Page 64 of The Ones We Fight For

“I’m so out of control when I’m around her and I never once felt that way with you. I thought I needed calm, but… I was wrong. And,” he swallowed, “I didn’t know at the time that I was lying, but I think I lied to you about why we broke up.”

“You knew something was missing.” Talia nodded, already knowing where he was headed.

“We were just playing a part. The part that everyone else wanted us to play.”

“And then the part we were playing splintered,” Talia finished for him. “For what it’s worth, we were really good at our roles.”

“We were,” Clifford agreed, with a touch of sadness.

“You were always good to me, Cee. It wasn’t either of our faults that our relationship ended. But now that I know what real love feels like, beyond the friendship kind of love we had, I’m not so sad anymore.”

“Really? Because you look miserable.”

“Right, well, it’s been a long night. And I am sad, but knowing that that kind of love exists will have to be enough for me. I’m happy for you, truly.” Talia broke eye contact when she could feel the start of tears pricking at her eyes.

“He’ll come around,” Cliff murmured, his soft hand brushing her arm. She jerked her head back to look at him. “I only caught the back half of the conversation, but that dude is desperately in love with you.”

“He didn’t say that, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard you use the word ‘dude’ before.” Talia let out a short laugh.

“Mary also got me to eat spicy food.” Clifford shrugged. “And I didn’t need to hear him say it considering the whole ‘get your hands off my girl’ thing and how destroyed he looked when he left. I imagine it’s how I looked when Mary told me that I could either decide to love her fully or she was breaking up with me.”

“I think I like Mary. She sounds like a badass.” Talia grinned.

“You would love her. She’s terrifying. Assuming that you aren’t lying about the whole battered face thing, Walker seems like a good person, too.”

“I got into a fight with a car door and lost. Promise.”

“I’m not going to apologize for punching him, though. He ruined our date, and letting off some steam felt really good. Like, maybe I should get a membership to a boxing club, good.”

“That wasn’t a date, and where was this Clifford when I was around?”

“Hidden under piles of self-doubt and parental obligation. And it was definitely a date, Tal. We went mini golfing. Do you ever watch movies, or do you still just sneak-read sex books?”

“I—were you actually trying to feel me up?” Talia’s eyes widened.

“No! You really suck at golfing. I was just trying to help you.” Clifford crossed his arms over his chest, clearly offended by the insinuation.

“Fine, then you and Walker are both idiots, and I’m the only sane one.” Talia lifted her chin with pride, and Clifford shook his head, chuckling.

They sat quietly for a moment before he set a gentle hand on her shoulder, giving her a soft, appreciative smile. That was their relationship in a nutshell: appreciative, respectful, and easy. Talia could have married Clifford and loved him every day until they died, never knowing what she was missing. He was a good person, kind, committed, and hard-working, but he didn’t want to make her lose herself in torrid touch or schedule her entire life around five unruly children. He didn’t make her a better person. Clifford belonged to Mary. And she, no matter whether she would get to love him or not, belonged to Walker.

“Friends?” Clifford asked, hand still warming her shoulder.

“Friends,” Talia agreed. Cliff kissed her cheek and stood up from the couch, looking much more at ease. That made one of them. “Invite me to your wedding?” She called after him as he walked toward the front door.

“If you invite me to yours.”

Talia lifted her shoulders, a failed attempt at indifference. “If I ever have one, you’re first on the guest list.”

Chapter 24

Talia

As expected, Talia spent the entire night tossing and turning in her empty bed, thinking of Walker. Despite the resolution of one of her major problems with Clifford hopping on a red-eye flight back to New York, she was still stuck. The closure offered her no relief because after months spent with Walker, she no longer needed it. She had run from rejection in New York just to run smack-dab into even more, and more painful, rejection.

Talia couldn’t just tell her father to go to hell. Her romantic problems with Walker weren’t as simple as hopping on a flight and admitting she loved someone like Clifford was doing at that very moment. There was no snapping of her fingers and boom, presto, feud evaporated. The only thing that would resolve the tension rested on her capability to shove her feelings so far into oblivion that she could be content with friendship alone. Having Walker at all was better than not having all of him.

Lydia’s was dead silent when Talia arrived. It was pleasant, considering she already had a barrage of overcomplicated thoughts crowding her brain. The three cups of coffee she drank that morning from her own machine at home—which was nowhere near as good as Roaster’s Republic—ramped up the chaos in her head. She should have ignored her body’s demands for caffeine, but the exhaustion level she had reached was starting to edge into self-deprecation again. It would become an extremely unhealthy pattern if she allowed her degrading thoughts to consume her the way they did after her diagnosis.

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