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“Lark!” He lunges, just as I catch my balance right on the edge. His arms come around me, holding me so tight that I can’t see around him.
I grip his shirt and try to regulate my breathing because my gut tells me something’s wrong. His heart is pounding, and his silence is deafening. He barely moves, but I feel his mouth against my head, his breath warm compared to the air. He kisses me, and then whispers, “Don’t. Move.”
I don’t either except for the hair on my head when the wind blows through the strands. I don’t even breathe, waiting for him to tell me what to do. We stand there too long, not taking any steps away, so I ask, “Is it safe?”
His heart is beating in overdrive, so when he doesn’t answer, I slowly turn to look up at his face. His gaze is locked in a standoff he’s determined to win. I follow it over the cliff to a small ledge about ten feet below and suck in a harsh breath.
Before I have time to exhale, I’m swept into his arms. He carries me to a grassy area closer to the road and sets me down amongst the wildflowers that grow there. We’re still holding on to each other. His grip doesn’t loosen, and neither does mine.
Anguish contorts his handsome features, making him look almost unrecognizable. I reach up to caress his face, to ease the pain that’s latched itself in his eyes. Tears flood my eyes as I try to comprehend what just happened. “Harbor . . .” There’s no question or nothing to say. I just need to know he’s still with me.
He closes his eyes and slowly releases a long breath while tilting his face to the sky. The breath he takes comes easier. Looking back at me, he runs his hand over my cheek. “Don’t scare me like that again, baby.” There’s no anger in his tone, just concern and a dash of something unfamiliar.
We’re far enough away to keep us safe, so I grin. “I’ll do my best.” I’m still unsure what I saw down there . . . I know, but I don’t know if I’m right thinking about it, much less asking him.
“I need you to promise you’ll never come back here, not ever, Lark. Can you do that?” Holding my shoulders, he tightens his grip with each insistence. “Will you do that for me?”
I wrap my hands around his wrists, still staring into his eyes that now reflect a watery surface. “I promise.”
He nods as if that’s enough for him. Taking my hand, we walk to the car in silence. The quiet between us used to be something I was okay with. Now, lately, it feels different.Weare starting to feel different.And I don’t like it.
The wind picks up, so we hurry and hop inside the car. Harbor doesn’t rush to start it, but I’m ready to get out of here. I snap my seat belt and then sink against the seat. Closing my eyes, I wish this day away. It’s been horrible, and it’s not even two o’clock. “Can we go?” I ask, bordering on impatience.
He starts the car and shifts into gear. As soon as he pulls onto the road, I ask, “What just happened?”
Glancing at me quickly, he replies, “You got too close.”
Maybe it’s the tension between us, but the words hit me wrong. “To the cliff or to you?”
Emotion is lost in his eyes as he stares ahead at the road. Answered with silence again, I punch my fists against the seat beside my legs. “I’m too close to you, Harbor?” Staring right at him, I raise my voice when there’s no reaction. “Too clingy? What is it?”
He swerves the car to the left, cutting across the other lane to a picnic area a little distance from the cliffs. I hold the door to keep from banging into it. Slamming on the brakes, he shoves the gear into the park, and gets out of the car. “Fuck!” he shouts as loud as he can, storming away from me with his fisted hands punching the air at his sides. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.Fuck.”
I’ve never seen him so angry. Even when I pushed his buttons early on, he never got mad, not like this. I sit in the car, not sure what to do. Do I let him process as he has requested in the past, or do I force him to address the issue?
Something I’ve learned about Harbor is that he says he needs time, but when I’ve asked, he still opens up like it wasn’t time he needed but someone to be there for him.
I take a deep breath and open the car door. The anger I felt that caused him to pull over has subdued compared to before, and by the time I near Harbor, it’s gone altogether. His back is to me, his arms crossed over his chest. I approach, not so quietly, thinking it’s never a good idea to sneak up on someone, especially someone deep in thought as he appears to be.
Stopping to where I’m even with him, and our connection stretches between us, I whisper, “Harbor.” There’s no obligation to respond, just my heart speaking for me.
He looks at me.
I look at him, pleading with my eyes to understand what’s happening. I don’t see love in his eyes. I see defeat. It’s then that I realize how temporary we may be. “Harbor?” I press this time, needing to hear his voice, needing him to hold me and tell me it will be all right. I just don’t think he’s capable of it after what happened on the cliffs.
What did happen back there?
He had turned away briefly, but then he looks over at me. “What were you thinking?” He stalks toward me, but I don’t flinch like I did at one time. Not because he told me not to but because I know he won’t hurt me. “You could have slipped like you fucking did. The rocks could have given way, the wind blowing in the wrong direction, anything. Anything could have sent you over that cliff.”
“But it didn’t.” Then the image of what I saw on the ledge below comes back to me.
“You were lucky this time.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I snap back, “Guess you’re going to have to share the title.”
He spits in annoyance with a half smirk sitting on his face. “You want to know why I’m called lucky?”
My expression sours, and I roll my eyes. When they meet his again, I plant a hand on my hip. “Sure, I’ll bite,” I say, half-sarcastically and partly aggravated. “Why are you the lucky one, Harbor?”
