Page 106 of Freefall

“Harper.”

The overwhelming relief that washed through my body when I heard her key in the door disappeared the second she walked in. She’s irritated. Not apologetic. Not relieved to see me. Just…annoyed. Like I’m the fucking problem.

“That’s it?” I ask. “You have nothing to say?”

She finally turns to me. The first thing I notice is the dark circles under her eyes. The second is her lips. They’re swollen like she’s been chewing on them.

“I’m exhausted, Nate.” Her voice is flat. “I can’t do this right now.”

I stare at her. “You can’t do this?” The words come out hollow—like they’re not even coming from my own mouth.

She walks to her closet, pulls down a small duffel bag, and drops it onto the bed. “It’s a long story. I need you to trust me.”

I almost laugh. “Trust you? You disappeared for an entire fucking day.”

My voice cracks despite my best effort to keep it steady. “You ignored all my calls. Didn’t even text me back to let me know you were okay.” I take another step closer. “How exactly am I supposed to trust you?”

My heart thuds in my chest as I wait for an answer, but it doesn’t come. She kneels in front of her dresser, pulls out a stack of clothes, and starts folding them into the bag.

Like I’m not even here.

“Harper.” She keeps folding clothes into the duffel. “Fucking look at me.”

Finally, she stops and straightens.

“Listen, Nate.” She exhales deeply. “I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you for a few hours. I was dealing with a family emergency, and I left my phone in the car. But coming back to dozens of missed calls and texts…” She shakes her head. “Honestly? It was a lot and…”

Her hazel eyes flick to mine. My jaw tenses as a rush of blood pounds in my ears, and somehow I just know her next words are going to gut me.

“I don’t want to feel like I have to report to you every second of the day. I think…I just need some space.”

There it is.

Space.

Of all the words she could have said, that is by far the worst. I may not have been in relationships before, but I know how they work. Space is right up there with “it’s not you, it’s me” and “I think we should take a break.”

She’s leaving me.

Or at least she’s trying to.

“No.”

Her eyebrows pull together. “No?”

I close the distance between us. “What did I tell you that first time, Harper?” She instinctively backs up until her knees hit the bed. I brace my hands on either side of her, leaning in until our faces are inches apart. “You’re mine.”

She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even blink. “That doesn’t imply ownership, Nate.”

A bitter laugh escapes. “Do you need a fucking dictionary? That’s exactly what it implies.”

“No. It means we’re together.” Her voice stays calm. “It doesn’t mean you get to keep tabs on me and definitely doesn’t mean you get to spiral because you don’t hear from me for a few hours.”

I shake my head. “You’re wrong.”

“It’s how I feel, Nate. There is no right or wrong. Feelings don’t follow rules.”

I stare at her until she ducks under my arm and walks back to her dresser. Only now do I register what she’s doing. She’s packing a bag as if…