“Yeah,” I finally rip my eyes away and glance down at her. “You’ve said plenty. But I’m curious, Harper, where was your faith?”
“What?” She swallows as the tour guide prompts us all to follow him, but we remain where we are. “You talk a lot of gospel, but where was your faith?”
She searches my eyes, and I know she sees the hurt I’ve been holding for two years, just as clearly as I see the guilt in hers.
I let out a long breath. “Forget it.”
“Lance, we can talk about it.”
“No point, right? It’s been over for years.”
It’s a low blow, and completely the opposite of how I feel, but at the moment, I feel weak, with only shaky ground to stand on. She’s exposed me mere hours into our day together, she’s always seen me, seen through me, stripped me bare, and I forgot how uncomfortable that can be. And all I feel now is…anger.
Harper
It’s been an hour since he called me out on the sidewalk next to the statue. Since then, he’s been a living statue himself. After the tour, I suggested we go shopping, and he agreed because he still needed a gift for his mother.
“So, after the show, it’s back to auditioning. Nothing is ever guaranteed, but with Retro on my résumé, it could be a busy summer. At least I hope so.” I have no idea if he’s listening, but I’ve been rambling for five minutes, my nerves firing off. The start of our day was nothing short of spectacular, the last hour has been a fantastical freaking mess. He’s angry, and it’s apparent. When we were together, we rarely seriously fought, if ever. This dynamic between us hurts more because not only are we not together, but I have a feeling he regrets coming to New York.
“You have a lot going on, that’s for sure,” he speaks up finally, thumbing through some scarves.
“I’ve needed to be happy about being busy, right? Most dancers don’t get this far. I’m proud of myself.”
“Lots of me and I going on,” he mumbles before picking up a jewelry box.
“What’s that?” I heard him, and he knows it.
“Nothing.”
“I’ve missed you, you know? More than you can imagine.”
“Can’t imagine it at all,” he says, picking through a book he’s not reading.
“Can I help you two?” One of the store sales associates asks, and I shake my head and smile. When she takes her leave, I look over to Lance who stands fuming on the other side of a table filled with loose items. We’re in a mismatch shop full of mostly cheap junk, and I can’t imagine him finding anything for his mother here.
“Lance, I have missed you. Horribly.”
“Could have fooled me.”
I can only take so much. Irritated, I lift a designer coffee mug from the table.
“You like this for your mom?”
“No.”
“How about this?”
“Nope.” He’s not even looking at what’s in my hands.
“You sure? It’s a hide purse. Cute for a rancher’s wife, don’t you think?” This gets his attention, and stormy eyes lift to mine.
“Would you buy that for you?”
I look it over and shake my head. “Not really my style.”
“Bet it’s not.”
I can feel my ears reddening. Fuming, I eye a box on the shelf, snatch it and shove it into his chest. “How about this giant freaking purple dildo and matching anal plug!? Think Mom will like that?”