Page 65 of Playing With Love

“What don’t I know about you?”

Liza’s head twitched like she’d been electrocuted.

“Now’s not⁠—”

“Now’s the perfect time,” I contradicted before she finished. “Before we leave in the morning and have to put on an award-winning show of a couple in love we actually need to talk about this. Talk about why when I told you I loved you your response was to tell me I couldn’t love you. And just to point out, it’s not your actual words that are the problem—though they’re questionable—it’s the anguish behind those words that has me more concerned.”

She was shaking her head before I was finished, and as soon as I had the last word out she was ready to jump right in… with more bullshit.

“Can you maybe imagine how I’d be shocked to hear you tell me you loved me?”

“Yeah. I can imagine because I was shocked to shit to find out you felt the same. Then I was pissed at myself for not coming clean years ago, which would’ve saved you from dating then marrying an asshole. Not to mention, pissed about the time we lost. You weren’t shocked, Liza, you straight out told me I couldn’t love you, like you didn’t think you were worthy of the emotion. Then you confirmed that’s how you felt when you asked me not to blame you when I found out I wasted my time on you, and figured out you’re not worth it. We already established, it wasn’t Boyer who made you feel worthless. So, tell me, Liza, who made you think you’re not worthy of my love?”

“I didn’t mean it the way it came out. I was…overwhelmed, tired, frustrated with life. Really I was just shocked. Maybe a little angry, too, at myself, at the universe, at everything.”

None of that sounded plausible.

And none of that sounded like the Liza I knew.

“Baby, you don’t get overwhelmed. You’re the strongest woman I know.”

“Am I?” she angrily challenged.

“Yeah, Liza. Strong through and through.”

“Well, I’m tired of being strong, Tucker. It’s fucking exhausting,” she said, tossing her still-wrapped burrito back on the table. “I’m tired of always having to protect myself because if I don’t, no one else will. I’m tired of pretending everything’s okay. I’m tired of making myself small so other people aren’t uncomfortable. I’m tired of not speaking my mind to keep the peace. I’m just plain fucking tired of everything.”

“Liza—”

Her head whipped to the side so fast I feared she’d hurt herself. Pain-filled eyes locked onto mine, as unknown devastation swimming behind her hazel orbs wreaked havoc in my chest. But it wasn’t until her whispered question did that chaos catch fire.

“What if I’m done? What if I just want to fall apart? What then? Would I still be worth it, or am I only good enough if I’m the strong, reliable Liza?”

Jesus fuck, who the hell had planted the seed of worthlessness, then nurtured it until it had taken root? And how had she hidden it from me for so long?

“Baby, you get to be whoever you need to be with me.”

Her torso swung back, she shook her head, and a hand came up to physically ward off my declaration.

“Can we not talk about this?” she rasped.

Every instinct I had was screaming at me to push, to barrel ahead and break down her defenses. A pissed-off Liza meant an unguarded Liza. But the turbulence in her eyes coupled with her labored breaths meant I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t push without causing her pain, and until I understood what was going on in her head I had no choice but to back off.

“Yeah, Lizzy, we can not talk about it,” I agreed. She visibly relaxed only to stiffen again when I continued. “But only if you promise you heard me.”

“Tucker—”

“Anything, Liza. You are free to be anything you need to be with me. You want to fall apart, do it. I’m here to catch you. You want to let go and rest, give it to me to carry. I got you. Whatever it is that’s fucking with your head and tearing you apart inside, hand it over, baby, and I promise you, swear it, I won’t let you down. I’ll stand strong for you, for us. You just gotta trust me, and from there I’ll handle the rest.”

She looked no less freaked out and no closer to believing me.

Yet she nodded.

I knew that was the best she was going to give me.

“Eat, Lizzy. You hate cold TB.”

I watched her lids slowly lower until her eyes were closed.