Garnet Flats (The Edens)

“Breathe,” I murmured against Talia’s hair as I held her in the middle of our bed. “Breathe.”

She kept crying, curled so tight into my chest it was like she was trying to burrow inside my body. She cried so hard that her enter body spasmed with each sob. The front of my shirt was soaked from her tears. And my heart . . . fuck. My heart could barely fucking take this.

This couldn’t be the first time she’d had a hard night at the hospital. Who’d held her after those nights? Who’d been here for her when it should have been me?

“Breathe, love.” I needed her to stop crying. I needed her to breathe. My arms banded tighter, wishing I could take this pain and absorb it. “It’ll be okay.”

She nodded, her fists clutching my shirt and twisting it in her grip. “I-I c-can’t—”

Stop. She couldn’t stop. “In and out.”

“S-sorry,” she stammered.

“It’s all right.” I kissed her hair, kept my arms locked, until the sobs became whimpers. Her chest shook with hiccups and the flood of tears eventually ebbed.

“I’m sorry,” she said, shifting out of my lap to sit on her own, cross-legged on the mattress.

“Better?” I tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and caught one of the last tears with my thumb.

“Ugh.” She sniffled, wiping her cheeks dry. Then she closed her eyes, dropping her face to her hands. “Sorry.”

“Why do you keep apologizing?”

“For crying.”

“So?” I tugged at her wrists, pulling her hands down until I could see her face.

She dragged in a shaky breath. “I don’t like crying in front of people.”

“I’m not people. I’m the man who loves you. Tear stained or not.”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. Then she glanced behind her toward the open bedroom door. “Where’s Kadence? She didn’t see that, did she? Shit.”

“She’s not here. It’s just us. Maggie’s mom invited her over for another playdate. I dropped her off about ten minutes before you got home.”

“Phew.” Talia closed her eyes again. “So much for living in my emotional shell.”

“Huh?” What was she talking about? “Is that some sort of doctor terminology for putting distance between you and your patients?”

“Oh, no. It’s something Lyla said. It’s why we got in that argument.”

The argument she hadn’t told me much about.

“She said I have an emotional shell.” Talia sniffled. “She was glad that you came to town because since you’ve been here, I’ve shown more emotion in a few days than I have in years. Whatever that means. I show emotion all the time but apparently not the ugly ones that she wants to see. We got in a fight about it. That’s why we haven’t been talking.”

I cupped her face, my thumb tracing her cheekbone. But I kept my damn mouth shut. She wasn’t going to like that I had to agree with Lyla.

“Does this look like an emotional shell?” Talia tossed up her hand, her chin quivering again.

My thumb just kept stroking her skin as my lips stayed closed.

Talia studied my face, then her eyes widened.

Damn it. I hadn’t hid it.

“You think so too, don’t you?” Her chin quivered. “That I live in an emotional shell?”

“No, I don’t think you live in an emotional shell.” I took her face in my hands, pulling her close for a kiss. “You laugh. You tried to rip my head off the day we got it on in the ring at the gym. Joy. Affection. Confidence. You show emotion, Tally. I’m guessing what Lyla meant was that you don’t always let others see when you struggle.”

“That’s not—”

I pressed a finger to her lips. “Case in point, you just apologized three times for crying.”

Her frame deflated.

“It’s my fault,” I said. “I’ll own it.”

She scoffed. “How is my emotional unavailability your fault?”

“Because you weren’t like this before.” I gave her a sad smile. “Remember that time you spilled bleach on my favorite jeans? I found you in the laundry room of your apartment, bawling over a white spot the size of a dime on the knee.”

“You loved those jeans. I loved those jeans. They made your ass look fantastic.”

I chuckled. “And I still wore them, stain and all.”

Those jeans had stayed with me a long time, mostly so I could look at that white spot and think of Talia. Too many years, too many washings, and they’d gotten so threadbare that I’d been doing yardwork one day and I’d torn through the knee. I’d had to toss them out. I’d been a miserable bastard for a week after that.

“I don’t want to be closed off,” she whispered.

“Drop your shield, love. Put your hands down. All the way.”

“I’m scared.”

“Voice your fears. Let’s put them out there. Face them, together.”

It took her a moment to meet my gaze. “Will you break my heart again?”

“Never.” I’d die first.

“Will you leave me?”

“Never.” Not willingly. Not until the end.

“Will you stop loving me?”

“Never.” My love for her had no end. I’d love her in this world and the next. “Never, Tally. Never.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “I love you. Only you. Always you.”

Victory.

This fight was over.

“I love you, Talia Eden.”

She closed her eyes, breathing like she was pulling those words into the fibers of her being, then she crawled into my lap, letting me hold her again.

