“I took some risks, and I got caught. Please don’t let that keep you from ever taking any risks at all.”
Harper’s stomach tightened. “It sounds like you’re trying to talk me into going to Chile with Wyatt.”
“I’ve watched you and Wyatt together for the last ten years. I don’t think a love like you two have should be tossed aside lightly.”
She hadn’t realized that she loved Wyatt until this summer. But then Wyatt’s words from Chile entered her head. He’d said he had waited ten years to hear her say she wanted him to kiss her. “You really think it’s something special?”
Her mother smiled enigmatically. “Don’t you?”
“I’ve never been in love before. I thought everyone felt like this.”
“Like you’re going to die without him?”
She nodded slowly. Rationally, she knew death was not a danger. But emotionally, it sure felt like it. “Yes.”
“Maybe that’s the way everyone in lust feels. But you and Wyatt had a strong friendship before any romance entered the picture. The lust feelings fade. Then there’s love. Which often starts out with those lust feelings, but develops over time. You and Wyatt built it the opposite way. You had a strong friendship for years first. Somehow your personalities just click. And you laugh together.”
Harper’s mouth kicked up. “That’s because he’s so funny.”
Ellie shrugged. “But you take his teasing exactly the way he means it. You don’t have to laugh. You could choose to be angry instead.”
“I want to laugh when I’m with him.” Sometimes she pretended anger. Sometimes she really was angry. But never for long.
“Not everyone makes you want to.” Ellie lifted her free hand in a hand-off gesture. “I’m not trying to talk you into anything. I’m just trying to make sure you see the whole picture.”
“If you were me, what would you do?”
Ellie waved her pointer finger back and forth. “No way, kiddo. That’s cheating. You have to make up your own mind.”
Harper leaned forward and Ellie pulled her closer in a tight hug.
She didn’t want to leave her mother. She didn’t want to leave the comfort and security of her home. She didn’t want to leave everything she’d worked for, either. Maybe because she loved those things and they made her happy. Or maybe because, deep down, she had allowed fear of change to dictate her life.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“How did the tenure vote go?” Wyatt asked as he strolled with Harper, hand in hand, down by the pond.
“I don’t know. Jeff hasn’t texted me yet.” Harper’s voice was soft, almost drowned out by the euphony around them—crickets and katydids, frogs and an occasional hoot owl.
Her voice might have been sad, almost lifeless, but her hand held tight to his. Maybe she held tight because of the darkness of the moonless night, but he figured it was more because his plane was lifting off in five hours. He had one hour before he needed to drive his rental car to the airport. The car was already packed. He’d said good-bye to the boys and Fink and Ellie.
Harper was his only loose end.
He’d known this was going to be painful. But he’d underestimated. His heart ached like it was covered in brush burns. The blackness in his chest resembled a bottomless pit. Probably normal. The tightness in his throat, the physical desire to hold her and never let go, and the slow, ponderous beating of his heart that sounded like a death toll didn’t really surprise him, either. But the actual, physical pain in his chest, now that was a shock. He couldn’t imagine that getting in the car and driving away wouldn’t hurt worse, but he wasn’t sure how it could.
A soft breeze brought the scent of pond life to them, earthy and real, usually soothing. Not tonight. Tonight, it burned like sand scraping in his chest cavity.
The stars reflected on the water, mocking him with their romantic beauty. A perfect night for romance. Instead he was saying goodbye. Somehow, he had to say goodbye.
“We could do this long distance.” Harper’s voice, floating softly on the evening air, contradicted his thoughts.
“That might be easier.” There was no joke on the tip of his tongue to ease this pain, no smart or teasing comment. He specialized in laughing under pressure. But there was no laughter tonight.
“It wouldn’t change anything,” she said.
“No,” he agreed. He pulled her hand, turning her until she faced him and he held her loosely in the circle of his arms. “I wasn’t going to ask, but I thought maybe if you didn’t get tenure tonight, you might consider…”
Her phone buzzed. She didn’t move. “That might be Jeff,” she whispered.
They stared into each other’s eyes.
He couldn’t bring himself to hope she didn’t get the tenure she wanted and had worked so hard for. He didn’t really want to be her last option, either. Who she chose when nothing else went her way. Of course, he’d take her any way he could get her. If he was her last choice, he’d be thrilled with that.
“Aren’t you going to look?” he finally asked, when her phone buzzed again.
She pulled her phone out of her pocket and glanced at the screen. A moment of silence passed. His head swam. He closed his eyes against the suspense.
“I got it.” Her voice was flat.
She shoved her phone back in her pocket and wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her head on his chest.
“I’m happy for you.” He choked out the words, meaning them, but his heart clenched, all the same.
The wind stirred the grass around them, rustling the leaves.
“Feels like rain,” she said, snuggled against his heart. She pressed tight. Her hands clutched the back of his shirt, as though silently begging him to stay.
“Smells like it, too.” He held her close, swaying slightly, although there was no rhythm or beat in the night music around them.
There was so much he wanted to say, but there was no point.
They stood like that for a while—he lost track of time in the dark—while clouds gathered and lightening blinked in the distance. The tangy smell of ozone blew in with the breeze.
