CHAPTER 43
Claire
It’s a powerful feeling—being in love.
To hear Harvey’s words again—that he’s in love with me—surrounds me with an aura of what seems like magical particles.
I settle on a light yellow nylon dress with pink flowers and a side slit for our date. It’s been a really hot day today, especially for May, but I’ll bring a denim jacket in case the temperature drops dramatically, as it often does this time of year in Chicago.
I didn’t expect my day to take such a turn when I went grocery shopping this morning with Audrey.
But I couldn’t help agreeing to tonight’s date. He seemed happier, and I’ve missed him.
This isn’t an attempt to get back together, because while he’s been working on himself, so have I in some ways. And I don’t want to lose that to be with him. Not until I’m sure his changes aren’t temporary.
After texting with him back and forth, trying to fight off the smile etched on my face, I drive to his place, and after switching to his van, we head to a local pizza place nearby.
The place isn’t too busy, and I’m sure that’s why he picked it. I’m even surprised, in a good way, that we’re out in public. I know how difficult it is for him to do so, what with people staring at him and his worrying about accessibility and whatnot.
“You look stunning, Claire,” he finally says once we’re seated. The wooden tables are low, allowing him to stay in his wheelchair. Perhaps that is what he wanted rather than transferring in public.
I don’t push him on it.
“You look good too,” I say sincerely, staring at him in his khaki pants and soft white dress shirt. Even with his white sneakers on—looking bright and new, since he doesn’t walk in them—he manages to pull off the entire outfit.
We order a large pepperoni pizza to share with red wine. As we’re eating, I ask him how he’s really been doing, mentally. That’s been the hardest part about letting go of him. It was letting go, knowing he wanted to end his life, and hoping that he would never do so, even if I left. It prevented me from sleeping and had me biting my nails for a while. Until I decided to trust the process and trust him.
Even though we were apart.
“Honestly, yeah, I am doing well. Therapy helps. I’m eating healthier now, and it’s helping my mood a bit… I was skipping a lot of meals before. I’m also sleeping better. And work keeps me busy.”
“Small things that can make a difference for sure,” I chime in.
He asks about my job, so I tell him about Mrs. Kent and my other forty-year-old patient, who suffered a fall working construction. He listens to me talk about my new placements before I mention his return to work. He tells me how good it feels to be out into the world again. He seems really focused on saving money to buy a modified car for him to drive. Insurance would cover a portion of it as well. He also tells me about Stefan’s current PT program.
When it’s time to leave, we head to a park full of lanterns and lights around with secluded benches. I sit on one of the benches, and he transfers from his chair to the bench, sitting next to me.
“Thanks for dinner, Harvey. The pizza was really good!”
“It’s no problem. I’m happy you agreed to meet me tonight.”
I see him swallow, and an expression I can’t pinpoint crosses his face. “Hey.” I put my hand on his cheek. “How could I not, hmm?” I try and soothe him.
“Come here.” He pulls me closer to him, and I let him wrap his arm around me. “God, I’ve missed you,” he whispers against the side of my neck. “The thought of you is the only thing keeping me together when I’m struggling.”
I exhale, butterflies soaring inside of me. I can’t contain my smile nor this intense euphoric feeling. It feels amazing to be near him again.
“Claire…we need to talk.”
Instantly, his words fill me with dread. My smile vanishes, and I feel my heart ready to rip my chest open and flee.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” he says softly. “I just want to talk about us.”
“Go on,” I urge him, my nerves slowly decreasing.
“Tonight’s been great.” He kisses my forehead while he squeezes me in his arms. “I mean it—not a day goes by that I don’t think of you…”
“But—”
“No buts—not in that way. I have to be honest with you this time around, and I think I need more time,” he says honestly.
“I think you do too,” I respond, surprising him. “Harvey, my coming here tonight wasn’t to say let’s get together and jump into the same boat again. You need more time, and that’s okay.”
“You’re so understanding about this.” He sighs.
“You recently started therapy. When you come back to me, I don’t want you tethered to Gemma anymore.”
“I’m not, but you’re right regarding therapy. Everything’s coming out, and it takes time to process.”
“I know.” I squeeze his hand.
He shakes his head. “You’re perfect.”
I laugh. “Don’t be absurd.”
He looks away, pensive. “I meant it earlier—we can start going to couple’s therapy together. I’ll book an appointment for us with Dr. Lee next week or the week after.”
“I would like that. I don’t think we’ll need more than a session or two. I just have a few things to address.”
“Okay.” He gives me a small smile.
It’ll be a good excuse to see him maybe once or twice a month until he’s doing better.
As much as I knew I was going to tell him the same thing tonight, it still hurts to hear it from him. A part of me is proud that he’s taking these steps and being honest about what he needs and ensuring he doesn’t reel me in again at the wrong time, yet the selfish part of me wishes we could be together again instead.
He wraps his arm around me tighter, and I notice a sparkle light up his eyes. Then he takes my face in his hand and leans in for a kiss.
His mouth is warm, and his lips are soft.
I kiss him back fervently, hoping for more.
My hands hold his neck in place while he traces his thumb over my cheek. It’s as if a bright shining ball lives inside of me, giving off this incredible heat.
I open my mouth a little wider, giving him room to explore. Our kiss gets so passionate, I end up sucking on his tongue, wishing I were sucking on something else.
“Argh,” he says when he breaks our kiss. “Claire…” He shakes his head.
I want him so bad, though I won’t tell him that. I still feel a little worried about the fact that we’ll be apart once more.
This time, I can’t sleep with him despite what my body wants.
“Please,” he whispers, staring into my eyes, “don’t give up on me.”
“I won’t,” I mutter. As if my heart could ever bear being away from him for good. “You mean too much to me, Harvey.”
And so I kiss him again.