Flawlessly Broken: (Broken Series Book 2) (43 page)

I ran a hand over my hair, more frustrated than ever. “You mean after all these weeks the first thing you do is try to justify yourself to me? No apology, no remorse. Just ‘I had a good reason’?” I feigned laughter. “Unbelievable.”

“Do you think this has been easy for me? Do you honestly believe I haven’t been hurting too?” Her voice was stronger now, angry and affronted. “You’re so quick to judge but not everyone is as dialed-in as you. Not everyone is as certain of themselves, or as fucking infallible as the great Spencer Erickson. You’ve known who you are and where you wanted your life to go for years. Not everyone has that luxury. Sometimes entire futures change in the blink of an eye and you’re left spinning, not knowing where you’re going or how to get there. So you do the best you can, try to do what’s right, and hope for the best.” She tossed her hands up, clearly frustrated.

“You’re wrong. I’m no more certain of myself than anyone else. I used to be, once upon a time. Back before I fell in love with a woman that lied to me, robbed me of the future I wanted, and absolutely devastated me.” I huffed out a breath, watching her. “And no, I don’t mean Ivey. I mean
you.
I wanted a future with you and you threw that possibility—and me—away without even giving me the chance to fight for it. You took it all away without even consulting me, dammit!”

I ran both hands through my hair, not giving a damn that it would be sticking up everywhere. I was a breath away from pulling it all out. She was so fucking frustrating. I turned back to her, leaning down and dropping my voice. “I have been so lost, so cut off from everyone and everything that I couldn’t even find the courage to talk to my best friends about what was going on. I didn’t want them to hate you for breaking my fucking heart because, as much as I have a right to hate you, I don’t.” I held her gaze, watching tears well in her eyes as I spoke. “The only peace I had, the only person I felt I could talk to about this, was Amelia. I sat there on the grass at her grave and bared my soul to her, because she was the only one I knew of who could have possibly loved you as much as I do.”

Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she nodded, looking into my eyes—really looking—for the first time. “I know. The groundskeeper mentioned seeing you there.”

Damn. I hadn’t realized anyone had seen me.

No matter. I’d done what I needed to do to find peace and it had actually worked. Going there had given me the inspiration I’d needed, it had given me hope.

Shrugging off her announcement, I stepped back and continued watching her. “What do you think she would have wanted for you?”

She looked away, giving her head a soft shake as if she didn’t intend to answer.

Fine, be stubborn.

I turned, stepping beside her so that we both faced the cleared lot that had once held Clay’s mom’s dream house, before it had burned to the ground and nearly taken Ali with it. I pointed to the spot where it used to stand, waiting for Talia to shift her attention to it. “When you look at that spot, what do you see?”

She frowned and looked over at me, uncertainty in her eyes.

“Do you see the hollowed out house, blackened by smoke and fire? Do you find yourself picturing the blaze, little waves of fear pulling at you as you remember that Ali nearly died here?”

“Why are you asking me this?” She shuddered as she glared at me, avoiding looking at the unassuming chunk of land.

“Look at it again,” I told her.

She searched my face for a moment before complying with a huff of annoyance. “What am I supposed to be seeing now?” She groused.

“Hope. Possibility. Rebirth,” I said quietly. “What you’re looking at is a clean slate, a new beginning. Clay and Ali can make it whatever they want. They can build a mansion or a shack, have ten bedrooms or one. Anything is possible, if they want it bad enough to make it happen. They’ll never forget what it once was, the things that happened here in this place, but they aren’t going to use it as an excuse to turn their backs on the amazing possibilities available to them.”

She stepped forward and turned to face me, standing just close enough to touch if I was so inclined. Her mouth opened to speak but she was cut off by the sound of Ali calling her name.

Dammit.

We turned to find Ali, Clay, and company emerging from the lake path, all smiles and soft chatter.

I’d actually forgotten anyone else was here. Such was my focus when I was with Talia. Nothing else existed.

The entire group was headed our way so I looked quickly over at Talia and whispered, “We’re not done. Stay and talk to me. I’ll drive you to Teach’s afterward.”

She hesitated only a moment before nodding. “Okay.”

Clay reached us first and immediately picked Talia up and spun her around. As she giggled like a schoolgirl, as he announced to the group, “I’ve finally got a sister. How cool is that?”

The bride and I stood close together, laughing along with them. Ali leaned in close to my side and said, “And I have a couple of amazing brothers now, too. I’m a lucky girl.” She bumped my shoulder—well bicep, she wasn’t tall enough to reach my shoulder—and whispered, “I hope we didn’t interrupt anything. Wouldn’t want to give you two another reason to draw this out. Make up and get it over with already, dammit.”

I had to smile at her gall. “You’re gonna be one of those bossy sisters, aren’t you? I already have one of those, you know.”

“Well, apparently she isn’t doing it right or you and Talia would have patched things up by now. Lucky for you, I’m not so lax in my bossy sister duties.” She smirked, turning to place a soft kiss on my cheek. “I’m not giving up on the two of you, and you shouldn’t either.”

I said nothing, just giving her a half-smile as I watched Talia laughing with Clay.

A few minutes later, everyone was heading out after being reassured multiple times that I would get Talia to Teach’s posthaste.

I could tell by the look Gran gave me that she would be giving me an earful the next chance she got, but she had the good grace not to start with the third degree just yet.

There’s a conversation I’m sure to enjoy. Like a root canal.

Once everyone was gone, Talia motioned toward my truck and moved around to drop the tailgate. I reached inside the toolbox and grabbed a towel, hastily wiping it off so she didn’t ruin her dress. She gave me an appreciative smile before climbing up to sit on it, her legs swinging idly as she waited for me to do the same.

