Harper
We get back to an empty restaurant. There’s only one table seated as we head back to the manager’s office. After Barney moved on to start his own restaurant, I basically took over as the restaurant manager. Officially, the position is empty, but I’ve been doing okay keeping on top of things. Eventually, I’m going to have to hire someone to manage my employees and handle things like maintenance and scheduling, but for now, I think I’m doing okay.
Martin and Patricia are in the office with Melanie and Craig. They all look tired and a little bit concerned.
Craig’s been at the restaurant as long as I can remember. He actually ran track with Blake in high school. They were inseparable until Blake left. Then they fell out of touch.
“Blake?” Craig looks surprised to see us walk in together. “I didn’t know you were back in town.” I half-expect the duo to hug and make up, but they don’t.
“Nice to see you, too,” Blake says flatly. The tone of his voice surprises me. I think it surprises his mother, too, because we both shoot him questioning looks. Blake ignores us.
“How long are you gonna be around, man? Wow, it’s been a long time.” Craig looks uncomfortable and awkward. I’ve never seen him like this before. Usually, he’s very huggy and touchy. Usually, he’s very friendly.
“Awhile. Just got back yesterday.”
“Oh, wow, and you’re back for good?”
“Absolutely.”
After awhile, Craig seems to realize that Blake isn’t going to talk anymore. He mumbles something to Patricia and Martin, but then he disappears out the door.
“What the hell was that about?” Patricia says once Craig is gone.
“I’m going to, um, check on my table,” Melanie says. She, too, makes a hasty exit, leaving the four of us in the office.
I shoot him a questioning look, trying to figure out what the hell their snippy reunion was about. Craig seemed weirdly uncomfortable with Blake’s presence and Blake seemed just as irritated.
“It doesn’t matter,” Blake says, shaking his head.
“Apparently it does,” Patricia says. “If it’s going to cause any trouble at the restaurant. I think you need to talk with Harper about it. Craig is one of the best workers here. Your father might not own the building anymore, but believe it or not, our family is connected to this place. If you and Craig are feuding, then I think we have a right to know.”
“Did you just use the word ‘feuding’ in a non-sarcastic way?”
“I thought you guys were best friends,” I shake my head. “I knew you eventually fell out of touch, but did you have some sort of fight? I thought it was one of those things where time just tore you apart.”
“I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“If Blake doesn’t want to talk about it, he doesn’t have to talk about it,” Martin tries to calm everyone down, but there’s something weird about the way Blake won’t meet my eye.
“Blake,” I say slowly, carefully, because he’s like a deer in the headlights right now. If there’s one thing Blake Cold has never been good at, it’s being in the spotlight. He gets nervous and jumpy and I’m afraid he’ll run away at any moment. Only, this time, he’ll be gone for good. “Did Craig tell you something after you left? Something that made you not want to go home? Something that made you not want to be his friend anymore?”
Blake sighs and runs his hand through his too-long hair. I shouldn’t like how messy and curly it is, but I do. It suits him, somehow.
“Yeah,” he finally looks me in the eye. “He told me about your engagement.”
“What?” Martin, Patricia, and I all speak at the same time. “What are you talking about, Blake?” I ask him. “Craig and I never even dated. We certainly weren’t engaged.”
Martin actually chuckles. “Harper’s never even looked twice at that boy, son. They were never even close to being engaged.”
Blake isn’t convinced, though. “He came to see me after I’d been gone a year. He told me I should stop writing to you because you didn’t enjoy getting mail from me, that you’d moved on, but didn’t know how to tell me.”
“What?” What the hell is he talking about? I’ve never viewed Craig as anything but a brother. We’ve never had any sort of romantic interaction. Ever. Hell, I don’t think we’ve even hugged more than a handful of times.
“He explained the entire situation,” Blake sighs. His hand is running through his beard: a sure sign that he’s nervous. “He told me you didn’t know how to reject me, that you thought simply not talking to me would be enough, but that it wasn’t.”
