Letting Go (19 page)

As t
he door opened, her eyes fell on Harper.

“
Jamie returned home,” he said.

“Oh.
I came to return his books,” she said lamely.

Harper
’s shirt was unbuttoned, his hair was damp on his forehead. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, grey cargo pants riding low on his hips. He looked good. And that messed with her head. And her heart, because seeing him now hurt more than she’d anticipated. She kept thinking that if she’d acted differently, chosen her words more carefully, he could’ve been greeting her with a smile and a kiss. Instead, she’d lost him.

She
lost her courage to talk to him. She wanted to hand the books to Harper and leave.

“Could you
return these …?” she started.

“Come in?” he said softly.

Something in her stomach moved. She guessed it was butterflies taking flight. She thought she should leave. What good it would do to talk to him now, almost three months after their road trip? It would stir more of the pain back to life.

“Thanks.”

He led her through the house and into the shady backyard.

“Lemonade?”
Harper offered.

“Yes, please,” she said
, amused that he’d offered lemonade and not a beer.

While h
e went inside to get their drinks, she enjoyed the slight breeze that hit her back like an icepack. Her camisole fluttered around her and Isabelle closed her eyes from relief. It was weird being back here, she thought. She’d gotten to know this house in Jamie’s company; she had never been alone with Harper here. Everything felt different. Like the house itself had changed in the past few weeks. Funny, how we see things the way we are, not the way they are, Isabelle thought. She turned when she heard Harper behind her.

She took the glass
he offered. Their fingers touched and broke apart, but the sensation lingered. She joined him on the back steps.

“So, you graduated, huh? You’re all grown
-up now.”

She didn’t know what to say.

He looked at her sideways. “I’m sorry Jamie isn’t here.”

She
avoided his eyes. She pressed the glass against her cheek. She nearly moaned from the cool pleasure. Then she heard Harper chuckle beside her.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He grinned. He leaned his back onto the railing so he was facing her. His eyes were hooded, like he was assessing her. It unsettled her when he looked at her like that. She never knew whether she passed his examination or not.

“Going to study art, then?” he said.

She nodded.

“Where?”

“Yale. You?”

“My study years
are long over.”

“I meant, will you stay here or will you move back home now that
Jamie left?”

“I haven’t yet decided.”

She wished his decision would have to do with whether she stayed. God, did she wish that.

“
Jamie and I had a long conversation after that road trip,” Harper said.

“I hope he didn’t punch you. He’d threatened to do it.”

“He tried.” Harper grinned. Then he continued, “You told him that Dad threw me out.”

“Wasn’t I supposed to? It didn’t seem fair that he blamed you for everything.”

“Thanks.”

At first she thought he was being sarcastic and her heart fell. But his eyes, staring at her, were
not unkind.

“You’re welcome.”

“I lost the girl, but at least I got my brother back. That’s something, I guess.”

“If you’d have wanted the girl
, you would have called,” Isabelle said, frowning. His behavior, his words, everything was confusing her. She’d come here to say goodbye, to get rid of the longing to be with him, to find closure. Instead, his words and behavior gave her false hope.

When Harper next spoke, he seemed puzzled, too. “I thought you hated me.”

“I wouldn’t have kissed you if I had hated you.”

“I meant afterwards.
Because
we kissed. Because it ruined what you had with Jamie. I thought …”

Isabelle was trying to sort out her feelings and Harper’s words at the same time. But it was an overload for her aching heart.

“I never hated you,” she said. “I was angry with you, at some point. I was confused. But I never hated you.”

“You didn’t?” Isabelle couldn’t tell whether he seemed hopeful or
just surprised. And she hated not knowing.

“Why didn’t you ever call?” She sounded more aggressive than she intended to. But she’d been silent one time too many
; she couldn’t keep quiet again.

“I didn’t know that you wanted me to.” Harper got up and walked to the hedge surrounding the backyard.
She was annoyed when he turned his back to her.

Getting up, she said, “But I broke up with Jamie, didn’t I?”

He turned to look at her. “So? You never called either. You told me that you didn’t want me after … everything happened.”

Did she? She couldn’t remember what she’d said or hadn’t said. It had been a
hectic, emotionally draining time, and it was all a bit of a blur now.

“You could’ve called and asked
how I felt,” Isabelle said and threw her hands in the air, exasperated.

Harper made several quick steps towards her, scowling as he said through his teeth, “Asked? You mean begged? Like I begged Dad to help me get clean? Like I begged Jamie to believe me?
The only thing I get when I beg is I get humiliated and disappointed. I may love you, Isabelle, but I won’t beg. I made a promise to myself; I would never beg again.”

Isabelle stumbled backwards into the
porch railing and grabbed it for support. Harper’s words shook her. Her fingers trembled and she grasped the wrought iron to steady herself. She knew she should think about the hurt that she’d caused him, rejecting him the same way his family had rejected him over and over again. Briefly, the image of Harper in his dad’s study, sobbing for help, flickered through her brain, barely registering because her mind was otherwise occupied. All she could think about was that he loved her. Harper loved her.

“You love me?” she breathed.

“What?”

She caught him unprepared. He frowned, visibly backtracking to what he’d said
.

“You said you loved me,” Isabelle repeated, sounding
stupidly delirious, but also afraid that maybe she read too much into it. That maybe he didn’t mean it. Maybe he had felt like that three months ago, but it was long gone now.

“Of course I love you. You sound surprised,” Harper said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It
wasn’t that obvious to her. Besides, it sounded heart-warming, Harper admitting to his feelings.

“I didn’t think …” she started and then cleared her throat. “Well, you said you
liked me, but …”

“I’ve liked you since the first time we met. When we danced, I thought there was a slight chance that you might like me back.”

“I thought I had been so rude that you wouldn’t speak to me again,” she smiled, feeling a pleasant tiredness overwhelming her body. It had been a long day, filled with unexpected encounters and revived emotions—emotions that she had planned on burying deep inside and forgetting about.

“You were, but I think that’s why I fell for you.”

She frowned, shaking her head with incomprehension.

“You were tempted to go with me, I could tell. Maybe for the tiniest second, but you were. And rather than give in, you did what you thought was the right thing to do. You put Jamie first, not yourself. And you did it again and again on the ride home.”

“Yeah, but I gave in in the end,” she sighed.

She could feel him go tense, standing
so close to her, but before she could set things right, he said, “You sound disappointed.” His eyes were colder, sharper, when he searched her face.

This time she thought before she spoke. “I’m sad that it happened the way it did, with Jamie. I wish it were less painful for him. That’s all.
”

He didn’t speak right away
. Instead he took a sip of his drink, staring somewhere behind her.

“But you don’t regret it?”

Isabelle sighed.

“No. I don’t.”

At first she thought it was the breeze that ruffled her camisole, until she felt Harper’s warm fingers sliding up her side. She felt gooseflesh form on her skin. His touch was so slow and sensuous it was driving her crazy. She was jealous of all the girls before her that had taught him to be this good.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she said with a lazy voice, just so she said something to cover how flustered she was from his touch.

“Do you want me to stop?” Harper’s voice was sweet and dark and rich like molasses.

He got her there. She opened her mouth and closed it again. His tiny laugh sent blood to her cheeks.

“Oh, kiss me already,” she huffed, her cheeks burning.

The End

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