I kissed her hair. “These scrubs are not the same ones you left in last night.” The ones last night had been her standard baby blue. These were teal, faded from too many trips to the laundry room.

“I had to change.”

“Want to tell me about it?” I asked.

“I want to be a good doctor,” she said.

“You are.”

“It’s easy to doubt yourself after the nights when people die.”

Fuck. I held her closer, listening as she told me about the accident. About the nurse who hated her and the son who’d died.

“I’m sorry,” I said when she finished.

“Me too.”

“What can I do?”

“You’re doing it.” She snuggled closer. “I need to shower. Get some food. See Kadence. I could use a few of her smiles today.”

That she wanted my daughter was, well . . . fuck. I didn’t deserve Talia Eden.

But she was mine to keep.

“Go take your shower. Then you need to rest.”

“I’m exhausted.” She yawned. “But I don’t know if I can sleep.”

“Come on. Up you go.” I lifted her off the bed and unzipped her coat. Then I helped her out of those scrubs, taking them to the hamper while she retreated to the bathroom.

It didn’t take her long to shower, and when she emerged, a towel wrapped around her torso, I dragged my lucky shamrock tee over her head.

She yawned again as I steered her toward the bed. And two minutes after I’d curled her into my side, she was out.

My arm fell asleep. I had a kink in my neck. Her damp hair soaked the sleeve and shoulder of my shirt. But damn it, I didn’t move for three hours while she slept. Not until my phone vibrated in my pocket with a text from Maggie’s mom saying that I could come get Kadence at any time.

The moment I shifted, Talia’s body jerked. Her eyes snapped open like she was waking from a bad dream.

“You okay?”

She nodded, her eyes blinking away sleep. “How long was I asleep?”

“A few hours. You want to crash again? I’ve got to go get Kaddie.”

“I’ll come with you.” She moved to roll off the bed but I gripped her shoulders, keeping her pinned to my side as I kissed her, slow and deep.

“I love you,” I said as I broke away.

She smiled. “I love you.”

“There’s my girl.” My Tally, the strongest person I’d ever met. Even after everything that had happened last night, she’d wear a smile today. For me. For Kadence.

I stripped out of my damp shirt while she blow-dried her hair. Then, still wearing my lucky tee with a pair of jeans, we took Kadence downtown for the afternoon to wander along Main and swing into Eden Coffee for drinks and a snack.

While Kaddie and I sat at a table sharing a croissant, Talia and Lyla slipped into the kitchen of the cafe. When they emerged, Talia glanced over and smiled.

Guess that meant their fight was over.

“Daddy, can we go to a movie?” Kadence asked, her lips covered in chocolate.

“Sure,” Talia answered for me as she joined us at the table. “The theater here isn’t as big as the ones you’re probably used to. But it’s pretty fun. They usually have a kids movie playing. And they make the best popcorn ever.”

“Better than mine?” I huffed. “Prove it.”

She laughed, musical and sweet. A laugh, unguarded and free.

No more doubts.

The three of us went to a movie. We stopped at the pizza place to pick up dinner and take it home. And after Kadence’s bath, Talia and I both tucked my daughter into bed before retreating to the couch.

“How are you feeling?” I asked as she leaned into my side, putting her head on my shoulder.

“Better. Thanks for today.”

“Welcome,” I said. “Can I ask you something? What did you do before? If you had a rough day at the hospital, what did you do?”

“Sometimes I’d go to the ranch. Take a ride. Other times, I’d just come here.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah,” she murmured. “But not anymore.”

“No, not anymore.” I shifted, ready to carry her upstairs to bed, but the sound of footsteps came from outside a second before the doorbell rang. “Who’s that?”

“A guess? Someone with the last name Eden.” Talia stood. “I’m sure news of the accident is all over town.”

So her family had come to check on her.

She followed me to the entryway.

Except it wasn’t an Eden on the porch. I flipped the lock and whipped the door open, waving our visitor inside. “Vivienne, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

The latter was a stupid question.

Her face was bone white. Her eyes were bloodshot. The dark circles beneath them looked like bruises.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” she told Talia. Then she glanced up at me. The moment our gazes locked, her face contorted and her eyes flooded with tears. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what? For coming here?”

Vivienne was scheduled to be here next week. She’d booked a flight to Quincy to stay here with Kadence while Talia and I went to Vegas for the fight.

“No, it’s . . . oh my God, Foster. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“What is going on?” My voice was too loud, but goddamn it, I was starting to worry.

Talia inched closer to my side, her hand slipping into my own. My pulse instantly calmed.

Until Vivienne spoke.

“It’s Dex. He’s not what he seems.” She gulped. “We’re in trouble, Foster. I’m in trouble.”