My live-in nanny was starting to get on my nerves. Shoving food down my throat and insisting I forget about August.
He was obviously hurting over not playing, over his brother taking what never belonged to him in the first place. This had nothing to do with me. There was just no way August believed I was keeping his secret because I was obsessed with Troy. He was just mad at his brother, he’d had too much to drink and clearly took out his anger at the wrong person.
“Nic, I don’t want to eat.”
“Okay, no food. That’s fine. But I’m going to put this away,” she reached for my glass and moved to the kitchen, dumping it.
I groaned. “When are you leaving?”
Nic came to sit next to me. “I’m leaving tonight. But I need you to promise me you won’t text him again.”
I nodded. I only texted him twice. Maybe three times over the weekend just in case he was too embarrassed to call me after blowing his fucking lid on Friday night.
That wasn’t about me.
“Harper, he doesn’t want to see you. You need to understand that.”
“He was drunk and in shock, and he didn’t know how to handle it. I know he’ll come around, Nic.”
Sympathy flashed in her eyes and they watered slightly, which was unlike Nic. “Harper, I love you. You haven’t made the best choices, but you are pure of heart and you always see the best in people. I’m going to go home tonight, I think you do need your space, but just do one thing for me.”
“I won’t call or text him again,” I groaned like an annoyed teenager.
“Not just that. Know your worth. Because it’s so much more than what he did to you on Friday.”
I shook my head. Wishing she’d stop blaming him. He was the victim here. Troy made him lie and I did too in not so many ways.
Nic helped me clean up and I had a few pretzels with tea before bed.
“Why don’t you take the day off tomorrow? I’ve got it covered.”
I tried to insist I was fine, but she reminded me that I kept mixing up orders all day and giving people their wrong usuals. And Frankie told me there was too much money after I cashed out, so I’d clearly short-changed a few people.
“You’re hurting too, Harp. Take a day. Come in on Wednesday and call me tomorrow if you need me.”
I agreed hesitantly and quickly started running a list in my head of what I would do to fill my time.
After cleaning out the refrigerator, throwing out all leftovers and food I knew wouldn’t be touched anytime soon, I scrubbed every tile in the apartment until it shined like new.
I did finally end up eating a chocolate pudding that was in there a week or so. Then I turned on the news to see if any of Troy’s teammates were interviewed about his last few plays.
“Idiots. All of them.”
I sat and watched the replays. Wondering how someone like Troy, who did alright in high school, but was certainly no rock star, could end up drafted into the NHL. Grace had told me they both played in college. Why wouldn’t August make it to the pros?
I scoffed, scraping up the last of the pudding in the cup. “These idiots picked the wrong guy.”
I jerked up on my couch. “Shit. They picked thewrongtwin.”
I wouldn’t have believed it if these two didn’t just pull the exact same thing two years later.
That had to be it. It made complete sense. At least when it came to the Hartman brothers.
The next morning, I was too anxious to do anything on the stupid list I made. Most of which had more scrubbing and cleaning things out of those boxes I had yet to unpack.
I did finally take a long hot shower, ate a bagel and made my own cup of instant coffee for the first time since I’d moved back to Brooklyn.
I didn’t allow myself to miss August—no time for heartache or lust. There was a lot more going on and he needed someone to snap him out of it.
