Chapter 5 #3
When I went back inside, everyone was very carefully not talking about what had just happened.
Anna was clearing dessert plates with precise, deliberate movements that spoke of barely controlled anger.
Felix was pretending to be very interested in something on his phone.
Marcus and Jim were having a too-loud conversation about nothing important, their voices strained with false cheer.
And Harper…
Harper sat on the couch exactly where I'd left her, but her face was still pale, her hands twisted together in her lap so tightly her knuckles were white. She wasn't looking at anyone, just staring at her hands like they held answers to questions she was afraid to ask.
She finally lifted her gaze and our eyes met across the room. I saw something there I couldn't read. Fear? Concern? Or maybe just the same exhaustion I'd been seeing for weeks, now amplified by whatever she'd heard through the door.
“Sorry about that.” I cleared my throat and forced my voice to stay calm. Normal. “Morgan won't be showing up again.”
“Good,” Anna said firmly, her blue eyes flashing with protective anger that would've been intimidating if it wasn't on my behalf. “She needed to hear that months ago.”
The evening continued, however, the easy warmth from dinner was gone. People started making noises about heading home earlier than usual, glancing at watches and mentioning early mornings even though it was Saturday night.
Felix left first, squeezing my shoulder on his way out with a look that said we’d talk about it later. Then Marcus and Jim left, both of them thanking me for dinner with the kind of careful courtesy that said they knew something heavy had happened and didn't want to intrude.
Until it was just me, Jaxon, Anna, and Harper.
“We should go too.” Anna glanced at Harper with concern clear on her face, her protective instincts obviously screaming. “I have an early morning tomorrow.”
Harper nodded, standing quickly like she'd been waiting for permission to leave, like sitting still had become unbearable. “Thank you for dinner, Connor. It was really good.”
“Anytime.” I walked them to the door, hyperaware of Harper's proximity, of the way she wouldn't quite meet my eyes, of the tension radiating from her body. “Drive safe. And Harper?”
She turned back, her expression carefully neutral, guarded.
“If Morgan contacts you, if she bothers you at all, tell me. Okay?”
Something flickered across her face. Her eyebrows furrowed, confusion mixing with something that might've been worry. “Why would she contact me?”
“I don't know. I just—” I have a bad feeling. I heard the way she said your name. I saw something in her eyes that looked like a threat. “Just let me know if she does.”
Harper studied me for a long moment, and I could see her trying to decide if I was being paranoid or if there was something real to worry about. Her teeth caught her bottom lip, a tell I recognized from years of friendship. Something she did when she was anxious.
Finally, she nodded slowly. “Okay. Goodnight, Connor.”
“Goodnight.”
Then she was gone, Anna's car disappeared down the driveway with Harper in the passenger seat, and I was alone in my too-quiet house with Jaxon.
“She'll be fine,” Jaxon said, reading my expression with the accuracy of someone who'd seen me spiral before. “Morgan's all talk.”
“Is she?” I moved back inside, suddenly exhausted, the adrenaline crash hitting me hard. “You didn't see her face, Jax. When she drove away. She looked—”
“What?”
“Satisfied. Like she'd gotten exactly what she wanted even though I kicked her out.” I sank onto the couch Harper had been sitting on, still warm from her body heat. “What did she mean by 'Harper's not what you think she is'?”
Jaxon was quiet for a moment, his jaw working like he was choosing his words carefully. Then he shook his head. “Nothing. She was just trying to get under your skin. Make you doubt yourself, doubt Harper. It's manipulation.”
“It worked.”
“Connor.” Jaxon sat in the chair across from me, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his expression serious. “Morgan’s not dumb. She’s pissed that you care about Harper more than you ever cared about her. That's what this and her coming around uninvited is about. Her ego.”
“Maybe.”
“Definitely.” He stood, stretching, his joints popping in the quiet room. “I'm heading out. But Connor? Stop letting Morgan mess with your head. And maybe actually tell Harper how you feel before someone else does.”
He left before I could ask what that meant, the door closing with a soft click that somehow sounded final.
I cleaned up mechanically after everyone was gone by loading the dishwasher, the sound of plates clinking echoed in the quiet house like accusations.
I put away leftover pot roast that no one would eat even though I made too much and wiped down counters that were already clean just to have something to do with my hands, to keep them from shaking.
The evening had started so well. For a few precious hours it had felt like maybe we could find our way back to what we'd been. And then Morgan had shown up and ruined it.
I pulled out my phone, scrolled to Harper's contact, my thumb hovering over her name. I wanted to text her, to make sure she got home okay, to apologize again for Morgan, to ask what was wrong because I knew something was wrong and had been for weeks.
But it was late, nearly eleven, and I didn't want to be that guy who couldn't give her space. Instead, I sent a quick text to Jaxon.
Thanks for having my back tonight.
Jaxon
Anytime. Get some sleep.
My gaze stayed on my phone, then pulled up the text thread with Harper. Our last conversation stared back at me, my apology and her polite response that everything was fine.
I started typing three different messages and deleted them all. What was I supposed to say? Sorry my ex-girlfriend keeps showing up and making you uncomfortable? Sorry I'm too much of a coward to tell you how I feel? Sorry I'm falling apart watching you struggle with something you won't talk about?
I set the phone down without sending anything.
Jaxon had said to stop letting Morgan mess with my head. But how was I supposed to do that when her parting words had planted seeds of doubt that were already taking root?
Harper's not what you think she is.
I hoped he was right. I hoped Morgan was just trying to manipulate me, to drive a wedge between Harper and me out of spite and wounded pride.
But hope felt fragile tonight. It felt like something that could shatter at the slightest touch.