Harden My Hart

by Clare Connelly

  I wish I’d been clearer on that score. I wish I’d told him that I love him despite the fact I can’t be with him. I wish I’d told him that he’s worthy of love—my love, his brothers’ love, that the man who raised him loved him. I wish I’d pushed that point home to him because the idea of Holden Hart being out there and not feeling like he deserves love makes me want to scream.

  My photography course starts. I concentrate on that to the best of my abilities, trying to keep Holden and memories of what we shared locked into a small part of my brain. I wonder if in time I’ll come to think of him less.

  But, no. That’s not love. I love him and therefore he’s a part of me—my breath, my thoughts, my smile, my sadness. Holden is in me and he always will be.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Three and a half months after meeting Holden

  SYDNEY IN SPRING can be a cranky mistress. The sky is an ominous grey, sparks of lightning flashing in the distance, a low rumble of thunder churning in my gut. I push one foot in front of the other, running a little faster, checking my watch. I’m at least a kilometre from home.

  The buildings—familiar by virtue of the fact I’ve been doing this run every night for the past three or so months—lead me down the streets I know well. Past the bakery that—even at night—smells like croissants, across the street to the gym where people are running, just like me, on treadmills though, illuminated by fluorescents rather than streetlights.

  I wonder if they’re running from something, like I am. I wonder if they’re running from loss, sadness. Heartbreak.

  Three months ago I came back to Sydney. I left Sundown Creek, my dad’s home, my old life, and this time I left it for good.

  It was one of the hardest things I ever did—but nothing compares to the pain of losing Holden.

  Missing Holden has become an essential part of who I am. In every breath I taste that pain. I ache for him. It is a cruel and awful reality to exist in and yet I hold onto my pain because it’s one of the only ways I have to know this is real.

  I turn a corner; the streetlight overhead flashes and a moment later lightning does the same. I flinch, drenched to the core and glad for that. I’m glad for anything that makes me feel alive now. Nothing compares to Holden—his touch, his kisses, his possession—but running like this comes close. My blood rushes, my heart races, my legs feel like they’re filled with jelly.

  I thought about moving out of the apartment. Memories of him are so vivid there, so much a part of everywhere I look, but in the end I stayed for that exact reason. Holden is everywhere I look and here, in some strange way, I can pretend—for a moment—that things ended differently for us.

  Now who’s running away?

  I grind my teeth, dip my head and run the rest of the way like this, pounding up the street and stopping only when I reach my front steps. I drop my head forward, inhaling deeply, trying to ease the pain in my lungs.

  Rain lashes my back; I don’t care. I stare down at my joggers, breathing in the clay-like air, humid and wet, acrid all the way to the back of my throat, and then begin to straighten right as a car door next to me opens. I turn to it on autopilot, reaching for the key I wear around my neck at the same time.

  I’m halfway turning back to my door when Holden steps out and everything inside of me lurches into a cataclysmic kind of life all over again. My heart jolts so hard against my chest I half think it’s going to do a Shawshank and burrow out through my ribs.

  I do a double-take. It can’t be him, right? It can’t be Holden. I see him everywhere, all the time. He’s burned into my eyes and it’s easy to transpose him into my local café, my course, my living room.

  Holden moves. I blink again. It’s really him. I try to remember to be angry with him, hurt, wary, careful but my heart twists and I know love is the strongest emotion I feel.

  Love—despite the fact he disappeared from my life. It’s been so long, and I have missed him so much and he’s been nowhere.

  It takes me a few seconds but I rally, straightening my spine and fixing him with a look that I hope passes for cool and indifferent.

  He comes around the car, crossing towards me, pausing frustratingly too far away.

  But on the one hand that’s good because at this distance I can stare at him and really see every detail. His broad chest, his immaculate dark suit, his handsome face, hair that is much longer than when I last saw him, a traditional guy style, dark and thick so I want to run my hands through it.

