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Does she belong to you?
No.
But I do. Head and heart, body and soul. I need him. He needs me, and I can’t do anything but pray he comes to the same conclusion.
He’s hurting me in a way he never has before with his denial. It’s bitterness going down and numbing my heart. I would do anything to erase it. To drown the pain with the love I feel. I’m not giving up. But it appears, he isn’t either.
Tony calls the next round as Lance’s family and I watch him exhaust himself, throwing himself into the fight as if his life depends on it. Nick taps out at the end of the round, and Tony proudly declares Lance is ready.
He will reign the ring. That, I’m sure of.
And the only place I want to be when that happens, is by his side.
But on this day, he leaves the ring silent and alone.
Lance
“Damn,” Trevor says as Harper enters the living room from her bedroom.
“You look beautiful,” Mom chimes in as I keep my head down. I’m set up at the kitchen table with Dad’s books. I’ve got hours of this shit to work on before I can get some sleep. I don’t bother looking up as Harper thanks them both, walking past me toward the kitchen while the scent of vanilla drifts to my nose. I won’t even entertain this bullshit, this attempt to make me jealous.
“I’m going to grab some coffee to go if that’s okay?” Harper asks from the kitchen.
“Sure, sweetie, I have a new travel mug in the cabinet. It says ‘Beautiful and Badass.’”
Harper laughs. “Don’t mind if I do.”
Out of my periphery, I see her struggle to reach the mug. Pushing away from the table, I walk into the kitchen and feel her freeze when she senses me behind her. I extend my arm above her, and she turns to face me and softly says, “Of course.”
Unwilling to try and decipher whatever that means, I snatch the cup from the shelf, feeling her eyes on my profile.
“Please, look at me.” I lower my gaze to hers and see her eyes brimming with tears. They’re outlined in dark shadow, her lashes curled up, making her look painfully innocent. She looks beautiful in a light pink sweater and jeans. Her long hair flows over her shoulders. “I miss you. Please come with us.”
“I’ve got shit to do.” I hand her the mug and catch the slight wobble of her chin. I capture it between my fingers, trying my best to ignore the shimmer of her lips, the sting of her tears. “If this is too much to handle, I understand if you pass the bar and head on out.”
“Please stop punishing me. I just want to go and have a good time.”
“Then go.”
“I’m not doing it to make you jealous.”
“We aren’t together.”
“I belong to you.”
“Stop,” I snap. “I need to get back to work.”
“Please come with us.”
“No.”
She slowly lifts before pressing a kiss to my jaw. “I love you.”
“Have a good time, Harper.”
“She’s twenty-two,” Mom pipes up when the front door closes. I look up from the books to see both of my parents’ eyes on me.
“Drop it.”
