Actually discussing - even vaguely - the terms of her relationship with Bruce and Briana’s relationship with the male equivalent of herself brought back too many painful memories for her own liking. Moments where she remembered having to lie to Bruce about miscarrying their child, watching Bruce fight tooth and nail to protect a pregnant Talia from harm. At the end of the day, perhaps Brianna was right. Their feelings didn’t matter anymore. If they were ever to try to rekindle their relationship again, who knows if he would come out alive? Not having him in her life was better than seeing his corpse.
Talia nodded in response. “I suppose we did.” That was just one more painful memory she had of her relationship with Bruce. Damian’s decision to choose Bruce and his family of vigilante’s over her own family. “I’m not sure whether to pity you or not.”
It was the same for Brianna. The only sign that she was feeling any discomfort came from a subtle shift. She shifted her weight and that was it, as close to fidgeting as she would ever get. Cold. Bitch. Unfeelng. How often had she heard those words tossed at her? Often enough that was for sure. There were times she proved that wasn’t always true. That deep, down she loved, that she cared, definitely enough to get hurt. Talib had been one of those times.
“I wouldn’t want your pity if you did.” she said smoothly. Her words weren’t hurled with anger, or as an insult, but rather a simple statement. Talia would of course know that. How odd, a woman who would be able to know things about her that she didn’t even have to reveal. No wonder she had admired her when they first began this conversation. “Do you ever wish you’d chosen differently?” she asked, the question came almost out of no where. It was personal, and candid, and Brianna hated herself for asking it. “So you could be with him?”