Chapter 37
I jolted awake, gasping for air, my heart hammering against my ribs. Sweat clung to me like a second skin, my throat dry, my breathing ragged. The room was dark, the steady hum of the fan the only sound. My eyes darted to my right, where Harper lay beside me, her face soft in sleep.
I reached out, brushing my fingers against her arm, needing the reassurance that she was real. That she was here. The warmth of her soft skin calmed me, but only just. Sleep barely came since the night Reid showed up.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her. Sitting in that armchair, bruised and bleeding. Reid pulling the gun. The chaos that followed. The moment she fell–her body crumpling as blood bloomed through her shirt like a terrible flower.
I could still feel it. The slick warmth of her blood on my hands as I tried to stop the bleeding.
My voice, raw and desperate, screaming her name, begging her to stay awake.
Her lashes fluttering shut as I pressed down harder.
The metallic tang of blood thick in the air.
The sound of my own panicked shouts echoing in my ears.
In the nightmares, I never saved her. In the nightmares, she was gone.
I squeezed my eyes shut, dragging a hand down my face. Sleep wasn’t an option now. Careful not to wake her, I eased out of bed. She didn’t stir, and I exhaled a quiet breath of relief before slipping downstairs.
In the kitchen, I filled a glass of water and leaned against the counter, staring out the window at the darkened yard. My chest felt tight, the guilt pressing down like a weight I couldn’t shake. I wasn’t there when Reid showed up. I wasn’t there to stop him.
I knew–logically–it wasn’t my fault. It was Reid’s. All of it. Logic didn’t matter when the memories came rushing back, though.
“Ryan?” Her voice was soft, laced with sleep, and when I turned, I found her standing at the bottom of the stairs.
Her hair was tousled, falling loose around her face, but it wasn’t just sleep that marked her features.
The sling still cradled her left arm, the dark fabric stark against the pale skin of her hand.
Bruises ghosted along her cheekbones and near her jaw, yellow and purple blending into one another, like shadows that hadn’t yet let go.
Even so, she looked steady, worry etched into her expression, her green eyes fixed on me with a quiet intensity that made my throat tighten.
“Hey,” I said, my voice hoarse. “What are you doing up?”
She tilted her head. “Could ask you the same thing.”
Her steps were quiet on the floor as she crossed toward me, the loose hem of her sweater brushing against her thighs, her good hand reaching out toward me.
“You okay?” she asked, her voice gentler now.
“I’m fine,” I replied automatically, too fast, too easy.
Her eyes searched mine for a beat too long. And I knew what she was really asking. I also knew I couldn’t give her the real answer. Not yet.
Not when I was still afraid of what else I might say if I started talking.
So I reached for her instead, gently tugging her into my arms. And when she settled against me, warm and solid, I buried my face in her hair and just breathed her in.
After a moment, the words came out, low and certain, the kind you don’t always get right the first time. “I love you, Harper.”
She went still in my arms, and I felt her intake of breath against my shoulder.
Her hand–careful, slow–lifted to my jaw and she tipped her face up so she could look at me.
For a second her eyes were wet and unreadable.
“You said that–” she whispered, voice trembling.
“When I… I thought maybe I’d dreamed it.
I heard you say it, and I couldn’t tell if it was real.
“I’m not asking you to say it back,” I said quickly, because the last thing I wanted was to shove anything on her. My thumb stroked the ridge of her wrist. “I just needed you to know.”
She searched my face like she was cataloguing every line, every mark. Then the tightness in her mouth finally eased, and she let out a small, breathy laugh that turned into something like a sob and a smile all at once. “I love you too.”
The words landed between us like a small, fierce thing. I held her tighter, as if the pressure of my arms could anchor us both in that truth.
After a moment, I steadied myself, the words falling out before I could overthink them. “I want to tell Connor about us.”
Her head lifted just enough for her eyes to meet mine. “You do?”
“Yeah,” I said, no hesitation. “I want this to be real. I want him to know I’m not just some guy who’s around sometimes. I want him to know I’m here… with you. For both of you.”
