Page 62 of The Love You Fight For
She’s sitting on the bed with her laptop in her lap, and she slides her glasses to the top of her head when she sees me.
“Pizza,” I say. “Peace offering.”
I set the plate on top of the dresser, then turn to face her completely.
“I’m sorry. I should have been up-front with you. I withheld the whole truth, led you to believe a lie, and I never should have done that. If you want, I can bring you back to Franklin tonight.”
The shock on Sam’s face is unmistakable, but then it’s wiped away just as quickly as it came. She purses her lips, frown lines appearing briefly between her eyebrows while she thinks over what I said, and finally she sighs.
“Thank you for apologizing. You’re right. It was shitty.”
“It was.” I nod.
“But I don’t want to leave,” she adds, and a small spark of hope ignites in my chest. “I’m glad I’m here. It beats sitting in my cave all alone, and I figure I can get work done until Lennon gets here.”
“Okay.” I ignore the disappointment flooding me.
She’s just going to hole up in here until Lennon arrives, and that upsets me more than it should.
“Thank you for the pizza,” she says softly, and I give her a smile.
“Just holler if you need anything,” I tease, and she smirks.
“I do notholler.”
Memories of the night in my house flash through my mind, but I tamp them down.
“Good night, princess.”
“Good night.”
SIXTEEN
I manageto get a decent amount of work done in this tiny bedroom.
I finish and submit one article, then begin another. I email some clients. I accept a project. I enjoy this job much more than working for my father. In a perfect world, this side hustle would be my only hustle. The promise of that world is what keeps me going.
I can hear Chris moving around in the cabin the whole time, but he’s not distracting. I noticed there’s no television in the place. I wonder if he’s reading. If he were anyone else, I’d guess he was scrolling on his phone, but something tells me he doesn’t do that. He’s too present. Too grounded.
I smile to myself just as soon as I frown, his words from earlier playing over in my head.
I want to enjoy life without doing too much damage.
The statement was like a slap to the face, made worse by the fact that I’m pretty sure he actually means it. He’s not lying. He’s not trying to make himself look better. He’sactuallythat good, that kind.
Chris and I? We couldn’t be more different.
Sometimes when I’m around him, I almost forget what kind of person I am. I can almost believe I’m like him. Like I’m good and kind and unwilling to hurt anyone.
But then I remember.
I remember the cruel things I said to him yesterday just because I was hurting. I remember wanting to lash out and hurt him more.
I remember my name. I remember my past. I remember my goals.
I remember everything, and then I feel like a naïve fool for ever trying to wish for something else.
She is a Harper, and Harpers are poison.
