Breaking Clear (Full Hearts Series Book 3) (31 page)

He turned, jogged down a couple of steps, then turned and came back up. “You know what I just realized? You’re exactly like your mother! No, you’re worse than your mother. You’re a combination of her and Avery. Uppity, selfish and self-absorbed! You don’t give a shit who you hurt as long as you get what you want!”

They stared at each other, both wide-eyed with shock at his words. He’d gone too far and he knew it. He regretted the words as soon as they had left his mouth. He watched as she sucked in some air; he saw the pain in her eyes and how her body went rigid. Then she slowly shut the door, saving him from seeing any more. He stood for a moment, his legs cemented to the step, reeling from what he’d just done.

He had wanted a fight. He wanted her to say horrible things back, to give him a solid reason to hate her. If he could hate her, he could forget that he had ever loved her. But she hadn’t taken the bait. She hadn’t given him a fight, and that was nothing like her. Harper was a fighter. She’d always been a fighter, from the time he’d first seen her over twenty years ago. He could remember a moving truck parked in front of the house next door, and Harper and her brothers spilling out of a station wagon behind it and onto the sidewalk in a full-out brawl. He had watched from his living room window as she delivered a blow to Craig’s chin and another quickly to his crotch, bringing her much bigger brother to his knees. In all the years he had known her, Harper had never backed down from a fight like she had just done now. And that all but broke his heart to see.

Beyond wanting a fight, deep down in a place he would never admit existed, he wanted her to tell him she had changed her mind about New York, that she could never leave him, no matter what opportunity came along. He wanted her to beg him to take her back, to tell him she wasn’t going. And if she had just done that, if she had promised to stay, he would have asked her to stay forever. He would have told her how sorry he was for every unkind word, every lie about wanting to be rid of her. And he would have picked her up and carried her back to his place so they could make love all night and go right back to where they were before her Manhattan magazine had come calling for her again. But she hadn’t done that either. No fight. No begging to be taken back. She had just stood there staring at him as though she didn’t know him at all. And this confused him more than anything else she could have done. Was she too devastated to fight, or had she never really cared at all?

*     *     *

Harper shut the door quietly and locked it before sliding to the floor and dissolving into tears, praying he couldn’t hear her sobs. How could he say such horrible things to her? He’d said she was worse than her mother. Maybe it was true. She didn’t know how to love. She had chosen her comfortable old life because it was what she wanted. Because it was safe.

She didn’t hear the back door open or her father come in. She was still a crumpled mess on the floor when she saw his feet in front of her and his cane next to his left foot. Wiping her tears, she watched as he rested his cane against the wall before leaning forward and reaching out for her. Placing her hands in his, she felt her dad’s firm grip as he hoisted her up to him and pulled her in for a long hug. Patting her on the back, Roy made gentle shushing sounds as she sobbed.

“I take it Dickhead just came by?”

Laughing a little at her dad’s foul language, she nodded.

“Come on,” he said, taking one hand from behind her back and grabbing his cane. Turning them both toward the kitchen, he kept his other arm wrapped around her shoulder as he started walking. “I bought you some ice cream at the store. Mint chocolate chip—your favourite when you were a little girl. You looked like you could use some today.”

“Thanks, Dad,” she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder for a moment.

That night, as she finally drifted off to sleep, she thought of how her dad had taken care of her. He knew what it was like to have your heart stomped on, and he had genuinely seemed content to help her through it. Tonight, through her tears and some ice cream, Harper realized that even if Evan didn’t love her, at least she’d always have the love and support of her father. That alone was reason enough for her to have come home.

Manhattan, New York

“Harper, you’re finally here!” Blaire stood up behind the enormous glass desk in her office. “Did you get settled in at your apartment?”

Harper nodded, pasting a smile onto her face, hoping it would eventually cause her to actually feel happy. Or, at the very least, no longer devastated.

“Oh, it’s so wonderful to have you back!” Blaire swept across the room and gave her a big hug. “Did you see your new office?”

“I did,” Harper answered. “It’s terrific.”