“He knew about the letters,” I say, suddenly realizing what Blake is saying. “He knew we’d been writing to each other.”
That means Craig is the one responsible for the fact that I never received any letters. That means he’s responsible for the fact that Blake never got any from me. That means Craig is the reason we’ve spent the last eight years apart when we could have been together.
It means he’s the one who tore us apart.
The realization is crushing, and suddenly, I feel like I can’t breathe. Someone I thought was my friend, someone I thought was there for me always, has betrayed me. How can I live with that realization?
Blake and his parents seem to realize this at the same moment because Patricia gasps, Martin growls, and Blake closes his eyes like he can’t believe we were all so stupid, like he can’t believe we all got tricked.
“He knew,” I whisper. “He knew I was writing to you every day. He even mailed some of the letters for me when I didn’t have stamps on hand. He walked me to school every day after you left and he saw me put the letters in the mailbox. He could have grabbed them out without me knowing. He could have done anything. He used to joke that he was going to put a piece of candy in the mailbox for the mail carrier as part of this service project he was doing, but I never even thought he might be grabbing the letters out at the same time.”
“What about mine?” Blake grits out. “I wrote you every day.”
“He walked me home after school,” I whisper. “We were always home before my parents. Always. He would run ahead and grab the mail to check if there was anything from you. After the first few weeks, I stopped even bothering to check the mail because it hurt too bad. Craig always checked for me, always said he’d tell me if you sent something.”
“You two spent a lot of time together.”
“I was lonely,” I whisper. “But nothing ever happened between us. We always just did our chemistry homework together and then he went home. I never even knew he thought of me that way.”
“Well, apparently, he did. Fuck!” Blake makes a fist and for a second, I think he’s going to punch the wall, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just shakes his head. “I can’t believe that fucker.”
“Now, son,” Patricia says, reaching for him. “Let’s try to consider this rationally.”
“Mom, there’s nothing rational about this. I love Harper. I was going to propose. You know this. You helped me pick out the damn ring. I hadn’t bought it yet, still had to save up, but we went and we picked it out and you said she was going to love it.” He looks at me sadly. “You were going to love it.”
Now it’s my turn to go pale because I had no idea Blake thought of me that seriously. If I’d known, I would have fought harder. I would have tried more, tried better. I would have been a better person. I would have figured something out.
But I just gave up because I thought he didn’t want me.
I quit.
And I lost him.
“Martin,” Patricia turns to her husband. “Let’s go for a walk, shall we? I think these two need a few minutes alone.”
“Good, good,” Martin practically hops to his feet and races out the door. Mr. Cold is like me in that he tries to avoid confrontation when possible. Neither one of us particularly likes dealing with that sort of thing.
Once Blake’s parents are gone, I hold my hands up in a sign of peace.
“I didn’t know,” I whisper. “I had no way of knowing, Blake. I’m so sorry.” I don’t want to cry again. Blake Cold has seen me cry more in the last four hours than anyone should ever see anyone else cry, but I can’t seem to help it.
Blake’s always had my heart.
He’s always been the one I loved.
And I thought he broke me.
I thought he broke my heart and left me, but that’s not what happened at all.
“I missed you,” he says, turning to me. His eyes pierce mine. He looks at me more passionately than anyone has ever looked at me. In the time he’s been gone, I’ve been with plenty of guys. I’m 26, after all. I’m no virgin. None of them has ever made me feel half as sexy, half as wonderful, half as perfect as Blake makes me feel right now.
In this moment, I am a goddess.
In this moment, I am unstoppable.
In this moment, I am his.
I’ve always been his.
He closes the distance between us and fists my hair, bringing my mouth roughly to his. I close my eyes as he kisses me hard and fast and deeply. Sparks shoot through my body at the connection and for just a second, I feel like I’m flying.
“I missed you,” he says again. Then he just keeps kissing me.
And kissing me.
And kissing me.