* * *
Liam waited.
‘All the signs had been there for months...if only I’d chosen to read them. The way her face had been getting more and more pinched. The heaviness around her eyes.’
‘There could have been any number of explanations for that.’ He knew where she was heading and he wished he could spare her the guilt. ‘You can’t torture yourself like that.’
‘I didn’t even take the time to ask her, though. I didn’t even spot it.’
‘Because of me,’ he stated flatly, hearing the accusation that was there, even if she hadn’t voiced it. ‘I’ve ended up causing pain to anyone who might dare to care for me, Talia. Can’t you see that?’
Yet more proof of how he brought darkness and anguish to those around him. His mother, his accursed father, and now even his extraordinary Talia.
‘That’s nonsense,’ she refuted. ‘I didn’t spot it by my own choice. Because I didn’t want to see it, I guess. Maybe because that would have meant I’d have to do something about it, and I was too selfish to return home.’
‘You weren’t selfish,’ he countered immediately. ‘You just didn’t notice it because you trusted your family to tell you something like that, but they kept it from you. And before you get defensive, I’m not criticising them, they only kept it from you because they didn’t want you to worry. They wanted you to enjoy the new life you’d found for yourself in North Carolina.’
‘Is it any wonder, after I’d complained at them so many times that I wanted more for my life than growing up on a small island?’
‘You can’t beat yourself up for that, Talia, it was perfectly natural for you to have wanted to spread your wings.’
She didn’t point out that Liam hadn’t spread his wings, that he’d allowed himself to be fettered by the guilt of causing his mother’s death. She couldn’t have even if she’d wanted to, she was too caught up in her own grief.
‘I made them feel like they weren’t enough. Like she wasn’t enough,’ Talia choked.
‘I would say that you made her feel like she’d raised a bold, confident woman who wanted to see more of the world. But in the end you realised that home was the place you wanted to be. Wasn’t that precisely what you said when you talked about setting something you love free?’
She didn’t answer, she simply drew her knees up to her chest and dropped her chin on them.
‘So why didn’t you simply tell me this, Talia?’
‘I don’t know,’ she lied.
‘I think you do.’
* * *
And despite all her cautions to herself, Talia could feel things beginning to shift inside her. He’d revealed so much to her tonight. Well, perhaps not so much but definitely more than she had ever imagined he would. She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d finally found a way to bypass that ancient armour of his.
So how could she expect him to trust her more if she couldn’t equally trust him?
‘I didn’t tell you because... Oh, there wasn’t just one reason.’ She shook her head uncertainly. ‘I don’t know if I thought I’d be back or not. I think a part of me thought I would. I had no idea how bad it was with Mama so I could never have imagined that she would...that I would lose her.’
‘I was sorry to hear that, you know,’ he told her quietly, and the gently sincerity in his voice was unmistakable.
‘You’ve said that once already.’ She jerked her head in a semblance of a nod but she didn’t add that knowing he could never confide in her, open up to her had been the proverbial final straw.
That every day that he’d kept himself from her had hurt that little more and, despite it all, nothing less than her mama’s illness could have torn her away from him. Even though she’d known it wasn’t the healthiest relationship, she’d been too addicted to him.
Was still addicted, if she was honest. Because it felt as though his admission about his father had been opening the door a crack, and she was already there, metaphorically trying to jam her foot in the minuscule gap before he could slam it shut again.
She couldn’t accept that in a matter of days he would be leaving St Victoria. It seemed too cruel.
As if on cue, the bedside phone rang and Talia didn’t need him to answer to know what it was about. It seemed even fate was conspiring against them.
She remained immobile, wrapped in her sheet on his bed as Liam crossed the room, the white towel still clinging lovingly to his form.
The parallels weren’t ideal.