CHAPTER 7
Claire
I find Harvey in his room on Tuesday morning, looking lifeless in his bed.
He’s barely answering my questions or engaging with me at all. It’s impossible not to notice the massive shift in his mood.
There’s no way he’ll be able to train today, so I grab his gaming chair and sit on it, turning it around to face the bed. I make myself comfortable, putting my feet on the edge of his bed, watching him stare at the ceiling.
“What’s going on, Harvey?”
A minute passes, perhaps two. “Nothing.”
“Did you get in a fight with someone?” I ask, hoping for a glimpse into his somberness.
“No.”
“Well, okay,” I reply, feeling out of my depth. I stare at the hardcover book in my hand that I’ve wanted to reread lately.
Little Women.
I figured that it would help me kill time while Harvey stays in his room.
I open the book, the cover a beautiful pastel color, and flip through the beginning pages. When I reach the first chapter, I stare at Harvey with his eyes closed, his brow knitted tightly as if he’s in pain. Not the physical kind of pain, though there’s no doubt he deals with that too. But the kind of pain that makes it hard to talk, hard to breathe .
I don’t know what makes me do it. But randomly I start reading Little Women to him. His eyes fly open in an instant before they land on me, confusion written all over his face.
I expect him to beg me to stop, or worse, kick me out of his room.
Instead, he swallows, then looks back at the ceiling while I keep reading, hoping with all my might that perhaps this story will distract him from his melancholy.
When I finish the first chapter, I wonder if I should keep going. His eyes lock with mine, and I can’t help moving toward the bed, wanting to make things better for him.
“Harvey, please …I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong!”
He chuckles darkly. “You can’t help me, Claire. No one can.”
“Does Gemma know how bad your depressive episodes are?”
“She’s…seen them. Don’t tell anyone. The last thing I need is for Gemma to ask more questions instead of just listening .”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I stay quiet, playing with my fingers, staring at this man and seeing, really seeing, this side of him once more.
His skin is pale, and the bags under his eyes make him look sullen, void.
Despite that, my fingers are itching to push his hair back so I can see more of his pretty face.
“Why did you stop?”
“Hmm?” I shake out of my reverie. “What was that?”
“Keep reading. Your voice, it’s…soothing.”
I swallow, wishing to give him comfort in any way I can. Deep down, I’m chastising myself because I can feel myself crossing a professional line with him.
Yet I sit back on his chair and keep reading a few more chapters.
Because nothing else matters than my giving him a little moment of serenity.
Harvey’s been in a good mood today.
I’m not sure if it’s because PT has been going well the past three days or if it’s because of Gemma, but he’s seemed much happier.
I’m texting Audrey after Harvey and I spent some time outside around the firepit. I don’t have one at home, so it was nice to experience it. The burning wood aroma filters throughout the house, making this frigid day easier to bear.
“Do you want to keep reading Little Women ?” I ask him once we’re inside and he’s settled on the couch.
“ Little Women ?”
“The book I read to you…before.” I clear my throat, still standing and holding the book against my chest.
I can feel a rejection coming.
We haven’t spoken about his lying in bed all day Tuesday. The next day he seemed in a much better mood, and I didn’t want to impede the progress.
“Sure” is all he says.
I swallow, taking a seat on the other end of the couch. And I dive into this little world, chapter by chapter, occasionally stealing glances at Harvey.
“Beth dies, doesn’t she?” he mutters randomly.
“What makes you say that?” I ask, astonished he would predict that this early on.
“Because she’s nice and selfless.” He shrugs. “She seems to be the glue among the sisters, the levelheaded one, despite her retreating inward. Sometimes I feel like bad things often happen to good people.”
I swallow. “The same way it did to you?”
He stares at me then, and he seems shocked that we’re even discussing this, as if he’s wondering how the conversation ended up veering this way. “I mean, yeah…”
“Were you different before the accident?” I can’t help asking, wondering who he was before.
“I was.” He scoffs. “I was so happy.” He shakes his head. “I took everything lightly.”
“You were carefree,” I add.
He nods. “I had a good life. Anyway…” He sighs. “It’s just a hunch—about Beth. Keep reading, Claire.” He turns back around to face the TV, and I can’t help blushing at the quiet demand.
