And I told him that much.
“No. Not at all,” I said. Still, this felt like a set up. Not a purposeful one, but one I was falling into, nonetheless. I shook my head.
“And have I ever said that I don’t like you? Or stopped you from coming around? Or hell, said a bad word about you?” he asked.
There was a slow but steady rise of agitation and something else in his voice that made me look at him. He was looking at me too, waiting for my response.
All I could do was shake my head.
He sighed deep, his eyes closing as he tipped his head back. “Can I tell you something, sweetheart?”
“Why do you keep asking permission, Harper?” I pleaded. Because each time felt like a tiny little gunshot to my aching heart.
He looked at me warily. “Cause… You’re a little sensitive when you’re sick, Boss.”
Sucking in a deep breath, I said. “I’m strong enough, Harper.”
“That was never a doubt in my mind. I just don’t know if you care to hear me.”
“I care.”
“And so do I,” he said. Frustration, agitation,angeremanating from his low voice. “I’m not showing up wherever you are, strikingup deals, and making an ass of myself at every turn because I don’t care. I care, Alta. I care a lot.”
I didn't know what to say. Paralyzed by the adamance in his voice, the only thing I could think of was, “I’m sorry.”
Did that even encompass it, though? Because the look on his face was making me feel sick in an entirely different way than a stupid respiratory infection. An apology couldn’t possibly be enough to atone for putting it there. If time travel were an option, I’d already be erasing my mistakes.
“It’s okay,” he said. And every bit of it sounded like the truth. Even as he confessed all this to me, clearly upset, he still genuinely said it was okay.
“Is that what you wanted to tell me?” I asked. I honestly hoped so. I don’t think I could take much more.
“More or less,” he sighed. “Look, I know this thing between us is undefined and… different. And I’m not blaming you for anything, I’m just trying to navigate it, same as you.”
“I’m sorry, Harper.”
“It’s okay, just—” he stopped. Restarted. “I know I asked for it and we didn’t go into this with any boundaries or anything, but I’m learning them as I go, and I just… I can take the blame when you’re venting or needing to get your frustration out. I offered, because I’m cool with that, be as rough as you want. But when it comes to my heart, baby, I can’t really take rough.”
It’s then that it hit me–what the look in his eye was, and it bolted me straight up in my seat, my voice wobbling as I asked, “I hurt you, Harper?”
He winced. But he picked up my hand, played with my fingers, his voice cracking a little as he said, “I care about you, Alta. And I like you. With clothes and without. Kissing me or not. I like you even when you don’t like me. So please, if you’re wondering how I’m feeling about you just ask me from now on. I’ll be honest with you then, just like I’m being honest with you now. But please don’tshoot random shots out seeing if you’ll get a hit. Cause when it hits, it hurts.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Please stop apologizing now. It’s okay. I mean it,” he said. “And I’m sorry for being so harsh with you before. I was just so worried about you, but I shouldn’t have made you anxious like that.”
“No Harper,” I said. Lifting to my knees and scooting forward, I took both his hands in mine. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t know. No—that’s stupid. I didn’tthink. I didn’t think past myself and what I was feeling and that was really crappy of me. I'm sorry.”
“Do you believe me when I say thatit’s okay?” he asked.
“I do,” I nodded. “Do you believe me when I say that I’m really, really sorry.”
“I do,” he said. “I’m not trying to hurt your feelings. I’m just asking you not to hurt mine.”
I nodded.
How selfish could I be? How self-centered? How could I keep looking at this man, time and time again and not realize that I’d hurt him? And how unworthy was I to have him sitting right here with me, forgiving me for it? Instead of throwing a fit, or walking out, or punishing me for bringing him pain, he’d waited until I was well enough to sit me down and talk about it. To explain himself and kindly ask that I don’t do that to him again.
He was too good.Sogood. Without a shadow of a doubt, he was the good one, and I was the lucky one. He’d always been the good one. Patient, playful, perfect. It had always been me who couldn’t handle the reality of it. Me, who’d been childish and spiteful around him. Me, who’d been in denial about this pull of something huge between us.
