But the more I let her words pinball around my head, the truer they sound.
I pace around my bedroom, letting my mind roam over just how incredible this camp has been so far.
Not only have I reignited an old spark from my childhood – and sure, it ended in cold embers, but that’s getting harder to care about – but I’ve also made some pretty decent sponsorship contacts.
Things are drumming along nicely.
Life is, for the first time in a while, looking sun-bright and optimistic.
I drop onto the end of my bed, lying back and staring up at the ceiling.
I just hope something doesn’t come along and ruin it.
***
The next morning, as I head out to the gym for today’s spin class, I happen to glance across the sunlit fields to the office building. Through Harry’s drawn blinds, I see two shadows, dark silhouettes against the soft glow of the sunlight.
I’m guessing one of them is Harry, because the silhouette is broad and moves with his languid confidence. The other one looks like a woman, tall and slender.
I stop in the middle of the field, gawping like a crazy lady, ignoring the way the other camp-goers move around me like I’m a weirdo on the subway.
Harry reaches across and places his hand on the woman’s shoulder, and then the woman reaches up and places her hand on his hand.
What. The. Fuck.
Okay, so I guess Harry and I never said we were exclusive or anything. I mean, we didn’t even say that we were in a relationship. Maybe he just sees this as a fling or something like that.
But having a woman in his office like this seems like a giantfuck youto me. Like if he really felt like it was necessary to have some fun on the side, did he really have to do it here where there was a good chance I’d see it?
Before I’ve even given it any serious thought, I march toward the office building, my fists clench at my sides. I can feel my nails biting into my palms and white-hot outrage coursing through my body, adding to the adrenaline.
I walk up the stairs, my footsteps pounding loudly.
He’s doing it again.
I feel so stupid for so easily letting my revenge plan go.
It’s just left him an opportunity to make a complete fool of me.
As I push open the door, a voice rises …Harry’svoice.
“All right, Gem,” he’s saying. “Don’t worry. It’s all going to be okay.”
Gem.
Wait … Gemma?
He fricking broughtGemmahere?
Now my anger is like a busted fire hydrant, spraying everywhere.
“Thanks, Harry,” she says, her voice butter-wouldn’t-melt sweet. “And I’ll tellHarry Junioryou said hi, too.”
That just drives another stake of rage into my chest.
So he has got a child, a child that’s named after him, and instead of being upfront and telling me, he kept it a secret so that we could fall like skydivers into our romance from the past.
I nod fiercely, determined.