He moved his hands down her back, savoring the feel of her, wishing with all his being they had a different ending.
A small voice whispered seductively in his ear, telling him he could change the ending. The power rested in his hands. All he had to do was give up the resort. Give up his relationship with his dad. Give up everything he’d ever thought he’d be. The thought brought hope and dread. Harper meant so much to him, but all his life he’d desired to win his dad’s love and attention. All his life he’d planned to take over the resort, eventually. He had finally committed to the plan. In order to do it, he had to give up Harper.
Wyatt shifted. He hadn’t checked the time in a while. “I’d better go.”
Her hand reached up and cupped his cheek. “Be careful.”
“You too.” He lowered his head, touching her lips with his. The explosion of passion still surprised him.
Several minutes later he raised his head. His chest heaved. He rested his forehead on Harper’s.
“Thank you for this summer,” he whispered. “It was the best time of my life.”
“Me too.” Harper’s breath fanned his neck as she spoke. “I want to prolong this. To ask you to call me when you get there so I know you arrived okay, to do what we’ve always done, but maybe it’s just better to say ‘this is the end’ and mean it.”
Despite the wisdom in her words, Wyatt’s heart twisted. He swallowed against the constricting of his throat, thankful for the darkness hiding the gathering tears in his eyes.
“Yeah.” He wouldn’t text her when his plane touched down. Wouldn’t Snap Chat the rising sun over the Andes Mountains. Wouldn’t tag her in his Facebook post. Wouldn’t wait for her text or call or tag. That was the payment for the kisses and the tender embraces. Giving up the friendship he’d had for the last ten years.
As though Harper was also coming to grips w
ith the unforeseen payment terms, she said, “You go. I’m going to stay here a little longer.”
“I’d rather see you to your apartment. So that I know you are safe before I leave.”
Uncharacteristically, she didn’t argue, but backed away and slipped her hand in his. They turned in tandem and walked to her apartment. The first big drops of rain hit them before they reached the cover of her small porch. The earthy scent of petrichor rose like mist around them. He inhaled it and would forever associate it with the incinerating pain of permanent separation.
He tamped the trauma down to be dealt with later. One more kiss, memorizing her lips, her shape, soft skin, the berry scent mixed with darkness and the smell of earth and sky accompanied by the far-off drum of thunder.
At last, he pulled back. If he didn’t leave now, he never would.
“I love you, Pickles.”
He turned, taking the few porch steps in one jump, jogging to his car, unable to tell if the wetness on his face was rain or tears.
Harper stepped off the porch. Rain pelted her face. Wyatt’s dark figure disappeared into the night. A flash of headlights. The fading of tail lights. Her heart collapsed in her chest and she slumped to the wet stones, curling down over her knees, holding her stomach with both arms. The anguish of her broken heart ripped out of her mouth in a wail which the pounding rain immediately enfolded and consumed.
He left.
The rain hit her back. Cold. Soaking her shirt, her hair.
With her forehead on her knees, she realized she hadn’t really believed he would go. She’d figured at the last minute he’d defy his dad, give up the luxurious life, his sporting friends, his family legacy, break his promise, and declare that she was far more important. Or at the very least, beg her to go with him. If he had asked, she would have given up everything and gone. Just like that. If he’d asked.
Especially after those parting words. Words she couldn’t even process yet.
But he hadn’t.
She hadn’t offered.
Harper squeezed her arms tight as lightening flashed. An elongated boom and crack split the air several seconds later. She ignored the display and tried to think. Think past the immediate pain. She tried to remember what her mom had asked. Something that had struck a chord with her. Security. She was using the university, tenure, her job, as security. It wasn’t really what she wanted, but she had worked for it because it represented security. She examined those words trying to find the truth in them.
She sat up, lifting her face to the rain, allowing it to pour down on her cheeks and closed eyes. Feeling the sharp pricks as the large drops hit her face, grounding herself in that little bit of pain. It didn’t dull the larger affliction inside, but rather gave her specific points of reference where she could focus. It seemed like her life boiled down to two choices. Being safe. Or being with Wyatt.
She lowered her head and blinked. That had to be too simple. There was more. But she didn’t know what.
Letting go of her stomach, she hooked her hands behind her head, as though holding her brain could make it function like the intellectual she knew herself to be. This wasn’t about a temporary pain. Logically, she knew the hurt of losing Wyatt would fade with time. Even if it felt like she were dying right now.
No. This was more about long-term. She could be secure with her job. Good money, familiar home and family. Live inside the walls she’d built around her life.
Or, she could risk it all for love. For Wyatt.
She rose and walked to her porch, standing at the railing looking out into the darkness. She couldn’t see the rain pound down on all the familiar things she knew and loved. But she knew they were there. The farmhouse where she grew up. The tractor shed. The office and shop. The pumpkin patch. The cornfield which would become the corn maze in another month. The squash, strawberries, gourds, and apples. The friendly, low mountains in the distance. Low enough that a normal person could hike over them in a day with no special equipment or training. Impossible to get lost in. Just walk downhill. So different from the towering Andes with the snowcapped peaks and frightening crevices, hot pools and challenging summits that swallowed whole airplanes.