I get a hold of myself and continue on with the story, feeling so content and cozy. Eventually, I make myself comfortable on the couch with my legs out in front of me. I can steal more looks his way from this position.
“I just love this book!” I exclaim, finishing another chapter. “Who do you think Jo March will end up with?” I ask, referring to one of the main characters in the book.
“Anyone but Laurie,” he says as he stares at me with a lightness to him. A lightness I can’t help gravitating toward. “The guy’s a brat, and he’s bored.”
“Well, perhaps sometimes, but I mean—they’re teens. I think their character flaws humanize them.”
“Yeah, maybe,” he agrees.
“You know, I read this book in my teens.” My mind goes back to how it felt reading it for the first time. “I was so furious that Jo didn’t end up with Laurie.”
“Yeah,” he says. “Thanks for the spoiler.”
“Oh! I’m so sorry.” I shake my head, knowing I ruined it for him.
“Don’t be.” He shrugs. “And I don’t know, so far she doesn’t seem to view him that way. I think he’s being massively friend-zoned.”
“Yes, well, now that I’m older, I think Professor Bhaer was a decent fit. They complemented each other intellectually, and he was real and honest with her. My sister, on the other hand, thinks Jo should’ve married rich or stayed single.” I scoff, as if the former suited Jo in any way.
“Claire, I don’t really care about the story.”
“Oh,” I say, surprised. “So then why let me read it?”
Perhaps because there’s nothing else to do and we must find things to do. But as he turns his head and looks at me with a longing that shouldn’t be there, I know I’m wrong.
“It’s your voice I’m drawn to.” He faces the TV now, pushing his hair back, before he continues. “I like it when you read to me.” His voice is barely a whisper.
I want to lean closer to him or crawl, anything. Anything to be closer to him, to get a taste of him, anything to know more of what’s going on in that head of his.
“Harvey…” I swallow, and his eyes redirect to my parting lips. I’m not the only one affected as I notice his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
This will mess with my head for days to come. It’ll intrude on my dreams and every minute of daydreaming. Because if I can’t have Harvey in real life, I may as well have him somewhere.
And there . There’s the little truth I’ve been hoping to avoid.
“I’m starving,” Harvey says suddenly, ruining the moment.
I know he did it on purpose, and a part of me is grateful. I should really go home. In fact, my sister just texted asking if I’m eating at home for dinner. While I should, I also want to stay with Harvey.
“You want to order something?” I ask, knowing he’ll reject my invitation, knowing I shouldn’t be doing this, knowing he’s my patient and that he’s taken.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Will Gemma be home soon?”
“I don’t know. She’s clearly not here,” he says with a hint of annoyance.
Is that why he wants me to stay? To pass time or to anger Gemma?
He suggests a restaurant that has good steak, potatoes, and sauté vegetables, and despite my own warnings, I can’t help agreeing to the idea.
By the time the food arrives and we finish eating, I’m laughing as he recounts stupid stunts he used to pull with his friends. Before going too far down memory lane, though, I steer the topic to baking.
“You know what I’m craving right now? Cookies.”
“After this meal, really, Claire?”
“Hey…I have a sweet tooth sometimes, okay?”
He snorts. “Alright, let’s do it.”
I ask him to put on some music in the background. Then I bring the ingredients and baking tools needed to the table, and we set off to make a batch.
“Do you have plans with Gemma tonight?” I ask him as I put the solid ingredients into a large bowl.
“No…not that I know of. Do you have plans?”
“Not really, no. Perhaps spend time with my sister and my mom. Or read.”
“Your sister’s younger?”
I nod. “How did you know?”
He shrugs, passing me two eggs, then the vanilla extract. “Just a hunch.”
“She’s seventeen.” I start whisking the batter after pushing a tendril of hair behind my ear. “I guess, weirdly, I still view her as my baby sister.”
“I get that.”
“I’m very close to them…my mom and my sister,” I can’t help but add.
He looks away at the mention of my family, and I wonder if I’ve struck a nerve. I hear him talking on the phone often to whom I assume is his brother, and sometimes with his parents throughout the day.
