Chapter 47 Ryan #3
Her words landed like a blow, and I swallowed hard, my thumb brushing over the back of her hand in an almost desperate attempt to hold on to something, anything.
She let me hold it for a moment longer, but then she pulled away, slipping her fingers free.
“But I know now,” she continued, her eyes meeting mine with a quiet intensity. “And it sounds like an incredible opportunity. I’m happy for you… really.”
Her words were kind, but her expression betrayed her. There was sadness in her eyes, a weight that she was trying to hide, and it twisted inside me.
“It’s only two months,” I said quickly, as if that would somehow make things better. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
She nodded, her throat working as she swallowed. “I know.”
The silence stretched between us, thick and heavy, as we both carried the weight of everything we weren’t saying.
She let out a small humourless laugh, breaking the tension just slightly. “I do know everything now, right?”
I forced a smirk, shaking my head. “No more secrets.” Then quieter, “Can I tell Connor myself?”
“Of course,” she said immediately, her lips curving into a faint smile. “He’ll be so excited for you.”
I nodded, relief mingling with the lingering tension. “Thank you.”
She gave me a small nod, then turned and kept walking, her shoulders squared as she pulled herself together. I followed a step behind, my chest aching with every step we took away from each other.
When we reached the truck, Shane leaned against the hood, his arms crossed and a grin on his face. “Finally,” he drawled. “Thought you two got lost or something.”
“Or something,” Nina quipped, smirking as she opened the passenger door.
Kyle stayed quiet, but his eyes flicked between Harper and me as he rolled up to the back door.
I climbed into the driver's seat, taking the keys from Shane, who handed them over with a smug look. Harper slid into the backseat beside Kyle, the skirt of her dress brushing against her knees as she adjusted herself.
As she settled in, Nina glanced back, her gaze lingering on Harper for just a second–silent, questioning. A wordless check in.
Harper met her eyes briefly and gave a small nod, so slight it would have been easy to miss. Nina caught it, though. Her expression softened, just for a moment, before she turned back around, making some teasing comment to Shane as if the moment hadn’t happened.
The car filled with chatter as we drove toward the karaoke bar. Shane was in full form, belting out an off-key rendition of whatever song came on the radio, Nina laughing at him and egging him on. Kyle joined in with dry commentary, cracking jokes at Shane’s expense.
Through it all, I kept glancing in the rearview mirror. Harper was laughing at Shane’s antics, her face lit up in the dim glow of the streetlights, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
That shadow in her gaze–subtle, but there–pulled at something deep inside me.
I wanted to reach out to her, tell her everything I couldn’t put into words earlier. But instead, I just kept driving, stealing glances at her reflection.
Her laugh was beautiful. Her smile was everything. And even though she wasn’t mine anymore, I didn’t think I’d ever stop trying to earn it back.
The karaoke bar was alive with energy, the crowd buzzing as Nina hit the final note of Before He Cheats. She bowed dramatically to a wave of cheers and whistles, sauntering back to the table with a victorious grin.
“You’re welcome,” she said, plopping into her seat and taking a sip of her drink.
“Thank you for blessing us with that performance,” Kyle deadpanned, raising his glass. “Truly unforgettable.”
Before Nina could reply, Shane stood up and clapped his hands together. “Alright, folks, it’s time for the main event!”
“Oh no,” I muttered under my breath, already knowing where this was going.
“Let’s go, Harp, we’re up next!” Shane announced to the room, pointing at her.
“What? No. No way.” Harper’s eyes widened, shaking her head emphatically.
“Too late, sweetheart.” Shane grinned, grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet. “I signed us up ten minutes ago. It’s happening.”
“Shane!” She protested, laughing as she reluctantly followed him toward the stage.
Kyle leaned over to me with a smirk. “This is going to be good. I bet you ten bucks Harper carries the whole performance.”
“Not taking that bet,” I said, grinning despite myself. My eyes were glued to her as she climbed onto the stage, still laughing but visibly nervous.
The music started–I Got You Babe by Sonny and Cher–and Shane grabbed the mic, crooning the opening lines with over-the-top bravado. Harper looked at him like he was absolutely insane, shaking her head, but then the corner of her mouth lifted, and she took her cue.
At first, her voice was soft, a little hesitant. Then she loosened up, letting herself get into it. By the chorus, she was laughing and belting it out with Shane, who was shamelessly hamming it up.
And damn, she was radiant.
Cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling under the stage lights, the tension from earlier completely gone. She was happy–in this moment, at least–and it made something tighten in my chest.
Around us, people clapped along, some even singing with them. Shane, never one to pass up an opportunity for theatrics, twirled Harper under his arm at the next break in lyrics, making her laugh harder.
“Man, you’re not even pretending to look at anyone else in this room,” Kyle said, leaning back in his chair.
“What?” I snapped my head toward him. “I’m watching the show, like everyone else.”
“Sure you are,” he replied, a knowing grin on his face.
Nina smirked from the other side. “You’ve got it bad, dude.”
“Will you two shut up?” I muttered, but my eyes had already drifted back to her.
She was still laughing, shaking her head at Shane’s antics, as her gaze flickered toward the crowd, landing on me. Just for a second.
The crowd erupted in applause. Shane took an exaggerated bow while Harper laughed, covering her face as they walked back to the table.
“Ladies and gentlemen, my new singing partner,” Shane announced, throwing an arm around her shoulders.
“Never again,” Harper said, swatting him away.
“You loved it,” Shane teased.
Harper rolled her eyes and turned to Kyle. “You owe me ten bucks for this. I carried the whole thing.”
“Fair,” Kyle said, reaching into his pocket for imaginary cash. “You were the star, no question.”
The five of us dissolved into laughter–the kind that only happens when you’re a few drinks deep and surrounded by the right people. The kind that feels effortless, that wraps around you like warmth against the chill of the night.
Eventually, we called it a night and made our way to the parking lot.
The buzz of the evening still clung to the air, laughter trailing.
I unlocked the truck and glanced at Harper as she slid into the backseat, her dress rustling as she adjusted herself.
Her smile lingered in my mind like a melody, impossible to forget.
As I started the engine, I decided to drop her off first.
Otherwise, I’d keep her in the truck with me as long as possible, and that was dangerous territory. If we were alone too long, I’d say something stupid or–worse–make a move, and tonight had been too good to ruin with my own lack of self-control.
The drive back was quiet, the truck humming softly as the lights blurred past. Harper leaned against the window, her head resting lightly against the glass, her breath fogging up a small patch of it.
She looked peaceful like this, and for a second, I let myself pretend we weren’t here, in this in between place.
That I wasn’t leaving. That she wasn’t still holding me at arm’s length.
She shifted slightly, her fingers curling into the fabric of her dress, and for a brief moment, I wondered if she was thinking about me too.
I stole a glance at her in the rearview mirror, the soft glow of the streetlights casting delicate shadows across her face.
Tonight felt different.
For the first time in months, she let me in. Just a little. Not all the way, but enough. Enough that we talked about something other than Connor. Enough that she looked at me like I wasn’t just a ghost of her past, but someone who still mattered.
I felt like there was a crack in the walls she’d spent so long building between us, and now, leaving felt wrong. I couldn’t change my mind, though. I had committed to this, to the program, to what I knew deep down was the right thing to do.
It just killed me to walk away when, for the first time in a long time, it felt like she might finally be willing to let me stay.
Two months.
This was going to be the longest damn two months of my life