The Beautiful Truth

// 126

Time stopped, which I immediately recognized was stupid. Thus, I closed my mouth, blinked my eyes, and restarted my heart. A split second later, I reacted on instinct, all but leaping forward to throw my arms around him.

"Talyn!" I exclaimed, squeezing him and breathing in his familiar smell. I blinked a few more times, not wanting to let go, for fear that he'd disappear.

He wrapped his arms around me, laughing nervously.

"Well this went better than I'd hoped," Micki announced somewhere in my vicinity.

I finally pulled back to see that she'd sat down. Her words shot me back into reality. I looked up at Talyn and winced.

I opened my mouth to speak—to apologize—there was so much to say, and here I'd gone and thrown myself at the same guy whose heart I'd mercilessly broken less than four months earlier.

"Sawyer," Talyn stopped me, eventually letting a hint of his smile seep into what had started as a serious expression. "It's OK."

I blinked again, looking up at him. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Relief washed over me with an unexpected intensity.

"Do you need me to help you sit?" Talyn grinned, nodding at the chair he'd pulled out for me adjacent to Micki's seat in the padded booth. "I mean, those shoes are a little tall, can you make it?"

I looked down at my shoes, then back up at him. Micki giggled.

"I think she's in shock," she told Talyn. "It's like she's afraid you're a figment of her imagination."

Talyn smiled softly. "I'm not goin' anywhere, Say. Sit. Eat. God knows you look like you could use it."

Still dazed, I sat down slowly. "You planned this?"

Micki and Talyn looked at each other.

"Of course I did," Micki admitted. "I may be your best friend, but I'm only one of them. I couldn't take it anymore," she explained. "You've been so sad. You need him."

"And besides," he interrupted before I could completely deflate, "she said y'all are celebrating something. What is it? 'Cause you two look like a million bucks."

Micki scoffed. "Actually, about 750 grand, but close!"

Talyn frowned. "Huh?"

I forced a laugh. "I sold my script this afternoon. That's why we're—"

"Sawyer Evangeline Fitzgerald!" Talyn exclaimed loudly. "You're kidding!"

I finally, finally grinned widely, the shock wearing off and the relief continuing to spread. "Nope. Summit put the money in my account hours after I signed the papers."

"Holy hell, SF," he said, eyes wide and sparkling. "Tell me about it."

And so, for the next two hours, we caught up on each other's lives. Micki was there, I realized, for moral support—and to occasionally fill in a few details I was too modest to reveal (You think her arms look great? You should see her abs!) This was a dream come true, and it broke my heart.

Micki left us after dinner, and Talyn and I ended up in a dive bar down some side street where we ordered a pitcher of beer with no problems.

"Sawyer, have I ever told you how proud I am of you?" Talyn asked at some point, halfway through our first round and after a comfortable silence.

I looked over at him, surprised by his sentiment. "Talyn...you know how proud I am of you, too, don't you?"

He smiled at his beer for a moment, then turned back to me. "I know, but I wasn't fishing for a compliment. I just...it's been incredible, watching you come into your own since we left Pontiac—"

I wanted to tell him he sounded like my dad, but when I opened my mouth to speak, he gave me a look that said I'd better let him finish.

"—I...I just want you to know that I'm sorry, if I ever kept you from...anything, and I'm sorry I've been so selfish. You deserve," he swallowed hard, "you've always deserved to shine on your own. You don't need me."

For a moment, I didn't know what to say. There were twelve years of history wrapped up in those words.

"Talyn, I never felt like you...prevented me from being who I am. If anything, you make me the best version of myself," I admitted.

He looked as relieved as I'd felt earlier. My heart ached again. It was true —without Talyn around to bring me out of my shell, I would have been even more angry at the world than I already was back in Pontiac.

Against my better judgment, I reached across the table and grabbed his forearm. "And I will always, always want you in my life, regardless of what you think. Besides, I realized long ago that you're the one who doesn't need me."

Talyn pulled his arm back infinitesimally, and I withdrew my hand. And in that seemingly inconsequential action, I understood what he was trying to say.

I searched his familiar eyes for the words, but knowing him as I did, I didn't need to.

Talyn Parrish was giving in. We'd never be more than friends—even if we were best friends—again. As much as I thought—knew—this was what I wanted, knowing how much it hurt him killed me inside.

We finished our beers, made plans to meet up the following night, and hugged each other goodnight for a long, long time, before taking separate cabs back from where we'd come.

I waited a few blocks, and allowed myself to squeeze out two more tears for Talyn Parrish.