“You and your brother are pretty close, I presume?”
“Yeah, definitely,” he mutters. “I don’t know what I’d do without him, honestly.”
I set my hand on top of his. “I’m sure you won’t have to find out.”
He stares at my hand as if I slapped his. I pull away and clear my throat, adding chocolate chips to the batter.
I’m such an idiot sometimes.
“So historical romance books, that’s your thing?” he inquires, and I’m relieved he didn’t remind me not to touch his hand.
I smile and nod. “Yes.”
“Ah.” He smirks. “The romantic type.”
I sigh. “Who doesn’t want love and respect and romance in their relationship?”
“Who doesn’t indeed? We all love chocolate and flowers,” he chimes in, no doubt mocking me.
“I love baked goods, and some flowers.” I shrug. “You’re missing the point, Harvey. Romance is about more than that.”
“Why don’t you enlighten me?”
“Alright.” I inhale deeply, noticing the way he watches my lips. “It’s about the little gestures done for each other…daily.”
“Like blowing him whenever he wants.”
“No!” I laugh, smacking his arm.
“Oh, come on, Claire, don’t be a prude.”
“I’m not! Just stop.” I chuckle, shaking my head.
We’re done prepping the cookies, and I take a spoonful of dough to taste.
“So, no boyfriend?”
His question surprises me, and it takes me a second to recover. “I had a long-distance relationship with a guy in college. My focus was on my studies and my family. Eventually, we grew apart, and the distance got to us.”
“I see.” Then he surprises me by digging a finger into the dough and putting it in his mouth. His moan of appreciation warms me up inside.
The air feels hot all of a sudden.
“This is good.”
“The best cookies in the world?” I tilt my head.
His smile could brighten people’s days. He should do it more often.
“Nah, I wouldn’t push it.”
“Harvey!” We’re chuckling by the time he presses the green button on his iPhone when Gemma FaceTimes him.
I rein in my laughter when he captures my face on the phone, trying to disguise my happiness.
I know we’re not doing anything wrong, but a part of me knows we’re not doing everything right either. We’re not on the most professional track. I’m crossing lines with him. Yet not one bone in my body wants to leave. I’m enjoying his company too much.
“Can you turn down the music?” The tension is almost palpable. I can tell from Gemma’s face, and Harvey’s response to it, that our night is over.
I head to the kitchen island to shut off the music on the portable speaker. When I come back to my seat and watch Harvey lick his fingers, I can see Gemma’s furious stare on the screen.
If looks could kill…
I hope I’m not getting fired.
“I’m… There’s a happy hour event after work. I thought I’d check it out this time.”
She doesn’t sound like she’s doing okay. Harvey doesn’t say anything either.
I feel bad. We’ve clearly ruined her night, or maybe it has nothing to do with us, so the least she should do is go out with her new coworkers.
I don’t think before I speak. Instead, I say, “Go! It’ll be fun. I don’t mind staying longer.”
My voice echoes in the background as I stare at Harvey, who nods as he tells Gemma that he’ll see her later.
And just like that, as he hangs up, I can sense the shift in his mood, and I don’t want to be caught in the crossfire.
“Why did you say you’ll stay longer, Claire?” I can sense his irritation in every cell of my body. “I don’t need you to constantly watch over me.”
“I know.” I swallow. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”
“Either way,” he continues, “you shouldn’t even be staying late, and we both know it.”
“Is this because of Gemma?” I clear my throat. “Or because you think I’m staying after hours just for work?”
“It doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t be here.”
I don’t know if I’m responsible for his mood or if Gemma is, as he often seems angry in her presence. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s going out for drinks after work? I don’t know. But he’s pissed off.
“You’re right. What am I even doing?” I shake my head, heading to the sink to clean my hands and give my beating heart a break. “Honestly, every time things aren’t going well with Gemma, you take out your frustration on me.”
“That’s not true,” he says, eyes wide.
“Well, it sure seems like it,” I reply, drying my hands with a towel. “Whatever issues you have, work them out with her because I don’t deserve your wrath. And don’t worry, I got your message loud and clear. I won’t stay late again.”
“No, Claire.” He looks at me in a panic.
