I shrug, recalling Luke’s enthusiasm and belief in me, the folder with all the numbers still in my bag, the empty store on the Lower East Side. I remember how I could see the ideas from my napkin come to life in that place, how I thought I’d call it something fun, like Game of Scones.
But thinking of that now sends a sharp sting through my chest and I quickly shake my head. The girl that stood in that empty shop space and pictured starting her own business was a different person. That was Harriet 2.0. When I think of that idea now it feels ridiculous. It feels impossible.
“I’d love to help you set something up,” Paula says. “Maybe when I’m back from seeing the world, we could—”
“Thanks, but I don’t think so.” A shaky laugh drops from my lips. “I’ll… I don’t know. I’ll find another job.” As much as I hate the thought of having to redo my resume and find a new job, I guess that will give me something to focus on, to distract me from the pool of misery I’ve been wallowing in. And it’s a lot less overwhelming than contemplating some wild fantasy of flitting off to start my own business in a new country.
Paula sighs, setting the salt and pepper shakers down, but she doesn’t say anything more.
I force another smile and stand. “I’m so happy for you. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.” I wander to the counter and turn on the espresso machine, willing the tears brimming my eyes to go away, the hollowness inside to disappear.
It feels like I’m losing everything I know, and soon there won’t be anything left.
39
Paula sends me home early. Apparently I’m not keeping it together as well as I think I am, and when she catches me having a little cry in the bathroom she decides I’ve done enough for the day.
But at home I just stand in the living room and stare blankly at nothing, unsure of what to do with myself. I should be preparing my resume to start job-hunting but, God, I can’t face it. I’ll start tomorrow.
In the end I curl up on the sofa and put on a movie (The Empire Strikes Back, if you must know. I wanted to, I don’t know, “be” with Luke) but there’s a knock at the door. I pause the opening credits and peel myself off the couch. When I swing the door open, my jaw sags at the figure on the doorstep. But before I can say anything, Alex throws her arms around me.
“Oh my God, Harriet. I’m so sorry!”
I let her hug me, dumbstruck. Over her shoulder, I spy Michael coming up the steps.
“Can you ever forgive me?” She pulls back, her eyes misty as she contemplates my face. Why on earth is she askingmefor forgiveness? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?
“Give her a minute,” Michael says to Alex, chuckling.
I step aside and motion for them to come in. They enter the living room and Michael’s gaze lands on the television, the corners of his eyes creasing in a smile.
“Luke and Henry are obsessed with this film.”
I look away, blinking back the tears that spring to my eyes. Seeing Michael—with his uncanny similarities to Luke—is almost too much to bear.
“Honey,” Alex admonishes, shaking her head at him. He looks chastened, and she turns her attention back to me. “Are you okay? You look…”
“Not really.” I flop back onto the sofa.
“I’ll make some tea, then we can talk.”
I nod, my gaze involuntarily returning to Michael. He shifts his weight and I gesture to a chair. We sit in awkward silence, staring at the frozen film credits on the screen, while Alex clatters about in the kitchen. A few minutes later she appears with tea and settles onto the sofa beside me, folding her legs up underneath her and cradling her mug.
I take my tea with a weak smile. “What are you doing here?”
“Honeymoon,” she says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Michael wanted to see where I grew up, and he promised we could stop over at Hawaii on the way home, so…” She shrugs, grinning, then her face turns serious. “First thing’s first, I need to apologize.”
“Why? If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me. I’m sorry I lied to you, and I never meant to ruin your wedding. I thought you’d never speak to me again, and—”
“Oh, Harri. You don’t have to apologize. I completely attacked you for what happened with Luke and I had no right.”
I blush, sliding an uncomfortable look to Michael. I can only assume she told him I was sleeping with Luke and I don’t know what he must think of me. “Michael, honestly, it was an accident, me and Luke. I didn’t know he was your brother and I didn’t know he was married, at least not when we met, but…” I trail off, unsure of what else I can say. I can’t tell him Luke and Dena are divorced because I’ll sound delusional.
But it’s more than that. Even after everything that happened, I still don’t feel like I can tell them the truth. It’s not my place. If Luke wants to tell them he can, but I’m not going to do it. I shouldn’t have to.
Alex places a gentle hand on my arm. “Luke told us everything.”
I nearly drop my tea. “You mean…”
