16. Cassidy
CASSIDY
I threw the tampon wrapper in the bin next to the toilet and slammed the lid shut.
Then I trudged back to the living room, my feet heavy with disappointment. Another month, another failure. The sofa beckoned, and I sank onto it, grabbing a cushion and hugging it tight to my chest.
The first tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it. Then another. And another. Soon, they were falling silently, soaking into the fabric of the cushion.
I’d been so hopeful this time. Harle and I had timed everything perfectly. We’d followed all the advice, all the tips and tricks. But here I was, right back where I started.
Harle. Sweet, kind Harle with his Viking good looks and gentle soul. The way he’d looked at me that night we’d kissed. Then the next day. God, I wanted to call him. To hear his voice, to let him comfort me.
But I couldn’t. This wasn’t his burden to bear. He was just the donor, not my partner. Not my boyfriend. Not my anything, really.
I squeezed the cushion tighter, trying to fill the emptiness inside me. The house felt too quiet, too still. Like it was mocking me with its emptiness, reminding me of all the little feet and giggles that I wanted to fill it with.
How many more months could I do this? How many more disappointments could I take? The doubt crept in, as it always did in these moments. Maybe this wasn’t meant to be.
I’d been too chicken shit to text Harle after that day and now I didn’t know what to do. Fuck, it was all so hopeless. I was hopeless. Just couldn’t get any fucking thing right.
I buried my head in the cushion and let out a proper sob. The floodgates opened, and I cried like I hadn’t in years. Ugly, heaving sobs that shook my whole body. I didn’t care how I looked or sounded. There was no one here to see me fall apart.
The shrill ring of my phone cut through my misery, making me jump. I fumbled for it blindly, not bothering to check who was calling. Anything to distract me from this pit of despair.
“Hello?” My voice came out thick and watery.
“Cass? Are you okay?”
Fuck. I pulled my phone away to check the screen. Harle. Of course it was Harle. His deep, concerned voice sent a fresh wave of emotion through me.
“I’m fine,” I lied, sniffling pathetically.
“You don’t sound fine, so I’m going to go ahead and assume there’s no luck this month, either.”
“You would be assuming correctly.” Hiccup.
“Stay put. I’m coming over.”
“You don’t have to?—”
The line went dead before I could finish the sentence. Under any other circumstances, that would have made me smile, but not today. Instead, I lay down on my side, pulling my knees up and hugging the pillow as I let the tears flow.
He must have been in the neighborhood, because it wasn’t long before I heard the rumble of Harle’s truck pulling into my driveway, but I couldn’t muster the energy to move. The cushion was damp against my face, and I knew I must look a mess. But I was too far gone to care.
The front door opened without a knock. Harle’s heavy footsteps echoed through the house, heading straight for me. I squeezed my eyes shut, not ready to face him or his kindness.
The couch dipped as he sat down next to me. A warm, calloused hand rested on my shoulder.
“Oh, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice low and gentle.
I curled tighter into myself, fresh tears leaking out. “I’m sorry,” I choked out. “I can’t seem to get my shit together.”
“You’re allowed to lose your shit.”
God, why did he have to be so sweet? I sniffled, finally turning my head to look at him. Harle’s blue eyes were filled with concern, his brow furrowed. He looked like he wanted to gather me up in his arms, but was holding himself back.
“It’s never going to happen, is it?” I whispered, voicing my deepest fear.
Harle’s expression softened. “I don’t know the answer to that. But I do know something.”
“What’s that?”
“There’s a really great bar in Plymouth, that sells killer buffalo wings. Half price on Fridays. How about you wash up and we head over there? Blow off some steam?”
I blinked at him, his suggestion slowly sinking in through the fog of my misery. “A bar? Harle, I’m a mess. I can barely keep it together right now.”
“That’s exactly why you need this. Sitting here alone isn’t helping, darlin’. And I happen to know for a fact that buffalo sauce is scientifically proven to be impossible to eat while crying.
Part of me wanted to burrow deeper into my couch and never come out. But another part, a tiny voice in the back of my head, whispered that maybe he was right.
The alternative was sitting here alone, watching true crime documentaries and spiraling into an internet rabbit hole about fertility statistics. Yeah, no. Maybe what I needed right now wasn’t to wallow in my misery, but to remember that life went on despite disappointments. I glanced around my living room, the quiet suddenly suffocating.
Even the awkwardness of being around Harle after… everything… had to be better than drowning in my own thoughts. It was a chance to forget about my failures for a few hours and just be normal.
My voice was still a bit shaky when I said, “You know what? That sounds great.”
The smile Harle gave me had my heartbeat skittering. “Yeah?”
I nodded, pushing myself up from the couch. My legs felt a bit wobbly, but I managed to stand. “Just give me a few minutes to clean up. I probably look like a raccoon right now.”
Harle chuckled. “A very cute raccoon.”
