Taryn #2
“Now isn’t the time to get into why Matteo was a jerk in high school.
” She pauses. “Ya know what? The truth is, he’s still a jerk today.
” She takes a deep breath. “But never mind all that. Right now, I need you to tell me what you need. Did you just come here to get away from Liam and you want me to just listen? Or, do you want me to tell you what I think? Or, should we talk about ways to solve this? I can do any of that for you.” Elizabeth’s smile is gentle when her hand squeezes my thigh.
“Or, if you don’t want to talk any more, I can turn on a horror movie or some Walking Dead reruns. ”
This is why I love her. I can’t imagine a better friend.
She just put some dark memory from high school behind her to comfort me.
And she would gladly keep her opinions to herself if I just want to be mad for a while.
Offering me that option is amazing. I strongly consider it.
I’m getting a nice buzz and I’m not sure I could brainstorm solutions with her anyway.
“I don’t know if I’m in the best headspace to solve any problems right now,” I tell her honestly. “But, I would like to hear what you think…and then maybe the Walking Dead.” I really love that show.
“Great. Let me grab you a bottle of water first.”
As she moves to her kitchen, I remember Liam telling me to drink more water that night at Madness, and me telling him later that I don’t always drink my problems away.
I lean my head back against the couch. He was trying to take care of me even back then; I just don’t know if I can handle his type of care.
Elizabeth returns with the water bottle, twisting the cap before handing it to me like she’s worried I’ll pretend I don’t need it. I take it from her with a sigh.
She settles onto the couch beside me and folds one leg under the other, her posture relaxed even as her eyes study me closely.
“Tare,” she starts, her voice soft. “I love you. You know that, right?”
I nod, bracing for it.
She smiles kindly. “Okay, good. Because what I’m about to say comes from love. Not judgment. Just…best friend honesty.”
I nod again.
“I think you’re hurt and angry and spiraling a little right now,” she says carefully. “Which is totally fair. But I also think you need to breathe. Just for a second. Because you’re married now, and that means—whether you like it or not—your choices affect someone else.”
I open my mouth, but she raises a hand. “I’m not going to tell you you’re wrong to be upset.
You overheard something that hurt you. And if I were in your shoes, I’d probably be angry about it too.
But”—she pauses, brushing her hair back behind her ear—“I think maybe you need to take a breath and talk to Liam before you decide what this all means.”
My shoulders tense.
“I mean—” She hesitates, choosing her words with care. “You heard part of a conversation. You’re filling in the rest with the worst-case scenario. And I get that. But this is your husband now. Things are different.”
I scowl. “Different how?”
“Different like, if you’re going to build something real with him, you can’t shut the door without even asking what’s really going on. You need answers, not assumptions. And you deserve to hear them from him.”
I stare at the water bottle in my hands.
“I’m not saying you have to forgive anything,” she adds. “But I think you need to find out if there’s something to forgive. Because this might be a misunderstanding. Or it might not. Either way, you can’t know unless you talk to him.”
She leans over and gently squeezes my arm. “Tell him you want your money back. Tell him you need clarity. But tell him. You don’t have to blow up your life before you’ve even asked for the truth.”
I take a long sip of water, trying to keep my emotions from boiling over again. “How am I supposed to trust him? I thought we were finally getting somewhere. I thought he got me. And then I hear him talking like I’m just some problem to manage.”
Elizabeth leans back, adjusting her position on the couch. “I know it feels like that right now. But you don’t know what he meant unless you ask him.”
She gives me a small, sympathetic smile. “You married Liam. That means something. You’re not just engaged anymore—you’re partners. And yeah, maybe the start of it was forced, and maybe it’s all complicated and messy, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re in this together now.”
I close my eyes. “That’s just it. We’re not. It feels like he’s making all these moves behind my back. Deciding what I need without asking. Protecting me like I’m breakable.”
She nods. “That seems to be his default setting when it comes to you. And you may not have noticed, but it’s not always gentle or completely thought out. I mean, have you seen Sam around campus? He’s still black and blue.”
I look at her sharply.
“I’m not saying it was the healthiest response,” she says, hands up. “But it’s very… Liam.”
That actually earns a small laugh from me. “It is.”
Elizabeth nudges my knee with hers. “You said you thought he understood you. Maybe he does. But guys are kind of idiots. Even the smart ones.”
I huff. “That’s reassuring.”
“I think you should give him a chance to meet you where you are. Tell him what you heard. What you think. What you want. You’re allowed to set boundaries. And then see what he does. Maybe he’ll disappoint you again. Or, maybe he won’t.”
I nod slowly. “Yeah. Okay.”
But I don’t mention the fund. Not yet. That conversation can wait. Because no matter what Liam says, I need to be ready for the possibility that he’s not who I hoped he was. I’m not handing him a loaded gun and hoping he doesn’t use it to kill my future.
And the first step toward ensuring that?
I’m moving that money.