Chapter 6 Harlan
The last week and a half has been unbearable.
I have barely seen Darío, and I know it’s because he’s been avoiding me when he isn’t traveling.
It’s my fault, and I don’t blame him. I hate more than anything that I can’t offer him comfort, that I can't ease his pain. Not when I’m the one who did this.
I can’t even close my eyes without picturing his face the moment he processed my words.
I was so embarrassed at what I did that I stayed with Penny while Antonella and Enrique were here.
I couldn’t bring myself to face them after what I did.
Antonella tried to text me a few times, but I ignored her messages.
Not only did my shitty behavior cost me the best thing that’s ever happened to me, but I’ve lost his family, too.
I realize that I’ll never have another holiday with them, that I won’t be able to gang up with Antonella against Dare and Enrique during family game nights.
I can’t imagine how angry they are with me, and my heart can’t handle facing them.
Jules and AJ have also tried reaching out.
Their texts to check in had me in tears.
While they are very much Darío’s friends, they became mine, too.
More like family, if I’m honest. I guess avoiding people is the only thing I’m good at these days.
As much as it hurts to leave without saying goodbye to the people who have become closer to me than my own family, it’s easier than facing the judgment that I’m sure they’re feeling.
I leave the day after tomorrow and Dare and I have exchanged as few words as possible while living under the same roof.
He helped me pack my things for the movers, but he did it in total silence.
Shawn arranged for the transport of everything, so all I have is hand luggage to take on the flight.
I have walked through each room to ensure that I haven’t missed anything.
Every room has flooded me with memories.
Meals, decorating, holidays, sex, laughs, conversations about our future together.
These walls have seen so much, and now I’ve effectively erased any signs of my having lived here.
In the last year or so, Dare has dropped hints about getting engaged, which I met with enthusiasm.
I kept expecting him to pop the question, but it hasn’t happened.
Now, it never will. I suspected he had bought a ring, but I was content to act surprised, so I never mentioned it.
When I was packing up my stuff in our room the other day, I saw a black velvet ring box hidden in a box full of paperwork and other things stashed in our closet.
It was a clever place to hide it since Dare was always the responsible one when it came to birth certificates, passports, and things like that.
I couldn’t bring myself to open it, but it has haunted me relentlessly.
I nestled it back amongst his things, and cried until I had no tears left.
I heard him open the bedroom door, but he didn’t seek me out.
Familiar footsteps echo from the hallway as I sit on the bed contemplating my life.
I look up to see Dare standing in the doorway.
He’s leaning with his arms crossed against his naked chest, and the visceral reaction my body has to his is as strong as ever.
I want, so badly, to ask him when he was planning to propose.
Would I have done anything different that night if I had a ring on my finger?
Would that reminder have been enough when I kept shoving his voice down?
I don’t deserve him, and I get to live with that reality for the rest of my life.
“Hey,” he says. It’s the first time he’s engaged me in a conversation rather than me finding any reason to get him to talk to me.
I’ve been borderline unhinged, seeking out any possible reason to be near him, to interact with him, to get him to look at me.
Begging for any scrap of attention he’s willing to give.
“Hey.” I’m not sure what to say. I’m watching him like one would watch a wild animal.
I don’t want to scare him away. I want him to come closer so I can inhale his scent.
I want his arms to embrace me. I want to fall asleep wrapped up in him one more time.
I would cut off a limb if it meant he’d show me any affection.
“Are you ready for the move?” Such an inane question, but it’s like he’s trying the conversation on. Seeing how it feels. Testing his limits to see if he can tolerate speaking to me.
“Yeah, the movers will be here tomorrow. Pen is taking me to the airport on Thursday morning. My flight leaves at six. Millie is meeting me at Heathrow when I land.” My sister Amelia is going to university in London, so at least I’ll be close to her.
That’s, perhaps, the only positive thing about this wretched move.
“Are you staying with her?” He’s still standing in the doorway.
I don’t even pretend I’m not soaking in every inch of him.
The physical ache I feel when I think about being away from him is constant.
I find myself wondering if he’s affected by me at all.
Other than repulsion, I mean. I’m sure I’m imagining the look of disgust in his eyes.
That’s more likely a reflection of how I feel about myself.
“For a bit. L I don’t think I’d be able to take her judgment.
She hums but doesn’t speak right away. “Look at me, Harlan.” The firm command forces me to look into her blue eyes.
The smile lines that surround them tell decades of stories that I’ve had the honor of hearing at this very table.
She’s not looking at me with judgment, though.
All I see is compassion, love, and a deep affection that I will miss more than she can ever possibly know.
“No one in this life is perfect. Did you talk to your baseball player?”
“I told him as soon as he came home from LA. He ended things, obviously. I don’t blame him, but he can barely stand to be in the same room as me.” I feel the tears welling, so she passes me a napkin from the ceramic holder on the table.