I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. “What’s the dress code for this place?”
“Your jeans and a nice top will be fine,” Harle assured me. “It’s pretty casual.”
Thank fuck. I definitely didn’t have the energy for anything fancy. “Perfect. I’ll be right back.”
As I headed to the bathroom to freshen up, I felt a spark of excitement. Maybe this was exactly what I needed.
Thirty minutes later, we were on the road.
I glanced across at Harle, who looked pretty relaxed considering the last time we saw each other, he’d confessed to wanting to fuck me. His large hands rested easily on the steering wheel, his profile illuminated by the passing streetlights. How could he be so calm?
My stomach twisted into knots. The memory of that moment outside his house flashed through my mind. The intensity in his eyes, the raw desire in his voice. I shifted in my seat, suddenly hyper-aware of how close we were in the confined space of his truck.
For the life of me, I couldn’t think of a single topic of conversation, so we took the drive in silence.
Until we were pulling into a concrete parking lot in front of a weathered wooden building with a neon sign proclaiming, “The Rusty Nail.”
Harle killed the engine. “Ready for some of the best wings you’ve ever tasted?”
I stretched, feeling my muscles protest after being cramped in the truck. “Sure am!”
Harle came around to my side of the truck, his presence both comforting and nerve-wracking. “It’s not much to look at, but I promise the food makes up for it.”
As we walked towards the entrance, Harle surprised me by taking my hand in his. Inside, the scent of fried food and beer slapped me in the face. The place was packed, a low hum of conversation punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter. Heads turned, and a few people called out greetings.
“Harle! Where you been, man?” one guy near the pool table shouted, raising a beer in salute.
Harle gave him a wave. “I’ve been around, Dave. It’s good to see you.”
“Hey, Harle,” a woman called out from a booth across the room. “How’s that ass of yours?”
“Does your husband know you’re asking about my ass, Gina?”
Laughter rippled around the room, Gina’s the loudest of all.
“You know I meant Derek!”
“He’s as flirty as ever. I’ll let him know you were asking after him.”
Another man slapped Harle on the back as we passed. “Good to see you, buddy. You should stop by the shop next week. I’ve got something you might wanna look at.”
“Will do, Chuck. How’s Tuesday work for you?”
“Works great. See you then.”
I followed him towards the bar, my cheeks flushing as I caught a few curious glances that came my way.
We took our seats at the bar, and I found myself hyper-aware of how close we were sitting. Our knees brushed as Harle turned to catch the bartender’s attention.
“Hey, buddy. You after the wings?”
“Of course.”
“What about your pretty lady?”
My stomach flipped when Harle winked at me.
“She’ll have the same, thanks, Pete. What do you want to drink, Cass?”
“Just a beer, thank you.”
As we waited for our order, I fiddled with a coaster, trying to think of something to say. Before I could come up with anything, two guys approached us.
“Hey, buddy! Great to see you!” The taller of the two clapped Harle on the shoulder.
“Eddie! Long time, no see. Hey, Joe.” They all shook hands, then Harle gestured to me. “Eddie, Tom, this is my friend Cassidy.”
I smiled awkwardly as both men turned their attention to me. Eddie gave me a friendly nod. “Nice to meet you, Cassidy. How’d you end up stuck with this lumberjack?”
Oh, you know, hired him off Craig’s list for his jizz. “Um, well, we, uh…”
“Met through my friend Craig.”
I gasped, staring at Harle when he winked at me again.
“Craig? Is he from around here?”
“Do we know him?”
“Yeah, you might have heard of him. He’s pretty good at getting people together.”
The two guys frowned in confusion and honestly, I wished the floor would open up and swallow me.
Joe said, “Well, um, anyway, you guys have a good night, you hear. Try the wings, Cassidy, they’re to die for.”
“Already on it,” Harle said with a smile.
As Eddie and Joe walked away, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. A giggle burst out of me, and I punched Harle in the arm.
“Craig’s List? Really?” I snorted, shaking my head. “You’re terrible.”
Harle grinned. “What? It’s not technically a lie.”
“No, but...” I trailed off as Pete set two frosty mugs of beer in front of us.
Harle lifted his mug. “To good beer and killer wings?”
I clinked my glass against his. “To Craig and his magical list of connections.”
We both took long sips of our beers. The cold liquid felt good going down, washing away some of the tension I’d been carrying all day. I set my mug down, licking the foam from my upper lip.
“So, do you know everyone in this bar?” I asked, glancing around at the crowded room.
Harle shrugged. “Not everyone, but it’s a small town. You tend to run into familiar faces.”
I nodded, suddenly feeling a bit out of place. This was Harle’s world, not mine. But before I could dwell on it too much, a plate piled high with golden, crispy wings appeared in front of us.
“Holy crap,” I breathed, inhaling the spicy aroma. “These smell amazing.”
Harle smiled, already reaching for a wing. “Told you they were worth the drive.”