Talon:Doc said you were released yesterday.
She smiled at the text,and for the first time in days, the expression felt genuine rather than forced. It was so nice yet hard to have him to talk to. Nice because he knew what had happened and hard for the exact same reason. He'd seen her at her absolute worst. She was broken, terrified, and barely human. And yet here he was, checking on her like she mattered. She closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. She hoped she would never have to tell her father what had actually happened.God, how would I even begin that conversation? 'Oh, by the way, Dad, remember that job you gave me at the company? Well, I screwed up.'She typed a response.
Riley:Hi. Yes, I'm home now. Well, Dad's house. Thank you for asking.
Was that too formal?She stared at the screen, second-guessing every word. They were friends, but not really. Acquaintances, basically, but he was nice, and he cared, which was something she’d found herself clinging to like a lifeline in an ocean of indifference. When was the last time someone had checked on her just because they wanted to know she was okay? Not because it was their job, not because they were paid to care, but just … because.
Talon:Good. You have my number if you need anything. I mean that.
She smiled at his words,and something tight in her chest loosened just a fraction.He means that.She could tell from the way he'd added those three words—"I mean that"—like he knew she might doubt it, might think it was just politeness. She'd thought about texting him and telling him a nurse had arrived to fly home with her, but … she felt awkward and kind of needy doing that.What would I say? 'Thanks for saving my life. Here's my travel itinerary’?
Thanking him and letting him off the hook would probably be the kindest thing she could do.He's done enough. More than enough. He doesn’t need to be saddled with my recovery, too.Lord knew she had more than enough to work on before she'd feel strong enough to move out on her own. Just the thought of leaving the guarded grounds of her father's Hampton's estate terrified her.Pathetic.She'd traveled to some of the most dangerous places in the world for work, and now, she was afraid to leave her childhood bedroom.Thank goodness the nurse gave her medication to knock her out for the transport home. She didn't think she would have handled the transition well.
Riley:I know. Thank you for everything.
Everything.Such a small word for something so monumental. He’d given her back her life. How do you thank someone for that?
Riley tookher meals in her room and didn't venture out unless she needed to go to the library to meet with her therapist. The woman was calm and professional, and they did seem to mesh. After the first meeting, they'd agreed on a plan and a way forward, which felt like a momentous step. Finally, someone who didn't look at her with pity or awkward discomfort.They'd talk three times a week and work on the trauma the incident left behind. The woman assured her she wasn't sharing information with her father, even though he was paying the bill.Of course, he’s paying. That's what he does. He writes checks to fix problems he doesn’t want to deal with personally.That was a topic the therapist wanted to investigate further, too. Riley didn't. End of story.
She'd just finished a session and was walking back to her room when her phone vibrated. She smiled as she read the text and realized it was the first time she'd smiled since leaving the therapist's office.
Talon:Currently in an airport that serves beer at 0600. Thought you should know this exists.
Her smile widenedinto something that actually reached her eyes.What kind of person texts random observations to someone they barely know?But somehow, it didn't feel random. It felt like he was sharing a small piece of his world with her, letting her glimpse life beyond these suffocating walls. She tapped in a question.
Riley:Where are you?
That isn’t too invasive,is it?The old Riley would never have questioned herself. The old Riley had been confident, decisive.But the old Riley hadn't been rescued from hell by a guardian angel with a scowl. He opened the door. Right?
Talon:Frankfurt. Everything here is efficient and slightly terrifying.
Efficiency wasn't terrifying.She'd spent most of her adult life ensuring companies worked in an efficient manner while honoring governmental regulations.She’d found comfort in that—or she had. Before. When order and control meant safety. Again, something he didn't need to know. She answered him.
Riley:Sounds like Germany. Are you working?
What wouldGuardian be doing in Germany?Maybe he was on vacation or on break. She wasn't sure what his work schedule looked like. Did people like Talon even take vacations? Or were they always on call, always ready to save the next person who got in over their head? Then again, it wasn't her place to ask, was it? Odd that she was tiptoeing around how to respond to him.But the bottom line was she wanted to keep these little moments in her life. These tiny windows into normalcy, into a world where people shared mundane observations and asked casual questions. They were private and a relief from the crap going on in her life at the moment.
Talon:Heading Stateside, actually. How's physical therapy going?
Her heart jumped a bit,and she pressed her palm against her chest as if she could calm it down.Should I … No, I can’t invite him here. Not yet.What would she say?'Hey, want to visit my father's mausoleum of a house where I hide in my pink bedroom like a scared child?' The PT?She scrunched her nose at that. Physical therapy hurt like a bitch, but it was nothing compared to the sessions with her therapist. Her father paid the PT team to come to her, too.Of course, he did. Can't have his damaged daughter venturing out into the world where people might see me and ask uncomfortable questions.She rolled her eyes. He didn't need to know that. So, she answered the question.
Riley:Painful but good. Doctor says I'm healing well.
Talon:That's what I like to hear.
She read it again,and something warm unfurled in her chest. He liked hearing that she was healing. Not because it meant his job was done, not because it meant one less thing to worry about, but because he cared. When was the last time someone had been genuinely pleased about her progress? Her father asked for updates like he was receiving reports from a board meeting. Her therapist was paid to care. But Talon … Talon chose to care.
Riley walkedalong the corridors of her father's house. The enormity of the house seemed to swamp her. Funny how a place could feel both too big and too small at the same time. The cook and the maid were both off today. Sundays made for long, lonely days with no one to talk to. Just her and the ghosts of all the conversations she'd never had with her father, all the dinners that had been eaten alone or in silence.
She flexed her hands, trying to shake off the vibrating pain of her nerve damage. The constant ache was dull on good days and almost unbearable on bad ones. Today was bad. Today, even her body was betraying her, reminding her of what had beentaken from her.She sat down in the formal living room and stared at her phone. The formal living room had never seen anything formal or been lived in. Just another pretty space in a pretty house that felt more like a museum than a home.
She bit her lip and glanced up to gaze through the huge picture window. He'd always initiated the texts.Can I … Yeah, why not?What was the worst thing that could happen? He wouldn't answer? She'd survived worse than being ignored.
Riley:Random question – do you ever get tired of hotel rooms?
Perfect.Casual. Not needy. Just a random question between … what were they exactly?
Talon:Every single one. Why?