  ‘Cora.’ His smile is tight, his eyes locked to mine with an intensity that makes breathing almost impossible. ‘How are you?’

  Such a formal question! Has time done this to us? Made us feel like strangers? Rain pelts down, landing hard on his head, mine. Thunder rolls. I don’t move towards the door.

  ‘I’m...fine.’ I’m not fine. I haven’t been fine in a long time but if the past has taught me anything it’s that pain fades, or at least becomes more manageable. This, I suspect, will become a part of who I am, like a knot on a tree’s trunk. I’ll never get over Holden but one day I’ll become adjusted to living with the hurt he inflicted on me by leaving.

  He continues to stare at me without speaking, through the fast-falling rain. He stares at me with a frown on his face and I feel a thousand things in return—I feel anger that he’s here, outside my place when I didn’t expect him, so I’ve had no time to mentally prepare, no time to brace for this. My heart is in knots and my stomach too.

  Lightning slices the grey sky, some distance away. Thunder cracks. Holden shakes his head a little, as if rousing himself from a dream. ‘Sorry. I just...haven’t seen you in so long.’

  I swallow. It’s been three and a half months. Each day has felt like an insurmountable hurdle at the start, and each evening I am exhausted from acting as though I’m fine, my normal self, when I’m shattered into a thousand little pieces.

  I’ve missed him with every breath and I’ve questioned everything about what we were, what I felt, whether it was genuine or not.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about you.’

  Something like a fever runs through my veins. ‘Yeah?’

  His eyes flash. ‘Have you started your photography course?’

  I nod.

  His gaze roams my face. I’m completely drenched—the rain no longer bothers me. ‘Did you go back to your dad’s?’

  The line of questioning is odd, as though he has a checklist of things he wants to have answered. And then what? He goes away again? Is it possible he’s only seeking the same reassurance I was—that I’m doing okay?

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Would you...do you want to sit in here?’ He gestures behind him, to his SUV. I eye it warily and shake my head impulsively.

  ‘You’re getting wet.’

  ‘I know.’

  He nods, distracted.

  A frown draws at my brows but something shifts inside of me—an anger, an impatience, a frustration that maybe he’s here just to chat. ‘Holden, what’s this about? Why are you here?’ It comes out harsher than I intended but crushed hopes and an overflow of emotions make it hard for me to regulate anything.

  He looks at me for several seconds without speaking and I feel like I’m tipping off the edge of the earth. I’m so close to snapping; I can’t stand seeing him and not touching, standing opposite him as though we’re barely civil strangers.

  ‘God, Holden, is this some kind of game to you?’

  ‘No, Cora, Christ. Just...let me speak, okay?’

  But anger is humming through my veins, perhaps because it’s so much more preferable to anything else.

  ‘Then speak quickly. I don’t want to stand here in the rain all afternoon.’

  Nothing.

  ‘Holden—’ my voice holds a warning ‘—tell me why you’re here or, I swear to you, I will walk away right now.’

  ‘I came to
see you,’ he blurts out. ‘I came to Australia to see you.’

  I stare at him, my mouth dry, my pulse firing.

  He speaks quickly, perhaps afraid I’ll make good on my threat and storm off without giving him a moment to say anything else. The rain begins to fall more heavily so he has to shout to be heard, and he steps closer as well so he’s only a few inches from me. ‘The thing is, Cora, you were right that night. I’ve been running away since I found out the truth about my father. I’d been doing everything I could to not feel a damned thing for even longer than that. My whole life I was taught not to feel, not to show emotion, not to let anyone in. Learning that Dad—Ryan—wasn’t my father just underscored the importance of that. I was so messed up, and I had no intention of ever changing.’

  I stare at him, my heart slamming into my ribs.

  ‘Honestly, if I hadn’t met you I don’t think I would ever have woken up. So I came here to thank you.’ Thunder growls beneath his words. ‘I needed you to know that I’ve changed—or I’m working on changing—and that it’s because of you.’

