The fire burning inside me starts to spark up again. Where I felt empty and hollow a few minutes ago I feel a love start to grow. Love for my child. I’m going to be a mother. The warmth grows and grows and grows until my chest feels completely full. All that matters is having a healthy, happy baby. I’ll figure the rest out.
Maybe Doctor MacDonald was right, it really is a miracle baby. My own Christmas miracle, I think with a smile.
“I won’t let anybody hurt you, ever,” I whisper to my stomach. “I mean that.”
I feel so full of love that I might explode. I don’t need Zach, I don’t need anybody. I lay back in bed and close my eyes with both hands cupping my stomach. I take a deep breath and feel myself drifting off to a deep sleep for the first time since I left Zach’s apartment.
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.
Chapter 36 - Harper
I glance at my phone, still sitting on the kitchen counter where I left it last night. It’s completely flat, and I haven’t had the heart to charge it. What if Zach has tried to call me, and what if he’s mad? What if he said something awful about the baby, or about me or about getting rid of it? I don’t think I’ll be able to handle him being mad at me.
What if he hasn’t called?
That’s even worse. I look at the blank screen and feel my pulse speed up. For almost 24 hours I’ve been alternating between crying, sleeping, and watching TV like I’m some sort of zombie.
I grab the phone and stick it into the charger. Might as well find out where we stand. It seems to take forever to turn on. The screen lights up and then goes dark again and I sigh. It must need a few minutes to charge before I can turn it on.
Stupid phone.
The black screen stares back at me, taunting me with its uselessness. I huff and turn around. I guess a few more minutes of silence won’t kill me. I start pacing up and down my living room as I wait. I’ll have to call him.
Hey, Zach.
Hello Zach.
Hi.
We need to talk.
I need to talk to you.
Listen, I’m having this baby whether you like it or not!
I care about you and I’d love it if you were a part of our child’s life.
Our child.
I stop walking and put my hands on my hips. I have no idea what to say to him. He was so catatonic when we got the news, so dismissive. It’s like I turned into a completely different person. How could he be so callous?!
I’m not even sure I want someone like that in my life, in my baby’s life! Sure, the baby’s dad will be rich but do I really want someone like that around my child?! Someone who can just change their whole personality the minute they get some unexpected news?! Someone who
se first instinct is to get an abortion???
My hand flies to my stomach again as if to reassure the baby that I’m not going to let that happen.
I glance towards the table where I left my phone and see it light up as it turns on. I’m not sure I’m ready for this.
I start walking towards it when there’s a knock on the door.
Zach?
My heart starts thumping in my chest. What if he’s here? What would I say?? My phone starts buzzing and beeping as it connects to the network. There’s another knock on the door, more insistent this time.
I glance at the screen. I have eight missed calls and 4 messages from Zach, and two messages from Rosie. Relief floods through me. He wants to talk to me! He must be here. I glance towards the door and practically run towards it.
There’s one more knock.
“Coming!” I call out.
I stand on the other side of the door. My hand is trembling as I reach for the doorknob. I put my hand on it and take a deep breath. I try to think of what I want to say but all thought has evaporated from my head. I can hardly stand up straight I’m shaking so much. I close my eyes for a second and inhale deeply. This is it.
I turn the doorknob and slide the deadbolt out. I swing the door open and feel my heart flutter in my chest.
Confusion writes itself on my face when I see the person standing at the door. It’s not Zach. It’s a man wearing a hoodie, facing away from the door. I frown, and the flutters in my chest turn to thumping heartbeats.
“Hello?” I hate how uncertain my voice sounds.
The man turns around slowly and I stumble backwards. Fear crawls up my spine as he smiles a toothy grin.
“Hello, Harper.”
My phone rings behind me where I left it plugged into the charger on the table. I can’t tear my eyes away from the man.
“Greg,” I breathe. His eyes are sharp and menacing and I’m frozen to the floor. He licks his lips slowly as he watches me. A bead of sweat drips down the side of his face. We look at each other as my phone buzzes behind me.
“Your phone is ringing,” he rasps.
Suddenly it’s like the spell is broken. I try to slam the door but he’s too fast. He sticks his boot in the doorway and shoves it open, sending me sprawling to the ground. Before I can pick myself up, he’s on top of me.
I swing my arms and kick and try to scream but in an instant he has something over my mouth and nose. It’s a cloth. I take a deep breath to try to scream and inhale a sickly sweet scent. Suddenly I’m dizzy, my limbs feel heavy, my eyes are blurry. Before I can stop myself I try to inhale again and everything goes dark.
Chapter 37 - Zach
As I pull up to Harper’s apartment block I have to smile. I’ll talk to her and hold her and fix this. She’s in here and so is my kid. My kid! I’ve never felt anything as strong as what I feel for Harper, and now she’s carrying my first child.
The doctor said it was a miracle baby - maybe he’s right.It’s a miracle that Harper and I found each other, it’s a miracle that I let her into my life, it’s a miracle that she got pregnant when she was told it was impossible.
I put the car in park and think about her face after the first time we slept together. When I asked her about birth control I’d seen such raw pain in her face, and now I know why. She thought she wasn’t able to have kids. I could see the pain in her face before I took her to the doctor and now it makes sense.
