I take his hand where it rests on the mattress.
“I know this will affect you. There’s no avoiding that. But I don’t want you carrying responsibilities that aren’t yours. I haven’t said anything these past few days, even when you barely leave the house except for school. But next week, I want your life to go back to normal. Go to your friends’ houses. Meet them somewhere. Play your games again. Without hovering, making sure I’m not falling apart.”
He draws in a deep breath.
“But I want to help you. I don’t want you to feel alone.”
“I’ll never feel alone,” I say, smiling as I press a hand to my chest. “You and your sister are always with me. That’s where my strength comes from. Seeing you live again will help me more than you know. Please?”
He nods and squeezes my fingers.
“When are you going to talk to Alicia again?”
I close my eyes, the pressure settling hard in my chest.
“Soon. I just need to find a way to help her understand it’s final… without shattering her.”
The knock on my bedroom door startles me. Alicia steps inside as soon as I answer.
“Harper’s downstairs, Mommy. She said she came to visit.”
I frown and grab my phone, checking to see if she texted me. Nothing. I haven’t heard from her or Felicity all week. I’m sure they already know, even if they haven’t read my blog.
I understand it, though. They were Colin’s friends long before they were mine. I won’t pretend it doesn’t sting. It does. But that’s adulthood.
I get up and head downstairs as Alicia slips back into her room. Harper is standing by the window when I reach the bottom of the stairs. She turns at the sound of my steps and smiles. I return it, even as a slight unease settles in.
She’s never dropped by unannounced before. And she doesn’t live close enough for this to be casual.
Which makes me wonder what she’s really doing here.
When she's near enough, she leans in to kiss my cheek, then steps back to look me over. "You look tired. Have you been sleeping?"
"Not much," I admit with a smile that doesn't quite reach my eyes.
I offer to make us coffee and bring out some of the cookies I baked for the kids, but she declines. As soon as we sit—her on the couch, me in one of the armchairs—she says, “I can imagine it hasn’t been easy. Even so, I was surprised you haven’t sent out the Thanksgiving invitations yet.”
It takes me a moment to process what she’s really implying.
“There won’t be any invitations or dinner this year, Harper. I thought you’d understood that by now.”
“Nonsense,” she says, waving a hand. “You can’t let something like this ruin a tradition you’ve kept for years.”
I meet her gaze without flinching.
“Harper, Colin cheated on me. For months. ‘Something like this’ would be him putting the wrong kind of gas in my car. Not having an affair with his assistant.”
She exhales, and I already know I won’t like what comes next.
“These things happen. Why do you think I always make sure Jonathan’s assistants are men?” She arches an eyebrow. “Men cheat. I’m sure there’s a study out there proving it’s biological. I’ll admit, Colin surprised all of us. He always seemed so devoted to you. But throwing him out? Walking away from something you’ve built for years?” She shakes her head. “That’s letting the other woman win. Call him right now. Tell him to come home. I guarantee he’d be here in minutes. That’s how much that man loves you.”
I’ve always known Harper to be blunt. She’s never softened her words. I just never imagined that bluntness could turn into something this cruel.
I stand. When she doesn’t take the hint, I say, calmly,
“Thank you for stopping by. I hope you have a blessed Thanksgiving, full of gratitude and grace.”
Harper stays seated, legs crossed, watching me like I'm being unreasonable. "Cecily, you can't let this dictate your life—"