  Relief spreads through me, a relaxation of a worry I didn’t even realise I’ve been carrying, but I have no idea what I can say.

  ‘I’m seeing a shrink.’ His expression isn’t rueful—he’s completely serious, and unapologetic. ‘I guess I needed to talk it out, to get a different perspective, and it’s helping. Just like you said.’ He stares at me, his eyes loaded with ferocious strength. ‘I’m not drinking. I don’t want to drink.’

  My stomach squeezes and I close my eyes because, of all things, this I needed to know most. I love Holden Hart and I need to know that he’s not wasting his life, that he’s not destroying himself.

  ‘I’m working on things with my brothers and I’m working on letting go of the past too. I’m trying to be less messed up.’

  There’s nothing but the sound of the hammering rain. I clear my throat and try to decide what to say because I feel as though all of this needs some kind of acknowledgement, but the problem is, I just feel too much—how can I distil it into words?

  ‘I’m glad.’ Stupid, insufficient acknowledgement is all I offer.

  The air crackles. After all that we’ve shared, how can there be this kind of awkwardness and uncertainty?

  He frowns. I know he’s feeling it too.

  ‘Please come and sit in the car.’ He gestures to it, his eyes briefly dropping to my body, so sparks lift within my blood. I repress them, ignoring their familiar pull, because sparks and Holden are inevitable but they don’t solve anything.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I insist. I’m not fine. I’m a mess, my heart, my head, my body, my brain, all at odds, all unsure and hurting and wanting me to say and do completely different things.

  ‘You know you asked me about that tattoo?’ He gestures to his chest, where the Greek word is inscribed. I can picture it perfectly, beneath his shirt.

  I nod, not quite meeting his eyes, heat spreading through my veins like molten lava.

  ‘It’s Greek.’

  ‘I gathered.’

  ‘Theo’s half-Greek. He dared us to get the tattoos. We were drunk.’ His smile is nostalgic. ‘We each got one.’

  ‘Matching ones?’

  His eyes trap mine. ‘No.’

  ‘So what did they get?’

  ‘Jagger got Zeus because he runs the construction arm of the business. Theo got Poseidon because he deals with our maritime operations.’

  ‘And you?’

  There’s a haunted quality in his eyes, a pain that’s familiar to me because I’ve seen it on his face before. And then he exhales and relaxes, offers me a small smile. ‘It’s Hades. The devil.’

  My intake of breath is involuntary. Perhaps he mistakes it for a shiver because he makes a gruff noise of frustration then moves, putting a hand lightly on my elbow, guiding me up the stairs to the small portico that offers some protection from the weather.

  ‘I run the casinos,’ he explains once I’m out of the rain. ‘The dark side of our empire.’ He lifts a hand and draws it across the back of his neck. ‘But it’s more than that. All my life I’ve felt like an outsider. I’ve been angry and lonely, someone who doesn’t trust easily. I never fit in with the Harts.’

  I consider this. ‘You had a far from normal upbringing.’

  ‘True.’

  ‘That leaves marks.’

  ‘Yes, it does.’ His nod is slow. ‘I’ve grappled with this darkness inside of me and never wanted to deal with it. Until I met you, Cora, and I realised that the thing I wanted most on earth—you—was so far out of my league it’s not funny.’

  I press my back hard to the wall, the pressure there necessary to hold me upright.

  ‘God, Cora, I don’t know if I have any right to tell you this, but all I could think about, all I’ve thought about every day since I left Australia, was coming back here when I was like this—sober and facing up to everything I’ve been dealing with, really facing up to it—and telling you how I feel.’

  I brace for this, I brace as though I’m in an aeroplane being dragged towards earth, as though oxygen masks are falling from the ceiling.

  But he’s quiet, like he’s waiting for me to say something again.

  ‘Go on.’ The words are raspy, throaty, strangled inside of me.

  ‘My dad—Ryan—was pretty fucked up.’

