Page 38 of The Birthday Girl
“Not steering,” he corrected gently. “Just following where you go.”
Tahlia let her gaze drift to the window, where sunlight stretched across the cracked parking lot. Her lips parted before she could stop herself. “There’s a freedom in knowing you’ve already lost certain things. It makes you reckless in a way.Like you can play with fire because the heat doesn’t scare you anymore.”
“That sounds heavy for someone who says things aren’t weighing on her.”
Tahlia’s eyes snapped back to him, the smirk sliding into place again. “And there you go—ruining my breakfast.”
He smiled faintly and reached for his coffee. “You brought it up, not me.”
The waitress returned with his order, sliding the plate of rye toast between them. The smell of butter and strawberry jam cut through the air, breaking whatever tension had settled at the table.
Tahlia picked up her fork and knife, dragging them across her plate with a little more force than necessary. “Enjoy your toast, Doctor. I’m going to enjoy my French.”
Dr. Farrell smiled, spreading jam across the bread with careful strokes. “Fair enough. Consider the session officially over.”
“Good,” she said, her tone clipped but not unkind.
She cut into her meal and took a bite, savoring it more than she expected.
For a while, the only sounds were clinking silverware and the soft murmur of voices around them. When she glanced up again, Dr. Farrell was focused on his folder, scribbling in neat lines.
As Tahlia finished her breakfast, she couldn't shake off the lingering feeling of introspection that Dr. Farrell's words had stirred within her. She observed him for a moment, the way his pen moved across the paper with purpose, capturing thoughts and insights.
Setting down her fork, she pushed her plate away and took a deep breath, a sense of calm settling over her. “You know, Doctor, I never expected our conversations to lead me to such revelations about myself.”
Dr. Farrell looked up from his notes, his expression gentle yet probing. “Sometimes, the most unexpected paths lead us to the truths we've been avoiding. It's all part of the process of self-discovery.”
“You’re right about that.” Tahlia looked down at her watch and rose from her seat. “I have to get to work now. Breakfast on me. Have a great day, Dr. Farrell.”
Dr. Farrell gathered his notes, his gaze full of quiet reassurance. “Until next time,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of encouragement.
She nodded, and with a final smile, she left the cafe.
14- Public Relations
Vega’s phone buzzed just after midnight, the screen lighting up with an unfamiliar number. For a moment, he thought about ignoring it. He’d spent the evening staring at photographs of Mercedes’ dead body, and his eyes were too raw for more bad news. However, the persistence of the notification needled him until he thumbed it open.
Danielle had finally sent the messages between her and Mercedes. Vega scrolled slowly, his gut tightening as he read each text.
Mercedes:I found somebody to take the baby shower video off my hands. A couple of others want it too, but I’ll get the real bag from her team. Linking with her crisis manager tomorrow.
Danielle:Get that money, bitch. I told you that if I eat, we all eat. You’re more of a sister than Tahlia has ever been. She should’ve thought about that shit before she hit my baby daddy over the head with a bottle.
Mercedes sent laughing emojis.
Mercedes:I ain’t gon’ lie. I’m not even mad at her. If my man got my sister pregnant, I would’ve done more than that. You better be glad she didn’t hit your ass next.More laughing emojis.
Danielle:She knew who to play with. That bitch knows how I give it up.
Days later, Mercedes sent Danielle another text.
Mercedes:I think I’m being followed. Everywhere I go, I keep seeing the same black SUV.
Danielle:Do you think you’re in danger?
Mercedes:I don’t think so. They never stop or bother me. I’m just letting you know in case something happens to me.
Danielle:Okay, girl. Be safe.
