I shook my head, confused. "Harrison, you neverhadme." He wasproudof me for standing up for myself? I wouldn't need to do that ifhehadn't started his hate campaign against me. What sort of backward, reverse psychology bullshit was that?
He paused, his mouth twitching at my words. "You're right. I made sure of that, didn't I?"
He watched me warily, his expression guarded as he considered his next words.
"Those last few weeks, you know what I'm talking about–"
"I don't want to talk about that, Harrison, please." I shook my head, wanting to press my hands against my ears to shut him out. I barely held it together having to sit in that stuffy hall discussing an event that was a little triggering for me. I definitely did not want to talk about what had happened—ever—otherwise, I feared I might actually ruin Amelia and Liam's wedding after all.
"Just say what you have to say if you must, but let's forget what happened."
Harrison's color paled, and his throat bobbed. He looked like a hurt bunny and I railed against myself not to pat his hand in comfort.
"If you want, Grace. But I just wanted to explain. By then, I tried to salvage it. You were leaving, and I couldn't handle it. I wanted to take it all back, to crawl back into your good graces. But it got fucked up again. That was my fault, and when you're ready, we'll talk about it," he firmly stated, leaving me no room to argue.
"Anyway, after high school, I settled into working at the farm but was miserable. I drank a lot and was sinking into a deep depression. I finally had a wake-up call and ended up sitting Dad and Ryan down and telling them how I felt." I wondered what that wake-up call was, but before I could ask, Harrison continued.
"Dad was horrified that I felt pressure to work on the farm, and he honestly did not know that I wanted to pursue something else. Ryan loves the farm and is happy to help Dad and eventually take over. From there, I was free to do what I loved—football. I've never wanted to play professionally, but I loved the coaching side of things. Making plays and watching them come to fruition. I went to college, got my degrees, and begged Coach Holloway to let me shadow him. From there, I became assistant coach and now head," he finished. He regarded me with still hesitant eyes, gauging my reaction to his words.
I remained silent, soaking in what he had just confessed. There was so much to unpack I didn't know where to start. His words about his mother touched that compassionate soul within me. No kid should be abandoned completely by their parents, and I had no idea how I would've behaved if our circumstances were reversed. Would I have succumbed to a sunken life of misery, or would it have made me stronger? More determined?
Yet, was it even fair to apply hypothetical reactions to a situation I knew nothing about? It was easy to cast judgments on how we would behave in a circumstance when we're on the periphery looking in.
Harrison took another shaky breath. "All of this is not an excuse for how I treated you. There is no excuse. Like James, I've always regretted my behavior. That is my one regret in life—that I treated you so badly. An apology is not enough to compensate for what I did, but I hope it's a start. I am so, so sorry, Grace." His brown eyes were sincere and shimmered with a suspicious-looking sheen. "I hope one day you can forgive me."
He leaned back in his seat, giving me room to contemplate. The car was spacious, yet we might as well be sharing a confined box. The air was wrought with strain. The kind that could unravel and snap at the slightest pressure.
Now, it was my turn to take a shaky breath. God, where to start? I searched my brain for what to say. I really had not expected Harrison's explanation to be this intense.
"I was an immature asshole who liked to trod on those weaker than me"was the extent of what I thought he would say. Was it wrong that I could almost understand where he was coming from?
Almost.
"Harrison," I started slowly. I had no idea what I would say, but I let my mouth start talking, hoping to end up with something half coherent.
"I appreciate the apology." I turned fully to face him. His eyes were dark against the evening backdrop. Their pools swirled with some indescribable emotion as he waited with bated breath for my response.
"You're right. It's not an excuse, but it's helped me better understand how you went from the sweet boy that I admired to…well…You know." I moved my hands in an etcetera gesture.
"Honestly, the fact that you admired me back then makes me feel worse. It could have easily turned into something so great for us." Damn, that came out wrong. I hadn't meant thatsomething greatwas romantic in any way, just that Harrison and I could've enjoyed a close friendship similar to my one with Liam.
But you're not attracted to Liam.
I paused as I considered my next words carefully.
"In saying that, you wouldn't be where you are today, and neither would I. There's no point going through the "what ifs." It is what it is, and for what it's worth, I'm sorry for what you went through with your mom."
Harrison waved away my apology. I wasn't done, though.
"But," I slowly added, facing forward. "While I accept your apology, it will take me a while to get over everything. I have moved on and in some way forgiven you, but the memory lingers, especially when confronted with it so abruptly." I shrugged a shoulder. "Maybe one day we can build a genuine friendship, but for now, I'm happy to just let us be friendly acquaintances."
Harrison's gaze seared my cheek as he listened intently to my response. He made no noise, but I could see his knuckles flex against the wheel from the corner of my eye. "Acquaintances," he repeated hollowly.
"Yes." I turned to face him and placed a hand on his shoulder before quickly removing it when I felt a tingling spark. My fingers itched at the phantom contact. "You forget, I've only been in town for less than a week. Amelia, Ruth, Liam, and all the rest have had years to experience the new you. It's gonna take time, and since we're involved in the wedding party, I'm okay to continue being cordial with each other." I gave him a small smile of reassurance.
Harrison blew a breath out. His fingers finally left the wheel, and he rubbed at his thighs. I couldn't help but notice how strong they looked. He definitely didn't skimp out on leg day.
"Okay, yes." He turned to me with a small smile. "Cordial, polite, and friendly acquaintances it is."
