Chapter 40
FORTY
It had been a few days since Harper’s father showed up at her door like some harbinger of family drama, and I was still watching her like she might shatter at any moment.
Not that she’d admit to being shaken.
Harper had thrown herself into finals prep with the kind of focus that would’ve impressed me if it didn’t worry me so much.
She’d spent the last couple of days color-coding study schedules, reorganizing her already pristine notes, and practicing her violin until her fingertips were raw.
All while carefully avoiding any conversation about her dad or what he’d said.
But I’d caught her staring off into space during our psychology study sessions, her pen hovering over her notebook without writing anything.
I’d seen her flinch when her phone buzzed with notifications she never seemed to check anymore.
And I’d noticed the way she’d curl into my side when we were watching TV, holding on to me like I might disappear.
The worst part was knowing her dad’s poison had worked its way under her skin.
She hadn’t said anything directly, but I could feel the questions lurking behind her careful smiles.
The way she’d watch me when she thought I wasn’t looking, like she was trying to solve some puzzle she couldn’t quite figure out.
It worried me more than I’d admitted to her.
I was falling hard for her, and I couldn’t bear the thought of her believing that I’d ever do anything to hurt her.
So I’d spent all my time being extra careful with her. Gentle touches, reassuring words, making sure she knew exactly where she stood with me. We’d found our rhythm again, but it felt too fragile.
“You’re overthinking again,” Harper said without looking up from her psychology textbook.
We were spread out across my living room floor, surrounded by textbooks, highlighters, and enough coffee cups to fuel a small army.
Rory was napping in her Pack ’n Play beside the couch, and I couldn’t focus on my work because my brain kept veering off to worries about Harper.
“I’m not overthinking,” I said, though I definitely was. “I’m concentrating on our presentation.”
She snorted. “You’ve been staring at the same slide for ten minutes.”
I glanced down at my laptop. She was right. I’d been stuck on our opening slide while my brain spiraled through worst-case scenarios about Harper’s emotional state.
“Just not sure this is the right font.” It was a weak deflection, but I went with it anyway.
Harper finally looked up, and the knowing expression on her face told me she wasn’t buying it. “Drew.”
The way she said my name—patient but tired of me worrying about her—made me close my laptop and give her my full attention.
“I’m fine,” she said before I could ask. “I promise. This thing with my dad is hard, but I’m okay. We’re okay.”
I wanted to believe her. Mostly, I did believe her. But despite her words, she still seemed more fragile since her dad’s visit, and I wanted to wrap her up and hide her from anyone who might hurt her again.
“If you insist.” I reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “But if you need to talk about any of it—”
“I don’t.” The quickness of her response confirmed my suspicions that she was still processing everything, especially when she refused to look at me while she said it. “Right now, I need to focus on finals. On our presentation and normal college stuff.”
“Okay,” I said, picking up my laptop again. “Normal college stuff it is.”
We worked in companionable silence for another hour, the kind of peaceful productivity that had become one of my favorite things about us.
Harper highlighted passages and made notes in her neat handwriting, while I organized our presentation slides and tried not to get distracted by the way she chewed her bottom lip when she was concentrating.
Rory woke up a little later, and I was in the middle of feeding her when my phone buzzed with a text from Ava.
Ava
Can I come over? Need to talk to you about something.
I frowned at the message. Ava didn’t usually ask permission to come over—she just showed up.
Me
Sure. We’re just studying. Everything ok?
Ava
Be there in 10
It made me nervous that she didn’t respond to my question about if everything was okay. My twin senses were tingling, but I couldn’t pinpoint what felt off.
“Ava’s coming over,” I told Harper, settling Rory in my lap. “Probably wants to steal the baby again.”
Harper smiled, the first genuinely relaxed expression I’d seen from her all day. “Can’t blame her. This one’s pretty irresistible.” She reached over to stroke Rory’s cheek, and my daughter immediately turned toward her touch, babbling away.
The sight of them together still did things to my chest that I wasn’t entirely ready to examine. Harper had integrated into our little family unit so seamlessly that sometimes I forgot there had ever been a time when she wasn’t part of it.
Every day with Harper made me regret all the days I’d spent fighting with her. Could we have had this sooner if we’d just pulled our heads out of our asses earlier?
When Ava knocked ten minutes later, I was expecting her usual whirlwind entrance. Instead, she slipped inside quietly, her face unusually serious.
“Hey,” she said, glancing between Harper and me. “How’s the studying going?”
“Good,” Harper answered when I didn’t immediately respond. Ava’s expression was setting off alarm bells in my head. She held herself stiffly and wouldn’t make direct eye contact with me. “We’re almost done with our presentation prep.”
“That’s great.” Ava sat down on the edge of the couch, her movements careful in a way that reminded me of how people acted around explosive devices. “So, um, I need to tell you guys something.”
The bottom of my stomach fell out. I fucking knew something was wrong. “What happened?”
Ava’s gaze flicked to Harper, then back to me. “I was on the phone with Mom earlier, and we were just talking about the usual stuff and, um…” She paused, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “And I might have mentioned how happy I am that you and Harper are together.”
Fuck. “Ava.”
“I know, I know!” She held up her hands defensively.
“I didn’t mean to! It just slipped out. Mom was talking about how different you seem lately, how much more settled and she thought it was fatherhood—which to be fair did settle you down a lot—but that’s when I slipped and mentioned Harper.
And there was no way to backtrack. You know Mom’s like a shark when there’s blood in the water, and I think she was already suspicious after that dinner when Harper stopped by. ”
Harper had gone completely still beside me, her face pale. “What did she say?”
“She went quiet for a really long time,” Ava said, her voice small. “Then she started asking questions. A lot of questions. About how serious you two are, and whether Dad knows, and if you’ve thought about what this means for the family.”
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “And?”
“I fucked up.” Ava’s shoulders sagged. “So bad.”
When she finally met my eyes, I knew it was about to get worse. “How bad?” I asked, though I suspected I already knew the answer.
Ava’s face crumpled. “Dad’s on his way here.”
“How long do we have?” Harper’s voice was steady, but I could hear the undercurrent of panic.
“Maybe thirty minutes at most?” Ava checked her phone. “Dad speeds when he’s angry.”
I stood up, still holding Rory, my mind racing through options. “Okay. Harper, you should probably—”
“I’m not leaving.”
“Harper—”
“I’m not leaving,” she repeated, louder this time. “I spent the last few days dealing with my father’s disapproval, and I’m not going to hide from yours either.”
“This isn’t the same thing,” I said, panic creeping into my voice. “My dad isn’t just going to yell and leave. He’s going to—”
“What? Forbid you from seeing me?” Harper’s laugh was bitter. “Try to break us up? Threaten to cut you off?”
The accuracy of her predictions made my stomach churn. “Yes. All of that.”
“Then we’ll deal with it together.” She stood up, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m not running away, Drew.”
Part of me wanted to argue with her, to make her see that facing my father’s wrath wasn’t worth it, especially after what she’d already dealt with from her own father.
But the larger part of me—the part that had fallen completely head over heels for this stubborn, beautiful woman—felt a surge of pride and gratitude so strong it nearly knocked me over.
“Are you sure?” I asked, even though I could see the determination written across every line of her body. I would take this hit for us if she wanted to avoid this mess.
“I’m sure.”
Ava looked between us with wide eyes. “This is either really romantic or really stupid.”
“Probably both,” I admitted.
Before anyone could respond, the sound of a car door slamming outside made us all freeze.
“Shit,” Ava whispered. “That’s him.”
I glared at her. “So much for a thirty-minute heads-up.”