He finally looks at me again. His eyes, normally warm, teasing, and full of life, feel shuttered now.
Guarded.
Not cold.
Just…wounded.
And that’s somehow worse.
He gently pulls his hand from mine, like the contact itself is too much for him.
“We focus on him,” Harrison says softly. “That’s it. Anything else is…it’s too messy. I can’t.”
“Of course,” I manage. “Connor comes first. Always.”
A part of me—that part of my soul that has never stopped loving Harrison Meers—wilts at the thought of having to see him regularly for Connor but never for myself. Selfish, I know, but true, nonetheless.
“He deserved to have me from the beginning,” he murmurs, more to himself than to me. That’s the comment that breaks me. It’s not loud, and not angry, but quiet and full of a grief I put there.
I close my eyes because it’s all too much. Too honest. Too familiar. To painful.
“I’m so sorry, H. I wish I could take it all back. I wish I could do things differently, but I can’t.”
He waits, breathing slowly, giving me space.
When I open my eyes again, he’s looking at me, not like a stranger, not like a mistake, but like the boy who once memorized my laugh and the man who now knows the weight of what we lost.
“We’ll figure this out. We have to.”
I nod silently.
“But Harper,” he adds softly, “I’m not walking away from this. From him. You brought him here for a reason, whatever that reason is and now that I know he’s mine, I’m not walking away. Do you understand me?”
“I understand.”
The ocean crashes against the cliffs, echoing in the silence.
And even though nothing is simple, even though everything feels impossibly fragile, I feel slightly freer than I have in years.
Good or bad, for better or worse, the cat’s out of the bag. I’m no longer holding onto a painful truth on my own.
He clears his throat, blinking hard. “I think we should head back. Before I say something I might regret.”
I nod again because there is nothing else to say or do. I feel small, guilty, and foolishly devastated for reasons I have no right to be.
Harrison starts the engine and we say nothing on the ride back.
He says nothing when he stops in front of my building.
And nothing as I open the door.
Just as I step out, he speaks softly. “We’ll talk again soon. For Connor’s sake.”
I nod and shut the door.
And this time, he doesn’t wait to see if I make it inside before he drives off.
By the time the elevator doors close, I’m already blinking too fast, trying to keep my vision from going blurry.
