Page 61 of Bittersweet

“I get it. You should go. For Kayla.”

“Harper, look at me.”

She couldn’t. She’d been staring anywhere but in his eyes for most of their conversation.

“Please.”

She did as he asked and saw so much love in his eyes that her heart shattered. This was the man she loved, and she had to let him go. At least this time she could say goodbye.

“I’m sorry things are turning out this way,” Logan told her.

“I know you are.” Harper looked him in the eye, wanting the whole truth. “When will you leave?”

“Naya gets out on Wednesday, and I told her I’d pick her up so she could see Kayla.”

“Oh.” Five days from now was soon. “Anything else?”

“I’m packing us up this weekend. I told my parents we’d be there on Monday afternoon.”

She breathed deep, trying to calm herself and hold back the tears. “Three days.”

“It’s not the end, Harper.”

Harper stood on tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

Logan’s hands slid around her waist and drew her in, lowering his lips to hers, showing her how much he loved her with his kisses.

There were no more words. Nothing left to say. She had to let him go. But would it be the end?

24

They’d never gone on their date. Logan was lucky Harper had come over on Sunday to help him pack up their things. Over and over, he’d assured her that he loved her, that they would make this work, that him living in Detroit wouldn’t be forever. They’d hugged for a long time that day, clinging to each other, not wanting to say goodbye.

“I just got you back,” she had whispered as hot tears wet his neck.

He’d tightened his arms around her and whispered, “I’m yours, baby.”

And when Harper had loosened her grip and started to pull away, he brought her close again, kissing away her tears.

“Don’t let go.” He had meant it in more ways than one.

But the quick peck on the lips she’d given him before leaving had made him wonder if she believed anything he’d said. All he wanted now was to do everything in his power to remove any doubts she might have.

I won’t lose her again.

Logan pushed through the doors of the women’s prison with Kayla’s little hand wrapped in his. They walked to the reception counter, and a woman slid the window to the side.

“We’re here to pick up Naya Moreno,” he told her.

They were an hour away from Naya being released, and he’d been told sometimes there was a delay in out-processing, but he had come early anyway. The woman directed them to the waiting area, where they settled in. This was really no place for a little girl, but Kayla was oblivious, happily playing the makeover game on Harper’s iPad.

He remembered the sadness in Harper’s eyes when she’d crouched down next to Kayla and handed her the iPad. “I want you to have this,” Harper had said. “Always think of me when you play the makeover game.” Tears had filled her eyes and spilled over when Kayla hugged her. He wished her words and the tone of her voice hadn’t sounded so final.

Logan watched his daughter as she played. Two years was a long time for a little girl to go without seeing her mother, and he worried about how she would react to seeing Naya again. Would she be shy? Would she remember her? He thought not. Except maybe to recognize her from her photo.

Sitting in this cold, generic waiting room, with its brown plastic chairs and one small table covered with a few magazines highlighting the sights of Michigan and some brochures for family of prisoners, he longed for Harper’s warmth.

“Naya Moreno,” the woman at the window called out.

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