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24
Long dark hair, pulled into a low ponytail. Eyes so blue they looked almost unreal. But it was the expression on Sara’s face that made Harper’s heart start to hammer against her chest. The shock at seeing another woman in her basement, a pregnant woman at that.
Harper took another ragged breath and stepped back again, this time her hands cradling her stomach. Her first thought was to protect her unborn child, so vulnerable in her womb. Her heart was hammering like crazy against her chest.
“Who is she?” Sara asked, her eyes sweeping over Harper. “Why were you touching her, James?”
Harper’s
legs started to tremble, her muscles weakening with fear. She reached out for the chair to steady herself.
And James. Strong, sturdy James. He looked from one to the other as though he had no idea who either of them were. And for a moment all Harper could think about was an old movie she’d seen. Jane Eyre meeting the first Mrs. Rochester who’d been locked in the attic.
The urge to laugh came over her. This was so melodramatic. Things like this didn’t happen to her. It was as though she was an observer, watching the scene play out on a flat screen. She wanted to scream at herself to leave before something bad happened.
“I need to go,” she said, willing her legs to move herself forward. But as she passed James he grabbed her wrist.
“Sit down,” he urged. “You look way too pale.”
“Of course I’m pale. Your dead wife just walked into the basement.”
“I’m not Sara.” The woman with Sara’s face shook her head. “I’m Alice. Her twin.”
“Sara has a twin sister?” Harper looked at James. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I… I never thought.” It’s his turn to frown. “Alice and her parents live in Phoenix.”
“And who are you?” Alice asked again, confusion marring her face.
“I’m Harper.” She still felt disoriented. The same kind of sick feeling she used to get when she stepped off a rollercoaster. “Harper Hayes.”
“Okay.” Alice nodded.
Harper breathed heavily. The shock of thinking she was Sara still hadn’t quite worn off.
“Harper’s the friend I was telling you about,” James said. “She’s been using the basement for her business.”
Alice licked her lips, her brows pulled down as though she was trying to work something out. “You didn’t say she was pregnant.” She looked down at Harper’s stomach. “I’m completely confused here. What’s going on?”
Harper waited for James to explain. To tell Sara’s sister about their baby, their relationship. Her chest ached as he looked from her and then back to Alice, his lips pressed together.
“It’s complicated,” he finally said. “I’ll explain later.” He barely glanced at Harper. “The new soap is in the bathroom cupboard. I’ll come up and show you.”
He was leaving? Harper couldn’t quite believe it. She watched as he walked over to where Sara stood at the bottom of the stairs. Waited for him to turn back, hold his hand out for her, and introduce her properly to the sister of his dead wife.
But instead he gave Harper a nod. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Blood rushed through her ears, dulling the sound of his footsteps as he led Alice back up the stairs. Harper stood there, alone, her hand cradling the baby, feeling the press of a hand against her own. Her cheeks burned with the rejection, her throat so tight she was finding it hard to breathe.
Had he really just walked out and left her? She felt like the little girl she’d once been, watching at the window as her mom stepped into the car of yet another boyfriend. Harper had pressed her nose against the glass and prayed her mom would turn around, come back and tell her she wasn’t really leaving.
But she always left. And Harper was always the forgotten child. The memory of it was like a knife to her chest. When she’d left home at the age of eighteen she’d sworn she’d never feel like this again. Unwanted, ignored, neglected.
Yet here she was, letting the man she’d fallen for make her feel worse than she’d ever felt in her life. The worst part was she’d let him. Let him pretend she was nobody, dismiss her like she was just some friend he’d met along the way. Maybe she wasn’t the strong woman she’d thought she was.
She’d let herself down. And that was the worse betrayal of all.
* * *
