointed to the couch beside him in defeat. “Please, just sit down.”

When he opened his eyes again, he was half-expecting her to be gone, but found her to be sitting back in her original seat, giving him the benefit of the doubt he hadn’t spared her.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry,” she regurgitated, as if the words were meaningless.

“Okay, I’m really sorry?” he offered, his voice going up an octave. “I… was holding a grudge against you, but not for anything you did. Except for maybe attempting to kill me on my bike, but—”

“I told you the—”

“The brakes. Yeah, I know. I’m just a little more aware of my life recently. I sold the bike. I shouldn’t have been driving that death trap anymore, anyway. I can’t be even close to reckless with my life, or the kids… they could end up with no one, and I can’t do that to them. You didn’t do anything. All you’ve done is help me at every turn, and my attitude toward you has been less than appropriate. I apologize. I get bitter when I think about your father, and seeing you just… brings that to the forefront of my mind.

“My brother was the single most important person in my life, and I lost him. Sometimes I think it’s all a dream and Cole and Paisley are just going to walk through their front door. You remind me that that will never happen. No one is ever going to care about me the way they did. That, and…” Walker shook his head in frustration, not wanting to admit the next part to Talia, but feeling compelled nonetheless. “You’re better at being a parent than I am, and you don’t even know the kids. I should be able to… never mind, this is stupid. It’s not your job to make me feel better about being an inadequate guardian. And you know what? I lied again. I hate chai.”

Walker stood abruptly, avoiding eye contact. He figured Talia was wearing an expression of hatred or victory, and he didn’t need to see either. He had completely spiraled out of control with his confessions. Talia didn’t need his entire life story, just a quick apology and a “thank you for your assistance.”

Marching toward the door in embarrassment, Walker tossed the half-full cup of chai into the trash and pushed his way out to the parking lot. He was a glass house that Talia had seen right through or, rather, obliterated with dynamite. He stomped over to his car, frantically hitting the unlock button on the keyfob as panic rose inside him. How had Talia been able to completely expose him in under a few minutes? Was this who he was reduced to now? Someone who had mental breakdowns in his brother’s bedroom and poured his heart out to complete strangers?

“Walker, wait!”

An arm latched onto the crook of his elbow, and he froze. Walker turned slowly to look at Talia, fearing that whatever she had to say would undoubtedly cut him to the quick or make him feel stripped down to his bare bones. “I need… look, I need a friend and clearly, you do, too.”

Whatever he was expecting, it hadn’t been that. Staring back at Talia, mouth parted but unable to form words, Walker just stood there, probably affirming that there was absolutely no reason she should want to be his friend. He couldn’t even spit out a “yes,” “no,” or “maybe” in response.

“Okay, maybe that’s not at all what you’re looking for? At least take your drink back. The barista clearly wants you to call her.” Talia let out a strained laugh and held out the to-go cup.

“Yes.” Walker bobbed his head repeatedly, unable to control himself.

“Right, well, here.” She shook the cup a little.

“No,” he chuckled, the sound coming out more like a nervous cackle mixed with air. “I mean, yes, I would like to be your friend, and no, I don’t want the coffee back. I don’t have time for a love life. Also, you’ve now put your mouth on it too many times, and I think that would put me at a higher risk of getting your flesh-eating bacteria.” Not a second later, there was a sharp pain on Walker’s arm where Talia had socked him, surprisingly hard for someone so small. “Ow!”

“You should know if we’re going to be friends that I fight back.” Talia grinned.

“You should know my one rule for our friendship is that you can’t fall in love with me,” Walker shot back with a cocky lift of his chin.

“Oh, trust me, you would have to do a hell of a lot more than just look pretty for me to fall in love with you,” Talia retorted.

“So, you think I look pretty?” He gave her a lopsided smirk.

“Do you want me to hit you again?” Talia raised her fist, and Walker took a large step back.

“Not particularly, no.”

“All right, then, it’s settled. We are officially friends.” Talia stuck out her hand like it was a full-fledged business agreement.

“Do people usually shake on shit like this?” Walker wondered, already taking her hand and giving it a firm jerk.

“We do.”

She was stubborn as hell. He liked it.

“So, can I ask a favor?” Walker asked, dropping Talia’s hand before he had the urge to linger in the handhold.

“Already? You move quick.”

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