Page 81 of Forever and Other Lies

“I didn’t mean it either,” she said, blowing out an angry breath, “when I said I was ready for a serious relationship.”

His brow creased. “You’re breaking up with me?”

“Yep.”

“Over that drug addict?”

Her eyes squeezed shut as she sucked in a deep breath. “Talia. Her name is Talia, not ‘Drug Addict.’ And no, she’s not the reason I’m breaking up with you.”

His eyes widened. “Then it’s over Greta? You think I had something to do with her death?”

“No, I don’t think that.” She softened her tone. She didn’t believe he was capable of something so heinous.

The girls at ‘Bagpipe-Palooza’ were right. Lance wasn’t the man for her. This realization had nothing to do with Derek showing up the other evening, all protective and sexy and stupid and annoying and smelling so damn good. He was wrong in so many ways. He’d been wrong about Lance. And wrong for her.

She’d been wrong to think she could save Talia. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

This was the wrong time to start a relationship. It was wrong for Lance with everything going on in his life. It was also wrong for her. She wasn’t ready. She thought she had been. But she’d been wrong.

It felt contrived to force this relationship because she wanted to settle down, and Lance seemed like the most suitable candidate. It reminded her of her parents’ marriage, and she had no intention of duplicating that. Would it be so terrible to remain single? Sure, she envied Nick and Piper’s marriage. She was in awe of Leighton and Tommy’s rekindled love. However, Talia’s death reminded her why she didn’t let people in.

She’d let her guard down, feeling a connection with Talia. They both had mothers who’d disappointed them—that was their common tie. And it tore her apart to realize that, like their mothers, Jayna had failed Talia too. She needed to remain alone. That was for the best.

On her way home, she found herself pulling into Patty’s Pub and sitting at the bar. The tequila burned all the way down, yet it did nothing to numb her pain. Tears streamed down her cheeks—so unfamiliar. She never cried.

The bar stool beside her scraped as it was pulled back.

“If it isn’t my ex-fake fiancé.”

“Shut up, Derek. I’m not in the mood.”

“You’re regretting fake breaking up with me?”

She sniffled and brushed away the tears that she never cried.

“Oh baby, please don’t cry over me.”

“Get over yourself, Brennan. These tears are not over you!”

“Don’t tell me Lance Romance dumped you.”

“No, I dumped him,” she sniffled loudly and called out to the bartender. “Can I have another tequila, please?”

“So, you’re crying over dumping the paramedic?”

“No! It’s Talia. The woman I’ve been helping. She overdosed. She’s gone.”

Strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. Derek’s scent enveloped her, and she wanted to stay in that embrace forever.

Forever.

She didn’t believe in forever, or being rescued, or comforted. However, for just a moment, she’d allow it. She let herself depend on someone else. Just for a moment. Not forever.

He pulled her tighter, and she sank deeper. It felt so wonderful to be held.

“I’m so sorry, Jayna,” his voice was rough, the words of comfort as unfamiliar for him to speak as they were for her to receive.

They were two lone wolves. He didn’t look to others for comfort and neither did she. And yet he was giving it, and she was accepting it.

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