Chapter 35 - Zach
Harper hasn’t answered her phone all day. It must be turned off. I’m hoping so, anyways, because the thought of her blocking my number is driving me nuts. I might as well have taken a day off work because I haven’t accomplished a thing. I’m going to have to go talk to Harper. I need to hold her in my arms and I need her to be OK with me.
“Becca,” I say, pressing a button on my intercom.
Her tinny voice replies right away: “Yes, Mr. Lockwood?”
“Can you get me a bunch of nice flowers? I need them asap. Just get them brought here and I’ll take them.”
“Sure thing. What kind of flowers?”
I pause. I don’t even know the names of any flowers except roses. A dozen red roses seems a bit too… tired? Cliche? I don’t think Harper would go for roses.
“Uhh… I don’t know. Pink ones. And some white ones too. Something nice and big, something that says,” sorry, I’m here for you, I’m an idiot please talk to me, of course I’ll be there for you and the kid, “I love you.”
“No problem.”
The phone clicks and I sit back in my chair. I love you. The words just fell out of my mouth so naturally even though I could have said a million different things. Do I love Harper? Did I just say that out loud?! Those aren’t words that were in my vocabulary when it came to women. My mom, sure, I tell her I love her, but another woman? A romantic relationship?!
I rub my fingers over my eyes and blow the air out of my nostrils.
Of course I fucking love her.
I love her.
I’ve spent every waking minute either with her or wishing I was with her for the past three weeks. What else could it be? Every time I see her I get butterflies in my stomach. I didn’t even know that was a thing! I thought it was just an expression that people say, but I literally feel like butterflies are crashing around my stomach when Harper turns those green eyes towards me. I can’t get enough of her smell, her touch, her skin, her sex.
Is this what love is? Is it this out of control, amazing feeling that can turn to absolute shit at the drop of a hat?
I don’t know if I can handle this. I stand up and stretch my arms overhead before pacing back and forth in my office. I imagine her opening the door. In my mind she’s wearing a plain tank top and jeans and her hair is in a high bun over her head, exactly how she looked when she was lounging at my place.
Harper, don’t close the door.
Harper, hi.
Hi, Harper.
I love you.
I stop pacing and exhale loudly. None of it sounds right! None of it sounds good enough. How can I make her understand that I fucking love her? I would do anything for her!
I put a hand against the wall and close my eyes while I lean forward. My forehead touches the wall and I stay motionless for a few moments.
She’s pregnant, and I’m going to be a father. I’ve basically told her that I have no interest in being involved and I abandoned her right after we both found out. How the fuck am I going to make her think that I’m not an absolute deadbeat?
My heart starts thumping in my chest. I’ve messed up so badly. I could have held her hand, I could have looked her in the eye. I could have said ANYTHING! Anything except “so you’re keeping it.”
A knock on the door pulls me out of my head. Becca opens the door holding a massive bouquet of pink and white flowers. I don’t know how she got them so quickly.
“You’re a magician,” I say as I turn to her.
“That’s why I get the big bucks,” she responds with a grin. I make a mental note to review her salary.
Taking the flowers from her, I put my nose to them. Even these flowers remind me of Harper. They smell just as sweet as she does.
“Thanks, Becca.”
“Anytime. Who’s the lucky lady?”
“Just a friend,” I say, not looking at her.
“Mm-hmm,” she responds. The disbelief is written all over her face. I smile for the first time in forever. It feels like my face is cracking from the effort of curling my lips up.
“A good friend,” I explain.
“Sure, sure,” Becca says, still not changing her expression. “Anything else you’d want me to get your ‘friend’? A bottle of champagne? Some chocolates? A diamond ring? You know, while we’re buying friendly presents.”
I laugh. “Just flowers today.”
“She’s a lucky lady.”
I glance at Becca to see if there’s any hint of sarcasm in her. She smiles at me and her eyes soften. She’s telling the truth.
“I’m not so sure,” I say quietly. “I think I’m the lucky one.”
Becca nods and leaves the office. I put the flowers down on my desk and grab my jacket. I fidget with my clothes, my hair, I rub my face. The butterflies are back in my stomach, but this time they’re flapping their wings angrily, crashing around inside me as my heart beats against my ribcage. I’m nervous.
With one last breath I grab the flowers and head out. As I’m crossing the room I see a head pop up from a cubicle. It’s Rosie. She sees the flowers in my hand and one eyebrow inches up her forehead. We look at each other for a moment and she nods slowly.
I’ll take that as a good sign. At least she’s not yelling.