‘You still want me, but you don’t love me,’ Talia was hurling at him. ‘You told me that you never could.’
‘That isn’t who I am,’ he said curtly.
‘Why not, though?’ she cried. ‘Because your mother died and your father is a bit cold?’
‘You’re venturing onto thin ice, Talia. I suggest that you think carefully about voicing next whatever is in your head.’
‘That’s always the problem, though, isn’t it?’ she challenged. ‘Any time things get too personal, you back away.’
‘I have never backed away from anything.’ He narrowed his eyes, but it hadn’t escaped her that he’d hesitated for a split second.
Sucking in a deep breath, she pressed on.
‘That’s exactly what you do, Liam. Any time we ever veered towards the personal, you found a way to change the conversation.’
‘I beg to differ.’ His tone was easy, almost scornfully amused. ‘You told me all about your parents and your two younger brothers; even how close you are to your grandmother. And, equally, I told you about mine,’ he countered before he’d even thought about it.
He only realised he’d said something out of keeping when Talia froze, blinking at him.
‘Your grandmother?’ she asked. He didn’t elaborate, so she pressed on. ‘You never once even mentioned her, let alone told me anything about her.’
Had he not? He was sure he had. He’d thought about it, from time to time, anyway. The only other person to have ever shown him affection, aside from Talia. In some respects, his fiery St Victorian woman had resembled his spirited grandmother. Gloria by name, and by character. The only person who had ever stood up to his father and stood up for Liam himself against her only son’s hatred of his own child.
But that had been before she, too, had died. Abandoning him once again to a lonely life with the old man.
‘I told you about her when I showed you that box I had.’
She tilted her head to one side.
‘You showed me a box which you told me contained photos of your mother that you never looked at. But you never once mentioned your grandmother, Liam.’
Had he really never mentioned her to Talia? Even once? He didn’t realise that he’d said the words aloud, until Talia responded.
‘No. You didn’t. You never really told me anything. Did you never ask yourself why I left, Liam? Did you never wonder about anything?’
‘I wondered,’ he stated simply. ‘But if you’d wanted to tell me, you would have.’
‘I did want to tell you. I didn’t feel I could. You actively avoided conversation about your own family. I know because I tried—several times. You shut me out, Liam. You always shut me out.’
‘I barely knew you,’ he countered. ‘Was I to tell you my entire life story?’
He might have known she wouldn’t be so easily put off.
‘Have you ever told it to anyone? Any part of it?’
Liam didn’t answer. He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened in the last few moments. His head was swimming and he didn’t even know where to start with untangling the knot of conflicting thoughts.
How had this unwanted conversation even begun? If he could go back and stop it, he would. As it was, he needed to find a way to change it. Now.
‘This is a pointless conversation.’ He barely recognised his own clipped tone. ‘It isn’t going to get us anywhere.’
‘No, you just won’t allow it happen.’ There was a sadness in her voice that clawed at him.
He thrust it aside.
‘I came here for my patient, and for the trial,’ he managed coldly.
For a moment he thought she was going to argue something more, but then she lifted her shoulders in the briefest of shrugs.