I’m going to be a father. My chest heaves as I take a deep breath. Somewhere in that apartment block is an amazing woman and she’s carrying my child. I can hear the blood rushing in my ears when I think about raising a kid. It’s terrifying and exciting at the same time.
It’s almost as terrifying as the thought of walking up those steps and facing Harper. No, not facing her. Grovelling. I’m prepared to beg, grovel, plead, do whatever I need to do to make her understand that I made a mistake.
I’ll tell her I’ll be there for her and the baby. I’ll tell her I made a mistake. I’ll tell her I reacted horribly and I’m sorry.
I’ll tell her I love her.
The thought of saying those words out loud instantly makes my palms start to sweat. I’ve never put myself on the line like this before. There’s never been more than just sex with a woman and me. The flowers that Becca chose are sitting in the passenger’s seat. I grab them roughly and open the door.
This is it.
I pause when my foot hits the ground. Maybe I should warn her that I’m here. Give her a heads up so that I’m not just showing up at her door. I pull out my phone and dial her number.
It rings! She didn’t block my number.
“Come on, Harper, answer!” The phone rings and rings until her voice comes on over the receiver.
“Hi, I can’t come to the phone right now. Leave a message!”
I sigh and try her again. It rings out to voicemail again.
“Damn it!”
Her apartment building looks dark and uninviting. I shake my head. I’m just delaying this because I’m nervous. I need to just get up there and see her and explain how I feel. I climb out of my car and walk up the steps and find the door to the building propped open with a small doorstop. I push it open and look at the steps. I don’t even know what apartment she’s in. There’s an intercom and a list of names, so I ring the number for H. Anderson.
It buzzes and buzzes without a response. I frown. I try it again with no luck. What if she isn’t home? I glance up the stairway and then look at the bunch of flowers in my hand. Should I wait in my car? I spin around in a circle, uncertain of what to do. What if she’s here, she’s just ignoring me?
I NEED to see her. I need to tell her how I feel! I need to apologise for being an absolute ass! If she’s here then I have to at least try to look into those eyes of hers and tell her the truth, that I love her and I’ll do anything for her. I was in shock yesterday, but I want to be with her. I can’t say that I’m ready to be a dad, but I can try.
I see a stack of old junk mail in the corner and rush over. Rifling through the old envelopes and flyers, I try to spot her name. Surely she’d have her apartment number on it?
I’m starting to lose hope when an old magazine catches my eye.
The Economist.
“Of course,” I say under my breath with a grin. She’s always learning. And there it is - right under her name. Apartment 407.
I roll the magazine and slip it into my jacket’s breast pocket. I practically run up the stairs and by the time I make it to the fourth floor I’m panting. Don’t apartment buildings have elevators these days?!
“I need to work out more,” I say to myself. I glance at the wall and see the arrow pointing left for apartments 401-412. I turn down the hallway and half-walk, half-jog down.
My heart is beating faster than it was running up the stairs, which I didn’t think was possible.
401, 403, 405… 407!
I skid to a stop in front of her door. Taking a few deep breaths, I try to calm my beating heart. I smooth my hair back by running my fingers through it. With one more breath and hold the flowers upright and ball my fist.
My knock sounds hollow against the door. I knock three times.
Tap-tap-tap.
No answer. I knock again.
Tap-tap-tap-tap.
Still nothing. I sigh, raising my hand one more time and slamming it against the door.
“Harper!”
I wait for two, three, four seconds but all I hear is the sound of silence. I hold my breath and try to listen for any movement inside, any indication that she’s home. I can’t hear a thing. I try knocking again but when no one answers my chin drops to my chest and I sigh.
She’s either not here or she doesn’t want to see me.
M feet felt light as a feather a few minutes ago when I was running up the steps, but now it feels like my boots are made of lead. I drag myself away from the door and make my way to the steps. At
the top, I glance back down the hallway, just in case she’s there waiting to run into my arms.
The empty hallway stares back at me, taunting me. I sigh and turn back to the stairs. I trudge downwards, swinging the flowers back and forth with every step. The tops of the flowers are brushing the edges of the stairs as I go down, but I don’t care.
She probably wants nothing to do with me. What would a couple flowers change?
I push the front door open and walk down the steps. My mind is swirling with all kinds of thoughts about Harper, about seeing her, about apologising. I can’t focus on anything and it feels like all my thoughts are rushing at me all at once.
It’s not until I’m almost at my car that I see the man leaning against it. I stop in my tracks and my brow knits together as an unnerving smile paints itself across his lips. My blood runs cold as I recognise him.
“Hello, Mr. Lockwood.”
“Greg Chesney,” I breathe. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Chapter 38 - Zach
His eyes slide over me and I almost shiver. There’s nothing in them - no emotion, no anger, no fear. He’s completely dead behind the eyes. He makes me just as uncomfortable as he did at the Christmas party.
“What are you doing here?”
He holds up his hand and something glints. I frown, but stay rooted in place. I don’t want to get any closer, and I’d prefer it if he stopped leaning against my car. I’d prefer it if he disappeared forever and never came anywhere near me or Harper, but that doesn’t seem to be happening.
“I could ask you the same thing. I told you to stay away,” he growls as he holds up the item a little bit higher. I stare at it until I finally realise what it is.
“Harper’s ring.”
“Harper’s ring!” He shouts. “That I gave to YOU as a warning, and now I find it on her finger?”
“So it was you who sent it to me,” I say.
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