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“I tried this gas station cake he likes. It was amazing!” I would certainly be making that a treat going forward.
“Oh yeah?”
“He wants me to disagree with him,” I stated.
“Oooohhhh. Tell me more.” Talia’s psychology degree took over.
“Soren said every time I’m with him, I have to disagree about one thing. But he said he wouldn’t get angry at me.”
“Why do you think he wants to do that?” she asked as if she already knew the answer.
“He said I should have space to be ‘authentically me.’” I raised my fingers in air quotes.
“Sounds like maybe he noticed how you always put others first. How does that make you feel?” Therapist Talia asked.
“I guess it makes me feel too many things. He wants to be more than friends, but he doesn’t know how messed up I am . . . ”
Talia pulled my blanket burrito body into her arms.
“You listen to me, Sawyer Brannan. You’ve been through more hell than anyone I know, but you aren’t ‘messed up.’ You deserve to be happy, and if being around Soren makes you happy, then I want that for you.”
I leaned into her embrace. Talia was the only human that I allowed to hug me. She was the best friend anyone could ask for, but sometimes I wondered what I’d eventually do to push her away. When she’d see through me for who I truly was. I fought the fear that she’d leave—because everyone always did—but it didn’t stop me from sinking into her hug. A fierce squeeze that melted away the edge of all the day’s big emotions. She had those miraculous hugs that made problems look smaller and less daunting.
“He’s taking me to a concert,” I said as my face was smashed against Talia’s shoulder.
She pulled back, her body nearly vibrating with energy.
“What? Way to bury the lede! Tell me everything!” she exclaimed excitedly.
“It’s the Cal Austin concert.” I wanted to scream with excitement, but the anxiety of something new ate at me.
“Girl. We gotta find you a smokin’ outfit!”
“Tal, it isn’t a date. It’s. . . like friends,” I explained.
With an exaggerated eye roll and a smile still on her face, she declared, “Friends to lovers is my favorite trope! What do you think about watching a rom-com and doing some online shopping with quick shipping, so you can look extra hot?” She cackled at herself as she reached for the remote.
“Talia, what if I have another panic attack? You know I don’t do things like this,” I asked, reaching for my chain. Talia stilled and turned toward me. Her serious, warm brown eyes met mine.
“Soren helped you before, right?” she asked softly.
“Yeah.” He had. He’d been my anchor that settled everything around me.
“Then let him help you again,” she reasoned as she gave me another quick squeeze. It wasn’t lost on me that she said “let,” as if it was just as much my choice to get help as it was for someone to offer it.
She was right. He had held my hand when I was triggered the other night. Soren was the type of person that would help those in need around him. But I still wanted to be more than a pity case to him. And once he realized how fractured I was, he’d leave.
“Ready to find something sexy?” Talia quipped as she snagged my laptop. Her grin was a smidge short of maniacal.
And so it went. We turned on the latest rom-com and let it play in the background while Talia showed me outfits much too bright and revealing for my librarian-style taste in clothing. I finally settled on a light blue dress that Talia claimed would make my eyes pop. We laughed until we couldn’t breathe, tears streaming down our faces until we saw stars. It was exactly the evening I needed.
Chapter
Twenty-Six
Soren
I tossed a roll of nine gauge wire onto the bed of my UTV and surveyed the fence I had just repaired. A massive limb had broken off an old tree in the wind last night and it had fallen on the fence. Thankfully, I had noticed the issue before the cattle in this pasture noticed and made a run for it. I could imagine them now, eating on the rows of prairie grass hay bales, while I’d have to round up Gene and Travis to corral them back in. Of course, then they’d be resistant because cows were always stubborn when it came to eating, especially when it was on the opposite side of the fence where they belonged. Travis would come out later and cut the limb into firewood for his and Gene’s cabin fireplaces.
