Chapter 4 #2
“She ambushed both of us, I think.” I lifted another bale, grunting slightly at the weight in a way that was definitely not attractive. My back protested loudly. “This is what we get for having a meddling best friend.”
A ghost of a smile crossed his face, there and gone so fast I almost missed it. “Yeah. She's not subtle.”
“Never has been.” I carried the bale to the trailer, trying not to stumble like the uncoordinated disaster I was. Connor reached out instinctively to help steady it, and our hands brushed.
We both froze.
The contact was brief. Just a moment of our fingers touching through work gloves, but it sent electricity shooting up my arm like I'd touched a live wire. My breath caught and everything else faded away except the warmth of his hand near mine and the way time seemed to stop.
Connor pulled back like he'd been burned, stepping away quickly, and the careful distance between us felt even wider than before.
“Sorry.” The word came out barely above a whisper as he turned away.
“It's fine.” Nothing about this was fine.
We kept working, the silence stretching between us like a chasm that kept getting wider with every bale we loaded.
I wanted to say something, anything to break the tension, but every conversational opening felt loaded with landmines.
How was work? How are you? Why can't you stand to be around me anymore?
Why did you defend Morgan when I was just trying to help you?
Do you miss me? Because I miss you so much it hurts.
“Storm's supposed to hit tomorrow night.” Connor's voice was carefully neutral, deliberately casual, like we were strangers making small talk at a bus stop. “Big one. That's why I wanted to get these moved today.”
“Makes sense.” I hefted another bale, my arms shaking now in a way that was definitely noticeable.
“Yeah.”
More silence. Another bale. Then another. The conversational equivalent of pulling teeth, except probably less painful.
This was agony. Worse than not seeing him at all was being this close and feeling miles apart, like we were speaking different languages or living in parallel universes that only occasionally intersected.
“Harper, I—” Connor started, then stopped, shaking his head like he'd thought better of whatever he was about to say.
“What?” I turned to face him, searching his face for any clue to what he was thinking.
“Nothing. Never mind.” He turned away, grabbed another bale with more force than necessary, his movements sharp and frustrated.
“Connor—”
“It's nothing. Just…” He set down the bale he was holding and finally looked at me. Really looked at me, his honey-colored eyes studying my face with an intensity that made my heart forget how to beat properly. “Are you okay? You look tired.”
There was concern in his voice, and the way he looked at me like he could see right through the makeup and the forced smiles to the exhaustion underneath made my chest tight. Tears pricked the corner of my eyes and I had to blink them away quickly before he noticed.
No, Connor. I'm drowning in debt, my business is failing, I haven't slept properly in weeks, and being near you hurts in ways I can't explain. But thanks for asking. “I'm fine. Just busy.”
“With the boutique?”
“Yeah.”
He looked like he wanted to press, to ask more questions, to dig deeper into the obvious lie I'd just told. I could see it in the way his brow furrowed, the way he opened his mouth and then closed it again like he was physically swallowing the words.
But he just nodded instead. “If you ever need anything,” he paused, and when he continued, his voice was softer, more vulnerable, like he'd dropped some of the careful walls he'd been maintaining. “I'm here. You know that, right?”
Are you? Because you haven't been. Not for months. Not since you chose her over our friendship. But I just said, “I know, thanks.”
We finished loading the trailer in silence, the unspoken things between us growing heavier with each passing minute, each bale stacked, each careful avoidance of eye contact.
By the time we were done, my arms were shaking from exertion, my back ached like I'd aged forty years, and I could feel hay sticking in my hair, on my clothes, probably down my shirt in places I didn't want to think about.
Connor climbed onto the ATV and started the engine with a rumble that echoed through the barn. “I'll drive these down to the lower barn. You can head back to the house and warm up.”
“I can help unload—”
“Harper.” His voice was gentle, and when I met his eyes, I saw something in them I couldn't read. Something that looked almost like pain, or regret, or maybe just exhaustion that matched my own. “You've done enough. Go inside. I'll be there in a few minutes.”
I wanted to insist I could help, to prove I wasn't completely useless at physical labor. But the look on his face said this wasn't about the hay. He needed space. Distance. From me.
Story of my life.
“Okay. See you inside.”
I walked back to the house, my legs heavy and my heart heavier, like I was carrying more than just the exhaustion of manual labor.
Through the kitchen window, I could see Anna and Jaxon moving around inside, cooking together.
Jaxon said something that made Anna laugh, and she swatted at him with a dish towel, playful and easy.