I head to the dining table to fetch the baking bowl. “We can bake these another time.” I lift the bowl, knowing it’s a lie, as it’s Friday and I won’t see him for a few days.
He shakes his head. “It takes, what, twenty minutes? It’s fine.” He seems close to losing it, so close to the edge. I feel like it’s my cue to leave. “Claire, you can bake your cookies. I want some too.”
“No, Harvey…” I want him to want me to stay and not out of pity.
“ Please ,” he begs softly.
“Oh, alright,” I tell him before putting the cookies on the baking sheet and then in the oven. I clear my throat when I turn around, crossing my arms, not knowing what else to say. “You’re right though. She didn’t seem happy… I shouldn’t have stayed.”
He shakes his head, pulling a chunk of his blond hair. “Don’t say that. I was just mad. Besides, you’re…doing your job.”
“Am I really?” I fire back.
His eyes dart straight to mine as if he wants to know my every waking thought, as if he wants to know that I enjoy being around him.
“You tell me,” he mutters.
I swallow, not knowing how to answer him. “I…enjoy your company, Harvey.”
“Call me Harv,” he says, looking away, making my night with his comment.
A few weeks ago, Harvey wasn’t in my life, and now I can’t imagine how I would feel if Gemma ensured I got fired and couldn’t see him anymore.
Despite his moody self, little by little, the pieces of him are coming together, and I’m liking them.
Even I know how ridiculous this is.
I barely know him.
Yet he’s hot and witty and outspoken, and his smile is… argh .
When the cookies are finally ready, we don’t hesitate to dig in.
“I take it back… These are really good, maybe even the best I’ve ever tasted.” Harvey dips his cookie into a glass of milk.
I simply smile. And as I receive five more texts from Audrey, I know it’s time to go home. Time to leave this man behind with his own girlfriend. The thought hurts, but it’s reality.
The time to face the music always comes.
I tell him that I’ll head out, and he nods, coaxing me to take most of the cookies with me.
I do so gladly, knowing that Audrey will devour them.
When I get home, Audrey jumps for the bag of cookies. By the time I remove my boots and coat, she’s already eating her second one.
“You were out late,” my sister states with zero care.
“Yeah, I was with Harvey.”
I don’t elaborate, but my mom’s eyebrows raise and her lips thin. I can tell already that she doesn’t agree, yet knowing her, she won’t judge my choices.
“Is he old?” my sister asks.
“No, we’re close in age.”
“Oh,” she says. “Color me curious. Is he cute?”
I feel the heat rise in my cheeks. “Well, yes.”
“Ohhhh, I see. Well, thanks for the cookies.”
When she leaves us to do God knows what, my mom pauses her book club video on YouTube and angles her body toward me.
“You seem a little different lately.”
“Do I?” I bite my inner cheek, looking for the perfect cookie to grab from the bag.
“Claire…”
“Yes, Mom?”
“I thought you said he has a girlfriend.”
I nod, wiping crumbs from my lips once I’ve had a taste. “Indeed he does.” I shrug. “There’s nothing going on between us.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing. A lot of people could end up getting hurt, along with your career.”
I nod, her words causing a wave of worries inside me.
I mean, I know that this is what I signed up for, but that was before I got to know him a little more as I spent my days with him.
I like Harvey. At the very least, I can admit that.
So perhaps I have a crush on him, a little one, so what? It’s not the end of the world. It’s not as if I’m going to act on it.
I wouldn’t do that to Gemma nor myself.
I would never turn into my dad.
I understand where my mom is coming from, and her fears. But I’m old enough to make my own decisions, and I know what I’m doing.
“He’s my patient. That’s all there is to it.” I don’t know if I’m lying to her or to myself.
“If you say so,” she says, tapping my arm with her hand, shooting me a dubious glance.
Harv.
The nickname puts a smile on my face, and my mom catches the brief gesture.
It’s not like I should feel special. I’m sure everyone, including Gemma, calls him by that name. But the fact that he wants me to do so as well…
At the very least, perhaps we can be friends.
My mom continues her video, and I’m grateful. I stuff one last cookie in my mouth while I reminisce on my night with him.