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As I see the pain in his eyes as he tells me the truth, mine begin to water. “Not if I had a say.”
“I know. When my parents agreed, I made sure all the pieces were in place—”
His words come back again, and I say, “It was the perfect plan, and it worked.” Silence seeps in as we look into each other’s eyes. “Was the pain worth it to be here now?”
“Yes,” he answers with no doubt in his eyes. “Your happiness means more than anything else to me. If I can play a part in it, I’ll do it all over again.”
“I want to be with you, but . . .” I kiss him and then rest my head on his shoulder. “I need you to promise me you’ll never leave me again, Harbor.”
Grazing his hand over my cheek, he says, “I’m never leaving you again, baby.”
48
Lark
Three months later. . .
Harbor movedmy stuff into the apartment the week after we had sex . . .I mean, after we got back together.But the sex was pretty damn amazing.Still is.
I also realized my love for him had never truly faded. It had only been hidden by stormy clouds. It’s so easy to love Harbor—then and now—but loving him in the aftermath of the storm we survived, our love has grown even deeper than I thought possible.
There are no benefits to living in the past when there’s so much happiness to be found in the here, the now, and in the future together. But sometimes, life still throws a curveball . . .
The cute two-room plus terrace apartment he owns just so happens to sit on top of a three-thousand-square-foot penthouse he also owns. I found out that our apartment is an addition he built onto the rooftop deck.
We have plenty of time to move downstairs and eventually start a family. We’re still young and want to enjoy this stage of our lives. I ideally want to get through my residency as well, but my priorities are shifting enough to think about starting a family with him.
Harbor’s still just as busy building his company as I have been with my shifts, so there’s a lot to consider before diving into the next stage. Bonus, I love watching him work. Watching him in action is a glorious sight to behold. He didn’t just tap into a market. He tapped into his passion, and I couldn’t be more proud of him.
So although it’s a stunning apartment and a veryPride and Prejudiceending for a fairy tale, I prefer our love nest for the two of us—the soft as a cloud bed and the large terrace where he set up a movie screen for us to watch the Yankees kick ass all season. There’s just something about being in close quarters filled with our love.
How could I not be wildly in love with him? Harbor gave up everything for me. He doesn’t see it that way, though, and he once said, “I got a life in exchange, the one I wanted, instead of my cousin’s.” My heart is full knowing he’s pursuing his dreams and I get to bear witness.
Despite the hurdles we’ve covered, the next obstacle shows up in the form of an invitation. There’s no return address to give me insight before opening. Just a handwritten letter without postage left with security downstairs in the lobby.
I flip it over several times like I might get a hint because it’s so odd and kind of unsettling that it was hand-delivered. Setting it down, I wait for Harbor to come home.
Not an hour later, I hear the alarm’s quick beat pattern from the bath, and call out, “I’m in here.”
It takes him a minute to make his way back to the bathroom. Harbor may be wealthy beyond reason, but his habits would fit a simpler life. He likes routine. Don’t get me wrong, though, because he has a fantastic spontaneous streak. Once my schedule became more predictable, we could plan our time together better. We got out at least once or twice a week, especially if it’s to meet with his clients and their significant others. But most nights we prefer to eat here, cook together, or if it’s been a day,which happens, order in.
He’s been known to surprise me with a quick trip here and there. What’s the point of having all that money if you never enjoy it? When I’m in my own practice, I plan to surprise him in return.
With my head rested back and my eyes closed, I can see him dropping his keys in the bowl by the door, setting any packages we received on the island, and then stripping off his suit jacket as he works his way to the bedroom.
I open my eyes just as he leans against the doorway, unbuttoning his sleeves and rolling them up.This man . . .He’s like the gift that keeps giving. I ask, “How was your day?”
“Better now that I’m seeing you.” He comes over to bend down and kiss me. “How was yours?”
“Indulgent. I never know what to do on my days off, so I stayed in bed most of the day. I caught up on sleep, did a little reading, and watched a movie. Uneventful.”
“Sounds full.” He then asks, “What’s the letter on the counter?”
“I don’t know. I was waiting for you to get home to open it.”
He crosses his arms over his chest and leans his bicep on the doorframe. “Why?”
“Just wanted you here. Do you want to grab it?”