When we were both seated, she pulled in a big breath, seeming to enjoy the warm mountain air as she spoke. “You’re not the first one to give me the ‘move on’ speech, you know. Sorry to disappoint you after such a clever approach, but my parents have it down to a science.” She blew out slowly and began gathering her hair, tiring of it blowing in her face. She rolled it into a heavy bun at the back of her head and tucked in the ends, doing some magic that kept it in place. “My mom tries to act like nothing happened. She doesn’t even speak of Amelia anymore. My dad’s worse. It’s like he isn’t sure how to be around me at all. The easy conversation I was so used to with him is now strained and aloof. It breaks my heart.”

She turned toward me on the tailgate and tucked one leg under her, leaving the other hanging over the edge as she watched me. “I actually have to take down my pictures of her whenever I know they’re coming to visit. One look at all those photos and my mom would fall to pieces. Then she would ask me why I keep them around, like keeping her photos on display is some sick form of masochism.”

“So, that’s why the walls looked so bare. I thought there were a lot more frames up when I came over to help Ali move,” I admitted, my anger slipping as curiosity took hold. “Have they visited recently?”

She nodded, the bun still holding strong. “A couple weeks before Derek showed up. I hadn’t gotten around to putting the photos back. I’d been considering new frames or maybe something custom that would hold them all in one big display. Regardless of what my mom thinks, I need them.” Her expression became sheepish. “I like to talk to them when I’m in the kitchen cooking or cleaning the apartment. It’s like she’s still there, keeping me company.” She gave me a half-smile, eyes shining with unshed tears.

“There’s nothing wrong with that. If it gives you comfort and isn’t doing you any harm, you shouldn’t be made to feel bad about it.” I fought the urge to reach out and touch her cheek. She looked so lost. I knew how that felt. “There’s nothing wrong with finding constructive ways to deal with your grief. It’s when you do things that harm you in some way that I get upset. Like pushing away the people who love you because you accidentally let your guard down long enough to let them in. It’s like all of a sudden one day you realize you’re happy, which scares the shit out of you, so you push them away. Sound familiar?”

Much to my surprise, she nodded. “I suppose that’s partially true. But it’s not the only reason for what I did.”

She tugged at the edges of her dress, tucking them tightly against her body with nervous fingers, then began idly twirling the thick group of bracelets on her wrist. There was pleading in her eyes as she continued. “I need you to understand that I can’t replace Amelia. I won’t. And I also can’t start a future with you knowing how much you have always wanted to be a father. I won’t cost you that, because as much as I hurt over the loss of my daughter, I wouldn’t trade one second of my time with her for anything in the world. You deserve that feeling, that connection to a child of your own—some little boy or girl with your amazing dark eyes and heart-stopping smile—and I won’t be responsible for robbing you of that. Period.”

The look of determination in her eyes brokered no argument, left me no avenue of approach. I realized then that the conversation was over, at least to her.

I’d taken this as far as I could today, but I wasn’t giving up. Not on her.

Not ever.

I’d use this next week to regroup and then I would try again.

“I suppose there’s nothing left to say then, is there?” I asked stoically, as I hopped down from the tailgate and offered my hand to help her, quietly reveling in the warmth of her silky skin as she slipped her hand into mine and jumped down.

She looked up at me, waiting for me to continue.

“Come on,” I nodded to the truck’s cab. “I’ll drop you off at Teach’s. No need for me to hold you up any longer.”

She didn’t respond, but her face fell slightly, a flash of hurt passing over her features before she could hide it.

I wanted to tell her I wasn’t giving up that easily, but there was no point. Telling her wasn’t going to work. If I wanted to win her over I needed to
show
her and that wouldn’t be happening for another week. Until then, I would bide my time.

And if that meant she had to think I’d given up for the next seven days, so be it.

We drove in absolute silence all the way to Teach and Marilee’s house. Not a single word was spoken.

She hesitated when she moved to open the door and I nearly gave in, but she pulled open the handle and stepped from the truck without a backward glance, closing the door with a soft click.

It probably rang in her ears as a sound of finality… but I knew better.

I backed out of the driveway and stomped on the gas, worried that if I lingered, I would turn back and try again to convince her.

Not yet, Spence. Only seven more days, then you’ll have the rest of your lives.

Hopefully.

Talia

I CAN DO THIS.

I can do this.

I can’t do this.

The wedding party was gathering in the foyer behind the double doors that would soon open, signaling the beginning of the ceremony. I’d studiously avoided Spencer all morning, scurrying into the nearest room any time I heard male voices approaching. I could tell Ali was annoyed with me because of it but she was too busy today to give me hell for being a coward.

And I already knew I was a coward, so there would have been no reason for her to say anything anyway.

I was being ridiculous, a grown woman hiding in the shadows, but it was a matter of self-preservation.

If I had to face him, really face him one-on-one, I was going to lose my shit. I would give in, because my better sense was no match for how much I still adored that frustrating, impetuous jackass. I’d almost given in last week in Denson.

And so much had changed since then that I knew I would never find the strength to stay away from him, so I hid.

Sitting there on a hard folding chair in one of the dressing rooms, I thought about all that had happened since I broke things off. Out of habit, I opened my phone and replayed the voicemail he’d left me the week after Cam left.

His voice was deep and seductive, his tone earnest.

‘I didn’t want to love anyone ever again, Talia, but you gave me no other option. It was always going to happen with us, because I was half in love from the first time I laid eyes on you.’
There had been a cracking sound, as if he were clutching the phone so hard it was about to break. ‘
Do you hear me, Natalia Collette Galiano? I’m so in love with you I can barely fucking breathe, and I’ll never give up on us. I’ll never walk away.’