They looked happy, natural with each other in a way that felt effortless.
The way Connor and I used to be, back before everything got complicated and painful and broken.
Before I reached the porch steps, headlights swept across the driveway.
I turned, squinting against the glare, and watched Morgan's silver sedan, expensive in a way that made my beat-up Honda look like it belonged in a junkyard, pulled up next to mine with the kind of precision that spoke of practice.
She climbed out, all smiles and perfect hair that somehow still looked salon-fresh even at the end of the day. She waved when she saw me, bright and cheerful, and my stomach dropped to my feet and kept going, possibly straight to hell.
“Harper! I didn't know you'd be here. What a nice surprise.”
I'm sure it is. “What are you doing here?” My mouth went dry and my heart started pounding.
“Connor invited me.” She leaned into her passenger seat and grabbed some kind of casserole or dessert in a glass pan, covered with foil like she was bringing a contribution to a potluck nobody had told me about.
“When I mentioned I didn't have plans tonight, he said I should come to dinner. Isn't that sweet?”
Connor invited her?
The words didn't make sense. They wouldn't arrange themselves into any kind of logical order in my brain because Anna had told me that he didn't want her around anymore since he'd ended things.
The front door burst open, and Anna appeared on the porch. Her expression went from welcoming to horrified in an instant when she saw Morgan, her smile freezing and then cracking like thin ice.
“Morgan? I…we weren't expecting you.” Anna's voice was tight, controlled, but I could hear the confusion underneath, the same confusion that was making my head spin.
“Oh, didn't Connor tell you?” Morgan breezed past me toward the porch like she owned the place, her heels crunching on the gravel with the confidence of someone who'd never been told no. “He texted me this morning. Said you were having dinner and I should come. I hope it's okay! I brought dessert.”
Anna's eyes met mine over Morgan's head, and I could see the apology there. Her expression told me she had no idea what Morgan was talking about.
Jaxon appeared behind Anna in the doorway, and his jaw tightened when he saw Morgan. His whole body went rigid, tension radiating from every line of his frame in a way that would've been intimidating if Morgan had been capable of reading social cues. “Connor didn't mention—”
“Well, you know Connor.” Morgan laughed, bright and false, cutting him off smoothly like she was conducting an orchestra. “Always forgetting to communicate the details. But I'm here now! Should we go inside? It's freezing out here.”
She didn't wait for an answer. Just walked into Connor's house like she'd done it a thousand times, like the breakup had been a minor inconvenience rather than an actual ending. Like she still belonged there.
I stood in the driveway, frozen like the temperature had dropped another twenty degrees, as Anna mouthed “I'm so sorry,” before disappearing inside after Morgan with Jaxon following close behind, his expression promising that someone was going to get an earful later.
In the distance, I could hear the ATV returning, the engine growing louder the closer it got.
Connor would be here in moments, and I'd have to sit through dinner watching Morgan smile at him, touch his arm, laugh at his jokes in that way that suggested intimacy and history.
Watching her stake her claim even though he'd supposedly ended things.
Watching her win, because people like her always won.
I couldn't do it.
I turned toward my car, keys already in my hand, my whole body screaming to run before this got any worse.
“Harper?”
Connor's voice stopped me like a physical barrier. I looked back and saw him walking from the barn, his expression confused, concerned. He pulled off his work gloves as he approached, his steps quick.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.” The word came out flat, empty, like I'd used up all my emotional capacity loading hay and had nothing left. “I forgot I have…something. I need to go.”
“Harper—”
“Morgan's here.” I forced myself to meet his eyes, to let him see the hurt I couldn't quite hide no matter how hard I tried. “She said you invited her.”
His face went slack, color draining from his features like someone had pulled a plug. “I didn't. I don't know why she'd—Harper, please don't go.”
But I was already moving toward my car, my legs carrying me away on autopilot. “It's been a long day, Connor. Tell Anna I'm sorry.”
“Harper, wait—”
I didn't wait. I couldn't. Because if I stayed, I'd have to sit through dinner watching him with her, and I'd already spent enough months doing that while it killed me piece by piece. I climbed into my car, started the engine with shaking hands, and drove away without looking back.
Behind me, Connor stood in his driveway, and even through the rearview mirror, I could see the frustration on his face. The way his hands clenched at his sides. The way he took a step forward like he might follow, might actually chase after me for once.
But he didn't. He never did.
And that, more than anything else, told me everything I needed to know.