“I have a gig today that'll help.” I grabbed Poppy's empty bowl and started loading the dishwasher so I didn't have to meet Talia's eyes. “And we've got a show Friday. Between that and what I've got saved, we'll be fine.”
“Soren—”
“We'll be fine, Tal. I promise.”
She didn't look convinced, but she let it drop. “What's the gig?”
“Luca set me up with a family that needs someone to work with their kid. Special needs instruction, communication stuff. Should be a few hours.” I'd gotten my certification for working with special needs children years ago when I'd been bouncing between jobs and desperately needed anything that would pay. The sign language had come later, partly because it was useful for the work and partly because I'd figured if I was going to do this, I should do it right.
“That's good.” Talia grabbed her bag off the counter and slung it over her shoulder. “You're good at that. The kids always like you.”
“Yeah, well, kids have low standards.” I grinned at her, and she rolled her eyes but smiled back.
Micah left first, still scrolling through his phone and muttering about his group project. Poppy followed twenty minutes later, backpack slung over one shoulder and headphones already in. Talia lingered by the door, keys in hand, watching me with that expression that meant she had things to say but wasn't sure how to start.
“What?” I asked, already bracing for whatever she was about to hit me with.
“You seem off.” She said it carefully, not quite an accusation but definitely an observation. “More than usual. Did something happen?”
I could have lied. But this was Talia, and Talia had been through enough of my shit to know when I was deflecting.
“I saw Rook,” I said, and the words came out quieter than I'd meant them to. “A couple nights ago. At the club.”
Her eyes went wide. “Rowan? Your Rowan from high school?”
“He's not my Rowan.” The correction was automatic, even though hearing her say it like that did weird things to my chest. “But yeah. Him. He showed up after our first set, and we talked, and it was fucking awful.”
Talia set her bag down and leaned against the counter, giving me her full attention now. “What happened?”
“He found me somehow. Said he'd been looking for me.” I ran my hand through my hair and tried to figure out how to explain the disaster that had been that conversation. “He asked why I left, and I didn't know what to say.”
“Did you apologize?”
“No.” The admission felt heavy. “I didn't know how to start. What am I supposed to say? Sorry I disappeared without a word because my entire life imploded and I didn't want to dragyou down with me? That doesn't exactly fit into casual bar conversation.”
Talia was quiet for a second, and I could see her processing, trying to figure out what to say that wouldn't make me shut down completely. “Do you want to talk to him again?”
“I don't know.” Another lie, but this one was easier to tell. “He gave me his number and told me to use it or don't. So now I'm just sitting here with it in my wallet trying to figure out what the hell I'm supposed to do.”
“You could call him.”
“And say what?”
“The truth?” She said it like it was simple, like telling Rowan the truth wouldn't mean ripping open every wound I'd spent years trying to keep closed. “He deserves to know what happened, Soren. And maybe you deserve to stop carrying it alone.”
I wanted to argue with her. But Talia knew me too well for that. She'd been there through the worst of it, had seen me at my absolute lowest, and she'd never once let me pretend I was fine when I wasn't.
“I'll think about it,” I said eventually, which was about as much commitment as I could manage right now.
She looked at me for a long moment, and then she picked up her bag and headed for the door. “Don't think too long. Some things don't get easier the longer you wait.”
And then she was gone, leaving me alone in the apartment with the breakfast dishes and the weight of her words sitting heavy on my shoulders.
The address Lucahad given me led to a house that was way too big for what I'd been expecting. Not mansion-level huge, but definitely the kind of place that said the family living here had money and weren't shy about showing it. I sat in my car for a minute staring at the perfectly manicured lawn and the three-car garage, wondering what the hell I was doing here.
I grabbed my bag off the passenger seat and walked up to the front door, pressed the doorbell, and listened to it chime inside. A few seconds later the door opened to reveal an elderly man with white hair and a smile that made his whole face light up.
“You must be Soren!” He said it with so much enthusiasm that I couldn't help smiling back. “Come in, come in. We've been looking forward to meeting you.”