Something in her expression softened, but I caught the flicker of thought behind her eyes. She reached up, brushing her fingers lightly along my jaw. “Okay. We can tell him.”
The next morning, I sat at the kitchen table, elbows braced against the wood, fingers laced so tightly my knuckles were white. My stomach was in knots.
What if he hated the idea? What if he didn’t want me and his mom together? Hell, what if it made him look at me differently?
The sound of footsteps pulled me from my spiral. Connor padded into the kitchen, blonde hair sticking up in every direction. He spotted me at the table, didn’t even blink.
“Hey, Ryan,” he said around a yawn, heading straight for the fridge.
That was… not the reaction I’d been bracing for.
At the sink, Harper stood with a steaming mug of coffee in her good hand, her left arm still in the sling.
It had only been a couple of weeks since the incident with Reid, and she had at least a month of recovery ahead.
Connor dropped into the chair across from me, Harper setting a plate of toast and scrambled eggs in front of him before lowering herself into the seat beside him.
He looked up between us and frowned. “Why are you guys being so weird?”
Harper shot me a glance, then turned back to him. “Because… there’s something we wanted to tell you.” She hesitated for a second, then squared her shoulders. “Ryan and I are dating.”
Connor blinked, glanced at me, then shrugged and went back to shovelling eggs into his mouth.
“That’s it?” I asked. “You’re okay with this?”
He paused long enough to look between us like we were the crazy ones. “Well, yeah. I’ve pretty much known this entire time. Doesn’t really change anything.”
Harper’s mouth fell open, mortified. I couldn’t help it–I chuckled and reached over to ruffle the back of Connor’s neck. “Guess we didn’t do a great job hiding it.”
Connor shot me a look. “Ya think?” Then, with a grin that was all boyish mischief, he added, “I’m glad you guys are together. I think it’s awesome.”
Something in my chest loosened at that, the relief hitting me harder than I expected.
“So,” I said, leaning back, “you ready for the last game of the season?”
Connor’s grin was instant. “Well, yeah–until spring hockey. Don’t forget tryouts start in a couple weeks.”
As Connor polished off the last of his eggs, Harper glanced at the clock and then to me. “We’ve got time before the game. Want to stop by Benny’s for a pre-game treat and say hi?”
Connor’s eyes lit up. “Yes! Cinnamon buns!”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “Lead the way.”
By the time we reached the bakery, the smell of fresh bread and sugar hit me before we even stepped inside.
The moment we stepped inside, Benny let out a dramatic gasp, flinging his arms wide. “Oh, thank the heavens! My darling Harper has returned!”
Harper laughed, shaking her head. “It’s just a visit, Benny.”
“Visit, schmisit!” Benny said, rushing over to clasp her uninjured hand. “Do you have any idea how much chaos you’ve left me in? Absolute pandemonium! The bread is overproofing, the muffins are mutinying, and don’t get me started on the croissants!”
“Cool it, Benny,” I said, grinning as I stepped in front of Harper like a protective wall. “She’s still on the injured list.”
Benny’s gaze flicked from my face down to where my arm had slipped easily around Harper’s waist. His eyes narrowed just slightly, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Ohhhh…” he murmured, drawing the sound out like he’d just uncovered the juiciest secret in town.
Before he could say anything else, Connor piped up from beside us, completely matter-of-fact. “Yeah. Mom and Ryan are dating now.”
Benny’s mouth dropped open in mock shock. “Dating now? Did they actually think we didn’t already know? The only thing missing was a banner strung across Main Street announcing it.”
Harper groaned, her cheeks turning pink, while I just shook my head, biting back a laugh.
“But seriously, Harper, when are you coming back? The bakery is falling apart without you.”
She smiled warmly at him. “Soon, Benny. I promise.”
I couldn’t help but notice how her face lit up when she talked to him. The bakery was more than just a job for her–it was her second home, her passion. Seeing her like this, alive and fighting to regain her life, made something shift inside me.