  I want to scream. The disappointment is unending. What the hell does his father have to do with this?

  ‘He married a lot of women. Destroyed even more. He was a bastard. A selfish, arrogant bastard. Which makes his decision to raise me even stranger. But that’s not my point.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘No.’ He runs his hand over the back of his neck again. Is he nervous? That’s ridiculous to contemplate because he’s Holden bloody Hart but he seems to be having trouble getting this out.

  I wait, breath held.

  ‘I never expected the whole “happily ever after” thing for myself. Hell, I never wanted that. I’m not that kind of guy, right? I’m just like him. It wasn’t until I met you that I realised everything I thought I knew—about myself, life, love, everything—was wrong. Everything was wrong, Cora, and you were so right. I fell in love with you and that was the catalyst for every change I made.’ He stops talking, stares at me then seems to gather himself, visibly calming. ‘And I don’t want you to think that I only changed for you. This is about me, and the kind of man I want to be. But you woke me up to that. You made me see I could be different, that I could be more. You gave me a reason to want to be more.’

  Tears are thick in my throat. Love floods my veins.

  ‘I told myself three months was long enough—to convince myself that the changes were lasting, and to show you I meant this. I couldn’t come back after one month even though, believe me, Cora, I wanted to. I have ached to see you, to talk to you, every day since I left.’

  My heart soars and splinters, all at once. ‘I’ve missed you too.’ Such a bland way to explain what I’ve been feeling!

  He nods slowly. ‘I came here today because I wanted to apologise to you.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘I was in a really bad place. You were beautiful and kind and I acted like an asshole. I came here because I don’t have a lot of friends, and I was hoping we could be. Friends.’

  ‘Friends,’ I repeat, nodding when my heart is groaning under the weight of disappointment.

  ‘I miss you. I want you in my life, Cora.’ A muscle jerks low in his jaw. ‘If you think that’s possible.’

  I stare at him, confused and lost. ‘I want you in my life too,’ I say honestly. ‘But not as a friend.’

  His eyes lock to mine and something flares between us. I wouldn’t notice a reaction at all if it weren’t for the way his chest stills, as though he’s holding his breath.

  ‘I fell in love
with you, Holden. Messed up, angry, lonely you. I’m glad you’re getting help and that you’re dealing with all your stuff, but I loved you at your worst. Why the hell do you think I wouldn’t love you now?’

  He makes a noise that’s half-groan, half-laugh. ‘Why would I think that? Because I shouted at you and reduced what we were to “sex” and then disappeared out of your life completely.’

  ‘And that hurt, believe me. But you did it for me; I knew that at the time and I know that now. You were protecting me, trying not to hurt me. I got it. It made me love you all the more.’

  Another sound of surprise. ‘I thought about you every day too, Holden. I didn’t want you to disappear from my life and I never wanted you to feel like you had to face your battles on your own. I wanted to—and always will—stand shoulder to shoulder with you, no matter what you’re staring down. I just needed you to want to stare it down too. I want to support you, I want to help you, and I want to be with you.’ And when he still doesn’t say anything I reiterate, ‘I love you.’

  Now he moves, closing the distance between us completely, our wet bodies melded together, his mouth seeking mine, his kiss so familiar, his body so warm and strong despite the rain, so perfect that I lose myself in his arms—or is it that I find myself right here, with the only man I’ve ever loved?

  ‘You have term holidays next week, right?’

  I blink, surprised by the rapid change of subject. ‘Um, yeah. Why?’

  He expels a small sigh. ‘I was wondering how you’d feel about coming to Alaska with me.’

  ‘Alaska?’ I laugh. ‘For a little salmon fishing?’

  ‘Sure. And to see the Northern Lights.’

  My heart skips a beat. ‘You want us to go see the Northern Lights together?’

  ‘Baby, I want us to go everywhere together, but let’s start there first.’

  I bite down on my lip, happiness bursting through me, brighter than the Aurora Borealis could ever be.