Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
The shock of Harlow fleeing—from me—gave her enough of a head start that by the time I rushed out of my SUV, she was already halfway to the hospital entrance.
I don’t know if she expected me to just leave her, but that’s the last thing I would ever do, especially after our conversation got a little heated.
I’m not mad at Harlow. I’m furious at the woman who spoke to her on the phone like she was beneath her.
I don’t really care if that woman is her mother, she was disrespectful, condescending, and downright offensive to Harlow.
She belittled her career, her lifestyle choices, and her ability to make her own decisions.
I haven’t even met the woman, and I seriously dislike her already. The only saving grace Astor Morgan-Lane has right now is that she is Harlow’s mother, and I will respect their relationship.
For now.
I will not, however, standby and let someone treat Harlow like that.
I run a hand through my hair, shaking out some of the rain. If I got this wet stepping out for a moment, Harlow had to be drenched when she met Walker.
Did she tell him where she came from?
Did she explain her soaked clothes?
I know she and Walker are close friends in addition to working together, but I’ve respected her decision to wait to tell him about us.
She is so used to being judged for who she is personally in professional settings—she’s too young, too educated, too big—that one really pissed me off, but I can understand wanting boundaries.
Although the boundary is about to be blown up because I’m not going anywhere.
I pull my SUV into a space close to the front entrance, throw it into park, and watch the front doors.
If she expected me to leave, then she’s in for one heck of a surprise because I’m not going anywhere—not without my girl.
I’m the Chief Financial Officer of Forrest Falls Hospital. I could walk in there and have no issue getting into the ICU where they are interviewing one of the idiots involved in yesterday’s insanity.
But that wouldn’t be helpful to Harlow—nor to my case of not being controlling and only trying to look out for her. She doesn’t need me in the hospital; I don’t want to dwell on how much she doesn’t need me in general, but I trust my gut as I settle in and watch the front entrance of the hospital.
Forty-five minutes later, Harlow and Walker step out of the main entrance.
It’s raining even harder now than when Harlow went inside, so I pull out of my parking spot, and move my SUV under the porte-cochère, so she doesn’t have to walk in the rain again.
Walker sees me and tilts his head before saying something to Harlow.
The two of them are both looking at me while they likely discuss what I’m doing here.
I’m proud of my restraint as I give her space to talk to her boss—and friend.
I could barge up there and declare my feelings for Harlow in front of my brother-in-law, but my presence is a loud enough statement.
For today, anyway.
They wrap up their conversation, and as Harlow walks toward me, I get out of my SUV and round the vehicle to open the passenger door for her.
I lift a hand in acknowledgement to Walker, and he tips his chin at me, returning the wave.
I suspect he knew about Harlow and me before today, but there’s no hiding anymore.
Good.
I didn’t want to hide in the first place.
I climb back into the driver’s side and turn on the heated seats then raise the temperature settings as Harlow is still damp from her run earlier.
She’s playing with her hands and hasn’t looked me in the eyes yet.
Well, that won’t do.
“So, how did it go?” I ask as we pull out of the hospital’s lot, and I turn to take the road back to my house.
“Good. Uneventful, overall, but good.” She nods but still doesn’t look at me.
She’s … embarrassed? Am I reading that right?
“Good. Do you want some coffee on the way back, or I can make some when we get home?”
“Is that it?”
I turn to glance at her before moving my eyes back to the road. “Is what it?”
“I … I ran away from you, quite literally, and instead of getting mad, you wait and then offer me coffee?” Her voice raises at the end, confused by my actions.
But she shouldn’t be—not if she’s been paying attention.
I nod and take a beat before responding, ensuring my tone is calm and even. “That wasn’t ideal, but I shouldn’t have kept you trapped in my SUV either, and I apologize for that.”
She stares at me, eyebrows scrunched, waiting for me to say more.
“Do you think you can forgive me?”
“I … yes, I, well, I should be the one asking for forgiveness. I shouldn’t run away from you or hard conversations, Ryan. I’m sorry.” Her eyes fill with tears as she tries to blink them away.
I can’t restrain myself anymore. I reach out and take her hand in mine. Thankfully, she grabs my hand with both of hers and holds our joined hands in her lap. The tension in my shoulders eases at her touch.
“I would much rather you not run from me when you’re upset, but you have to know, Harlow, I’m not going anywhere.”
Not from hard conversations, not from her, not from what we are building.
“I can see that. And … thank you for staying,” she quietly adds as she squeezes my hand.
I gently squeeze her hand back. “Hey,” I say to get her attention, and she finally meets my gaze. “I’m right here, Lo.”
“And if I run?” she asks, leaning her head back against the headrest.
“Well, we just have to work on you running to me, instead of from me. But we’ll work on it.”
The small smile and quite hum she gives me in return tells me more than any spoken word.