Page 153 of Almost Ours
Her words hitme harder than I expected, like a slap that knocked the wind out of me. Still, I stayed silent, letting her say what she needed to say.
“You didn’t tell me the truth,” she continued, her eyes locked onto mine, sharp and accusing even through the tears. “Do you know how much that hurts? I trusted you.” Her voice broke, and she shook her head, as if trying to rid herself of the pain. “You’ve kept this huge part of yourself hidden from me.”
It felt like everything I’d ever wanted from her–her trust, her love–was slipping away, and all I could do was stand there, feeling every ounce of guilt I’d ever carried.
“Harper, I-”
“No,” she cut me off, her voice rising slightly, the edge of anger creeping in alongside the grief. “You don’t get to defend yourself right now. I have to protect myself, Ryan. And I have to protect Connor. I can’t…” She faltered, her voice cracking, before she took a shaky breath, steadying herself. “I can’t make the same mistakes again. I don’t know if people can truly change.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, leaving me raw, exposed, and unable to breathe. This wasn’t just aboutus anymore. It was about her survival, about Connor. “Harper, please,” I begged, stepping closer, my hands clasping in front of me as if I were praying. My heart was in my throat, each word tasting like broken glass. “This isn’t a mistake. We’re not a mistake. You and me, Harper. Us. Connor. We’re the best thing that's ever happened to me. I love you so much. I love him. I would do anything for you both–anything. Please don’t do this.”
Her shoulders shook harder, her sobs taking over, and I could see the battle playing out inside her. The desire to believe me was there, I could feel it in the way she looked at me, but fear had its claws in her, digging in deeper with every word I spoke.
“Sometimes…” she began, her voice barely a whisper, like the words were too heavy for her to carry. She looked down at her lap, as though gathering her strength, before lifting her gaze to mine–her eyes glistening with unshed tears, raw and vulnerable. “Sometimes love isn’t enough.
“No,” I said firmly, shaking my head, as if denying the truth could make it go away. “That’s not true, Harper. Love iseverything. What we have? That’s real. That’s worth fighting for.”
“Is it?” she asked, her voice trembling, the question cutting deep. “Because right now it feels like I’m the only one fighting to keep myself safe. You’ve made me feel like I can’t trust you, Ryan. And without trust… what do we have?”
Her words landed like a heavy blow, and my chest felt like it was caving in. I wanted to reach for her, to make her understand how sorry I was, how much I hated that I’d put her in this position, but all I had left were words–words that suddenly felt so small, so powerless.
“You can trust me,” I said, desperation creeping into my voice.
She wiped at her face, taking another breath to steady herself.
“I love you,” I said again, quieter this time. “I know I messed up. I should have told you everything. But you have to believe me–I didn’t keep it from you to hurt you. I was ashamed, Harper. Ashamed of the man I used to be. Ashamed of the things I’ve done. I didn’t want you to look at me like this.”
“Like what?” she asked softly, her voice trembling.
“Like you’re looking at me right now,” I admitted, my voice breaking. “Like I’m someone you can’t trust. Someone you’re afraid of. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you, so I kept it to myself. And now…” I trailed off, my head dropping into my hands.
“Now I don’t know if we can come back from this,” she finished for me.
Her words were like a knife to the chest, twisting deeper with every beat of my heart. “Harper, please,” I whispered, my chest tight with emotion. “Tell me what I can do. Tell me how to fix this.”
“I don’t know if you can,” she said, her voice raw and broken. “I don’t know ifwecan.”
The dam finally broke and I reached for her, pulling her into my arms. She didn’t resist, and for a moment, I let myself hope. I held her as tightly as I dared, burying my face in her hair, breathing her in. She was crying against my chest, her tears soaking through my shirt.
“I’m so sorry,” I said over and over, my own tears falling now. “I’m so, so sorry. I love you, Harper. Please don’t do this.”
She clung to me for a moment longer, and then, slowly, she pulled away. Her face was drenched in tears, and she looked at me like she was memorizing my face, like she was saying goodbye.
For a brief second, I saw it in her eyes–something soft, something that told me she still loved me. But then, it was gone, replaced by the hardness of resolve, the knowing that withouttrust, there was no future for us. I could feel the weight of that decision in the air, her chest rose and fell with each breath, steady but heavy.
“I need you to leave,” she said, her voice breaking again.
“Harper–”
“Please,” she whispered, her eyes closing as if it hurt her to even say the word.
I couldn’t argue with her. I couldn’t push her. Not when she was this broken. So I stood, my legs unsteady beneath me. “I’ll go,” I said quietly. “But this isn’t over. I love you too much to let it be.”
She didn’t say anything, just turned away as I made my way to the door. And when I stepped outside, the sound of the door closing behind me felt like the final nail in the coffin.
Ryan had barely pulledout of the driveway when my legs gave out beneath me. I slid to the floor, clutching my knees to my chest as the sobs overtook me. It felt like I had just ripped out my own heart and handed it to him on his way out the door. The weight of what I’d done pressed down on me, suffocating me, and I cried harder than I had in years. That was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Watching him stand there, his voice trembling, practically begging me to give him a chance, had shredded every ounce of resolve I thought I had left. It took absolutely everything in me not to break down and tell him everything would be okay.
I loved Ryan. God, I loved him so much. The way he loved me, the way he loved Connor, the way he made me feel like I could finally breathe again after everything I’d been through. But love wasn’t enough–not when trust had been shaken. My head ultimately won out over my heart, as much as it killed me. I couldn’t trust my heart anymore; it had led me astray before, and the consequences had nearly destroyed me… nearly killed me.
