Page 77 of Even After This
I look back over my shoulder for pedestrians and catch his gaze. “And?”
“And that makes you ... refreshing.”
I am so zeroed in on getting ready to reverse the car, I don’t notice him closing the gap between us. I turn my head and his face is an inch from mine. “Oh.”
He pulls back and glances to my lips. “Olivia is financially conniving. It gets exhausting.”
If he had punched me in the stomach, it would have felt better.
No. No, I counter myself. The hit to the gut is good. I needed a reality check.
“I’m sorry about that.” My voice sounds flatter than I want it to be. I adjust the rearview mirror and put my hand on the gearshift.
Harlan covers my hand with his and stops the reverse motion. “Hey. Are you okay?”
“Fine.” I force my brightest smile.
“Meredith.” Concern etches his face, and he squeezes my hand. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I need to get back to my family, and you need to get back to yours.” Tears sting my nose.
“I need to—” He stares out the front of the car for a long moment, then back to me. “Why do I have the feeling no one in your family knew I might come today?”
My face fills with heat, and those stupid, stupid tears threaten to spill. I shrug and turn to look out the driver’s side window.
He leans over and angles himself to me. “Did you not think I was coming?”
I curl a strand of hair around my ear. “How would I haveknown you were coming?” My quivering voice does nothing to help my effort to appear casual.
“How would you have—” Harlan slams his body back into the seat. “Because I told you I was coming. That’s how we left things. I was coming for Thanksgiving.”
“That’s how we left things? On Sunday,this week, you said you didn’t know if you could make it.” A tear escapes and I quickly wipe it away.
“Yes.” His hand swoops through the air. “But on Sunday I also told you to assume I was coming unless you heard otherwise. That I thought I could work it out.That’show we left things.”
My face is on fire for a different reason now. “Harlan, I barely heard from you for six weeks. How was I supposed to know what you were thinking?”
He shakes his head. “Sweetheart, I told you this shoot was going to be intense and you might not hear from me much. In the middle of it all, I had some unexpected travel ... There was just a lot going on. But I’m confused.” He turns to take my hands in his. “I thought we were on the same page.”
“Harlan, I heard your words.” I huff. “But I mean, what woman thinks a guy is still interested when all he gives her are a few voicemails, texts, and conversations that don’t last more than ten minutes?”
“But I sent you a blanket,” he says.
My indignation deflates some at the mention of his incredibly thoughtful gift on Chloe’s birthday. “You did,” I say quietly. “And I truly appreciated it. I just found the rest of your actions really confusing.”
“But that’s how we left things. At the hotel. I told you to trust me.”
I pull my hands back. “It was, Harlan. It’s how we left things. And for seven glorious minutes, I thought I could do it. Right up until I ran back into the hotel to go to the bathroom and I saw you holding Olivia.” The last few words are pushed through a tremble, and two more tears escape.
Harlan closes his eyes. “Olivia.” The guttural word is said like a curse. He rubs his hands over his face.
I swipe away tears and release a breath. My body mirrors his, and we both stare out the front of the car in silence.
“I was ecstatic, Meredith. You got on that shuttle, and I felt hope I haven’t felt in a long time. And then my feet hit the lobby. Olivia was there, tears streaming down her face, holding our daughter.” He shakes his head. “Her dad had just gotten a terminal pancreatic cancer diagnosis.”
A pit forms in my stomach.
“I make it a point to interact with Olivia as little as possible,” he says. “But Alex’s PawPaw was sick. And in the moment you saw, I had to make a choice to support my daughter by supporting her mother.”
