“She called Frank this morning and told him she wouldn’t be in.”
“And that’s good enough for you? ‘She called Frank so now I don’t have to worry.’” He could hear Sophie getting angry.
“No, it’s not good enough for me, Soph. She’s not answering her phone, she hasn’t been on Facebook, Aldo and Gloria haven’t seen her. I thought she would have gone to your house last night. Short of calling the cops, I don’t know what else to do.”
“Why did you do it?”
“How do you know it wasn’t Harper breaking things off with me?”
“Because Harper isn’t a chickenshit who runs when the going gets scary.”
“I’m not a chickenshit. It wasn’t working. She built this whole life around me without me having a say and then everyone’s so fucking surprised when it turns out that wasn’t what I wanted.” He was yelling now, but couldn’t seem to stop.
Unintimidated, Sophie yelled back. “Yeah, I can’t think of any man who would want a woman who thought he hung the stars in the goddamn sky. Who worked her ass off making his house a home, not to mention organizing his work life so he could concentrate on something other than chaos.”
Luke swore. “You don’t understand.”
“Oh, I do understand. I just keep waiting foryouto wake up and understand. You just threw away something that most people only dream about having. I can’t even talk to you right now.”
He could picture his sister pacing in exasperation. “Are you going to look for her?”
“What do you care?”
“Just — If you find her, let me know that she’s safe.” Luke hung up the phone and tossed it on the passenger seat.
He stared at the front of his house. Harper’s planters from the summer had been stowed in the garage and replaced with ropes of heavy green garland. She had asked about Christmas lights. She had never had Christmas lights before.
He had been parked in the driveway for a full ten minutes before Soph had called. He couldn’t concentrate on work so he came home. But the thought of setting foot in the house and facing the stack of boxes, all the evidence of Harper in his life boxed up and put away as if she had never been there, was enough to keep him in the truck.
When would his life be his own again?
He’d go for a run, he decided. A long, cold run to clear his mind.
***
Harper stirred at the knock on her door.
When it opened, she pulled the covers down and directed a watery smile at the tray-bearing woman.
“I made you some tea and toast,” Joni said, putting the tray down on the nightstand.
“You don’t have to go to any trouble, Joni. I’m just so grateful that you let me stay here.”
She patted Harper’s hand. “It’s nice having someone else in the house.”
“Even if they don’t leave the bed?” Harper tried to laugh, but it came out as a hiccup.
Joni handed her the sturdy mug of tea.
Harper took a sip and her eyes widened as the hot honeyed liquid slid down her raw throat.
“I hope you don’t mind that I put a little whiskey in it. It always made me feel better.”
Harper wrapped her hands around the mug and sighed. There would be no feeling better. There was only now and the ache. “This is a nice room,” she said softly. The walls were a dusky blue-green accented with ocean prints. A large window seat overlooked the backyard of the comfortable two-story.
“Thank you. It used to be Karen’s. She helped me repaint it when she moved out.”
“When she and ... when she got married?” Luke’s name hurt too much to say.
