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My shoulders sag. “He only believed me because Hayden confirmed it. Otherwise, he’d still hate me.” That hurt.
“A lot happened. He must have been so confused. Yes, he should have believed you—trustedyou. He made a mistake. In time, I’m sure he would have seen the truth.”
Would he have? I’m not so sure. Maybe if I had been the one to tell him from the start, things might have turned out differently. I’ve gone over and over it in my mind dozens of times.
Playing the ‘what if’ game is driving me nuts. What if I wasn’t so harsh on him? What if I’d accepted his apology and put the trust issue behind us? I could play that game all day every day, but it still won’t change the outcome. Finn is in London. He didn’t stay and fight.
Because I didn’t let him.
Chapter Forty-Three
FINN
Onmydesk,myphone beeps with a message. I glance at it. It’s another text from my father. He’s been texting or calling every week since I confronted him about his affairs, the night my mother died, and how he threw Harper into his mess. I’d hoped once he moved into hischâteauin France, he’d stop calling. No such luck.
I have nothing more to say to him. Because of him, I’ve lost Harper. No, I can’t blame him entirely. I screwed up. I accused her of having an affair. I didn’t believe her when she told me the truth. Now I’m paying the price. Life isn’t the same without her. I don’t want to go out and see people. London looks grayer than normal. Not even throwing myself into work has helped me forget her. All I see when I close my eyes at night is her beautiful, smiling face. Hear her soft laughter.
Once I thought London was the only place I wanted to be. The only place that made me happy. How wrong was I? My place—myheart—is with Harper.Shemakes me happy. If only I had acted differently.Believedher. We’d still be together.
Picking up my phone, I delete my father’s message without even reading it. Then I select Harper’s name. It’s been a month since I last spoke to her. Saw her. Touched her. So many times, I’ve wanted to call her to hear her voice. I rub a hand over my chest. A constant ache lived under my ribs. I’m so mad at myself for fucking up the only good thing in my life. I want a connection with her again—need it. I type a message and hit send before I can stop myself.
Me: I miss you.
Will she answer? Probably not. Maybe she’ll delete it without reading it.
The three dots appear on the screen telling me she’s typing. I hold my breath. Then the dots disappear. I exhale with disappointment. The dots reappear. Again, I hold my breath.
Harper: I miss you too.
A huge, relieved grin spreads across my face. It’s not a declaration of love, but she didn’t tell me to fuck off and leave her alone. I clutch my phone in my hand. My only connection to Harper—I want to keep it close.
For the next week, at the same time each day, I send Harper the exact message.
Me: I miss you.
And every time, the three dots appear, disappear, and reappear before she replies. Like she is hesitating on whether she should hit send.
On the seventh day, when I send the text, I get a different response.
Me: I miss you.
Harper: What are we doing?
My finger hovers above the screen before typing.
Me: I’m not sure. All I know is that I miss you.
Dots…Dots…Dots…
Harper: I miss you too.
Whatarewe doing? How long will we send each other messages? If it means keeping Harper in my life in some small way, I’ll do it for as long as she’ll let me. My place is with Harper.She makes me happy. She is home.Words I often think ricochet through my mind.Home. Conjuring up memories of a little slice of paradise where we lay on the spongy grass by the lake, soaking up the sun, planning our futures together. When young love was simple with no complications. A place that always made Harper happy.
Hitting the intercom on the desk, I call for my assistant to come into my office.
Marie scuttles in the room, notepad ready. A look of fear on her face. God, my foul mood has scared the staff. I’ll have to do something nice to apologize—maybe give her a few days off to make up for being such a jerk.
“Marie, can you please look up the name Judith Richardson?” And I give her all the information I know about her, which isn’t much.