“Well, it’s important that you like it. You’ll be spending the next decade or so in it.” Blaire’s enthusiasm was overflowing. “I made sure Jasmine set things up for you just the way you like. Go ahead and take an hour to get your bearings, then come find me so we can have a planning session, okay?”

“Actually, I’d like to get started. I’m ready.”

“Even better!” Blaire said, grinning.

*     *     *

That evening, Harper and Blaire were the last two people in the building. Harper arched her back and rolled her neck, trying to work out some kinks. Her eyes hurt from staring at a screen for so long, but she and Blaire weren’t going to be finished for a few more hours.

Blaire glanced over at her. “Tired?”

“A little, yeah,” Harper answered.

“You’ve gotten out of pace since you left. You’ll get back into it soon enough, though. It just takes a while to get used to.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” Harper rubbed her eyes with her fingertips. “Blaire, do you ever think it might not be worth it? Working like this?”

Blaire gave her a blank look.

“I mean, this pace. This lifestyle. Two weeks of every month are really quite insane, when you think about it. We’re here almost fourteen hours a day.”

“Yes, but we’re at the top, Harper. We’re leading the fashion industry. Isn’t having that kind of power worth putting in some long hours?” Her eyes glowed with enthusiasm.

Harper glanced to the ceiling, trying to decide. “I don’t know anymore. I used to think that, but now I’m not so sure. Now I can’t help wondering if someday I’ll look back and regret giving my life to a magazine.”

“Uh-oh, don’t tell me you’re hearing the ticking of your biological clock, because I don’t think I could handle that right now.”

“No. It’s not that. It’s just that when I was in Boulder, I did creative work that felt important too, but I still had time for a life outside my job. You don’t ever feel like you’re missing out?”

“Not for a minute. You know what all those bored housewives wish they were doing? Jet-setting around the world for photo shoots, dining with celebrities and living the life of glamour that you and I have. I bet there isn’t one of them out there scrubbing macaroni and cheese off the bottom of a pot who doesn’t wish she were here doing exactly what we’re doing right now.”

Harper nodded. “Maybe you’re right.”

Blaire put down her pen. “I know I am. You’re just missing that ex of yours, that’s all. Wait until Fashion Week. Once you surround yourself with all the glamour and delicious men again, you’ll forget all about your house builder from Boulder.”

*     *     *

Boulder, Colorado

The sun was setting, giving way to cold winter air as Evan shut off the heater and put the last of his tools into his tote. The house he had been working on that day had just reached lock-up stage and he was pleased with how it was coming along. The windows and doors had been installed earlier that week, which was always a relief to him as well as to the homeowners. The sound of a car door slamming caught his attention and he peered around the corner and out the front room window. His heart skipped a beat as his ex-wife made her way gingerly over the snow-covered yard, smoothing her hair with one hand. In the other was a large yellow envelope. After the shock of seeing her wore off, it was the envelope that held his attention. What could she possibly want after all this time? The divorce had been final for over two years already. Swearing under his breath, he made his way over to the front door.

“Hello, Avery.” He kept his tone flat, doing his best to make his face expressionless.

She stared at him a moment before answering. “Hi, Evan. You look good.”

“Thanks.” He knew she’d be expecting a compliment in return, but he was in no mood to offer one.

She waited a moment, looking very uncomfortable, before speaking again. “I guess you’re wondering what I’m doing here.”

He gave a nod. “I’m especially curious about that envelope in your hand.”

A look of understanding crossed Avery’s face as she glanced down at it. “Oh, right. Of course. I imagine seeing your ex-wife with one of these could make a guy break out in a cold sweat. Nothing legal, I promise. I was going through a box of old things, and somehow I still had the original copy of your birth certificate and a few old photos.”

“You could have mailed them,” he said, hoping to draw out her real reason for being there.

She shifted uncomfortably in her high-heeled boots. “I’m getting remarried. I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else.”

“Oh.” His head jerked back a little in surprise. “Congratulations,” he said, his voice quiet. He reached for the envelope.

“You remember Trent?”

“Trent Baxter? Your divorce attorney?”

Avery gave him a sheepish look. “I know. But we’re really good together.”

“Well, that’s important,” he said, wishing she’d leave so this awkward moment would be over.