A shiver ran through her.
She could have security, or she could have Wyatt. His smile, his touch, his strength, his humor.
Her job was a cop-out. She hadn’t worked hard because she loved it. She’d worked hard because she wanted the stability it brought.
Harper pulled out her phone. It was after midnight. She texted Jeff, then waited, phone in hand, while the storm abated. Her stomach churned, but peace had entered her soul. This decision was the right one. It still made her nervous.
Her phone buzzed. She jumped.
He was still up and was able to see her immediately. Despite the late hour, he didn’t even ask why. Probably he thought she was excited about the vote tonight. If it had mattered to her, she would have been.
Ten minutes later, she stood on the front porch of his suburban home.
“Harper, come in. You must be super excited. Let me tell you…”
“I’ll stay out here, Jeff. I’m so sorry to bother you tonight, but I know you’ve supported me, even when I really didn’t deserve it…”
He stopped with his mouth opened. His eyes skimmed up and down, no doubt noting her soaking wet clothes. His forehead wrinkled, and he said in a more subdued voice, “No one has worked harder than you.”
She drew in a lungful of courage. “Thanks. But I came here to tell you, I don’t want the tenured position. In fact, I’m going to hand in my resignation to the university just as soon as I can write it.”
Jeff’s eyebrows disappeared above his forehead. He reached out to take her arm. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
She shook her head and pulled her arm away. “The university has been my safety net for far too long.” She swallowed. The decision had been made, but it still scared her. “I’ve got some things I want to do, an opportunity I need to pursue. Maybe it won’t work out.” It had to work out. Right now, she was effectively cutting off her backup. Leaving herself with just one choice. “Maybe I’ll hate it, but I know if I don’t, I’ll always regret it.”
Jeff scratched his head, then shoved his hands in his pockets like he didn’t know what to do with them. He narrowed his eyes. “Someone else has offered you a better research position? You don’t know how lucky you are. Funding for these things is scarce and getting scarcer.” There was no mistaking the annoyance in his tone.
She shook her head. “It’s not research. I just have something else to do.”
His face declared his lack of understanding. There was no point in trying to explain something she wasn’t even sure she totally understood.
“I appreciate the opportunity to work with you,” she said before she spun and strode off his porch.
Maybe, at some point, she had entertained the idea of a relationship with this man. Now, after experiencing what she had with Wyatt, she knew anything with Jeff would have been only a shadow of what she could have had.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Back at the farm, Harper spent the rest of the night packing. She was tempted to call her mom, and she would, but she was an adult and did not need permission or help. Plus, she was almost sure after their conversation of the other day, that her mom wanted her to let go and live a little. As long as that included Wyatt.
She zipped up her second suitcase and looked around her bedroom. Most of her books would have to stay. There were piles on her nightstand, piles on her dresser, plus the overflowing bookcases. She couldn’t take them all. She might not even want to. She didn’t know if they’d live in the lodge or sleep in Wyatt’s old room. Since she’d never considered the possibility of leaving everything, the subject had never come up.
For now, if Fink and her mom needed the apartment, they would have to put her stuff in storage. Or throw it away. It didn’t matter. She was leaving this life. She didn’t need to be weighed down with extr
a baggage. That’s what she told herself anyway.
Standing in the doorway, she smiled sadly at the memories contained in the little apartment. Most of them from this summer. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. They would make new memories. Better memories.
Around five a.m., she brewed herself a cup of tea and walked down to the pond. Morning mist rose slowly from its surface. The sky glowed orange behind the mountain. She couldn’t see the tunnel—it was too far away and hidden by the trees that lined the river, but she thought fondly of her walk through it with Wyatt, despite the snakes and trains. That would be the rest of her life. Crazy adventure. Conquering fears and laughing with Wyatt.
There was still time to turn back.
She didn’t hear her mom walk down. Ellie just appeared at her elbow with her own cup of tea.
She didn’t mince words. “I’m leaving, Mom.”
Ellie slipped an arm around her shoulder. She swallowed and nodded but remained silent.
Harper continued to stare at the pond, tea in hand. “I got tenure, by the way.”
Ellie sighed.
“I drove to Jeff’s last night and told him I didn’t want it. I typed my resignation letter, bought my plane ticket—one way—and packed my stuff.”
Her mother squeezed her waist and leaned her head against Harper’s. “I hope you’re sure about this.”
Harper’s head swiveled to look at her mom. She thought her mom had wanted her to follow her heart. “I’m not some little teenager with stars in her eyes.”
“I know.”
“I love this farm. For the most part I enjoyed my job.” She shook her head. “But those things are nothing compared to how I feel about him.”
“As long as you’re sure.” Her mom’s lips turned up only a little.
The sadness on her mother’s face tore at Harper’s already battered heart. She nodded. “I realized when my phone buzzed last night, and I didn’t give a hoot one way or the other whether I got tenure or not, that my thinking had been wrong. That I had been doing what you said, making my decisions based on what was safe, and not on what I truly wanted.”
Better Together Page 21