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“Just like everyone else.” Her eyes narrow, proving there’s still some fight in them. She’s not ready to see the truth. “You don’t know if you can keep that promise.” She jerks her arms free. “I should’ve never come back. I was doing okay in Texas. I didn’t have to worry about anyone. It was just me, and I liked it that way.”

“No. It was easier, that’s all. You didn’t have to give yourself to anyone. Now that you’re back, Willa wants you. I want you. And you’re afraid of that. You’re so scared. You’re ready to leave.” I take a step forward. She retreats.

“Okay.” I hold up my hand. “Please, just give it some time. Don’t do anything rash. I get it. Willa took you by surprise. Fuck, you took me by surprise. The way I feel about you.” I take a deep breath. “Give it some time.”

I see it in her eyes. She’s running.

“I’ve gotta go.”

“Harper!”

She heads toward the elevator, waving her hands. “I can’t do this.” She presses the button and waits with her back to me for the doors to open.

I want to run to her. Grab her. Pull her against me. Beg her not to leave. But I can’t force her. I can’t force us. It must be her decision.So I have to let her go.

Chapter 41

I ring the doorbell and wait until it cracks open.

“Hi, Willa. Is Harper home?”

“No.” She rests her hand on the doorjamb. Her body slumps forward. “She’s at the center.”

“Oh.” My heart slows down.

She’s not gone. She didn’t leave. There’s still time.

“She stopped by earlier for a few minutes and then left. She’s angry with me.”

“Yes.” I look down at the ground. “She told me.”

“Good. I’m glad she has someone to talk to.” She moves to the side. “Would you like to come in?”

“Sure.” I walk inside the counseling room Brett built, looking around the place.

“How about some coffee?”

“Sounds good.” I follow her into the kitchen.

She pulls a couple of mugs from the counter and pops a pod into the coffee maker.

“I understand why you did it. I’m sure once the shock wears off, Harper will too,” I say, cutting to the chase. Not trying to sugarcoat anything. We both care about Harper. We need to work together and try to help and support her through this.

“Yes. I’m not worried about that.” She motions to the table.

I sit down.

“I’m just concerned that she’ll take off before she does.”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “She’s a runner.”

“The poor girl has been through so much.” She pauses from the sound of the coffee finishing. She gets up, grabs the cup, and puts the other one under the maker. “I wanted to tell her the truth about me years ago.” She places my coffee on the table. “I went to my brother’s when she was three.” She lowers herself into the chair. “You could see the love between them. He was her father. That’s all she knew. He needed her too. He lost his wife in an accident and was never the same. Not until Harper. She brought so much joy to his life, and I couldn’t bring myself to take that away from either of them. I loved them both very much. They were my world.” She runs her hand up her arm. “And what did I have to offer her? My lifestyle centered around helping abused women. It’s not the kind of environment you want a child growing up in.”

The coffee again gives Willa a break. She gets her cup and moves back to the table.

“When my brother died”—a pained expression crosses her face—“and Harper came to live with me, not a day went by when I didn’t want to tell her the truth. But she was so angry. So hurt. I didn’t want to cause any more pain for her.”

I nod, keeping my silence. I think Willa needs to get this off her heavy shoulders. She needs someone to talk to. Someone to hear her story.

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