“That it is.” There was a sadness in her eyes. It was a very familiar look; it was the expression she had worn during the last several months of their marriage.

“I know you blame me,” Avery said suddenly. “You think I left you because the money was running out, but that’s not true. I keep thinking of what you said to me, about how I had my fingers crossed behind my back when I said the ‘for poorer’ part. And it really kills me that you think that.”

Evan’s eyes hardened on her. “That’s exactly why you left, Avery.”

“Not it wasn’t, and it hurts that you think that about me.” Avery’s eyes glistened.

“Should it really matter what I think?”

“It shouldn’t, but somehow it does. I left because you kept pushing me away. You never let me in, Evan. When things started falling apart, you just wouldn’t talk about it. You refused to lean on me. And that’s all I needed. For you to lean on me sometimes.”

“So now it’s my fault that you were so angry about losing everything?” Evan scoffed.

“I wasn’t angry about the house. I was angry that you wouldn’t let me help. You shut me out, month after month, leaving me to wonder what was happening, telling me you’d figure it out. You’d go into your office when you got home from work every night and shut the door, and I sat there worrying and waiting for you to just come out and tell me the truth. That things weren’t going well and we were in trouble. That’s what married people do. They talk to each other and they fight and they figure it out together when a crisis hits. But you just started making decisions for both of us without even consulting me. And it hurt, Evan, it really hurt. I wanted to be your partner, not just some arm candy you married.”

“Is that what you thought?” Evan’s eyes softened a little. “I never thought of you as arm candy. I didn’t talk to you about it because I didn’t want you to be as stressed as I was. I was trying to protect you from all of it. I knew I could handle it on my own, but you didn’t give me time. If you had just trusted me, we would have been fine.”

“It had nothing to do with trust.” Avery shook her head and stared down at the wooden floor for a moment. “I married you because of you. You were confident and fun and easygoing and thoughtful, and I fell in love with you. Not your bank account. But then you stopped being you and you stopped loving me. You kept pushing me away, no matter what I tried.”

“That’s not true. You were furious that we were going to lose everything and you know it, so don’t try to rewrite history just because the truth makes you look bad. You were so desperate to keep the house you got your father involved, even knowing how I’d feel about that.”

“You know I asked for his help because we were drowning! It would have killed my parents if we had gone bankrupt without even asking for a hand. You didn’t cause the recession. They knew that.”

“How could you possibly think—You know what? It doesn’t matter. We’ve had this fight a thousand times. Nothing’s going to change the past now.”

Avery looked up at the ceiling, rubbing her hands from her neck to her cheeks in frustration. Swallowing hard, she looked back at him. “I didn’t come here to fight, Evan. I just wanted you to know it wasn’t about the money. I hate that you think I’m just some spoiled brat who couldn’t handle the fall when, really, what I couldn’t handle was the loneliness.”

“Well, thanks for sharing that. I feel much better knowing that you blame it all on me,” Evan answered, his words laced with sarcasm.

“I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad, Evan. I’m telling you so you don’t make the same mistake again if you ever find the right woman. I hope you’ll be able to pull her in to you when you feel like pushing her away. I want you to be happy.”

“I can tell.” He folded his arms across his chest and set his jaw.

Avery reached up and placed her delicate fingers on his forearm. “I really do want you to be happy.”

Evan let his body relax a little. “Okay, Avery. Okay. I know, in your own way, you’re trying to help. I hope you and Trent do better than you and I did.”

“Thanks.” Taking a step forward, she stood on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I hope you find happiness.”

Avery walked down the front steps of the house before turning back to him. “Congratulations on making it back to the top. I knew you would.”

*     *     *

That night, as Evan sat watching sports highlights, he couldn’t get the conversation with Avery off his mind. Why the hell was it bothering him so much? Shutting off the TV, he made his way to the pool table and racked up the balls. He selected his favourite cue, lined up the white ball and starting taking shots. The sounds and the sight of the balls rolling over the smooth felt were somehow soothing to his ragged nerves. Then it hit him. Avery’s words upset him because he’d already blown it. He’d already pushed Harper away when he should have pulled her toward him. And now that she was gone, it was too late.