But she was already starting her car, the engine sparking to life. He pulled at the door knob, but she’d already locked it.
“Are you okay?” he shouted above the rumble of the engine, even though he knew she wasn’t. “Let me talk to you, explain things. This can’t be good for the baby.”
Her hands trembled as she shifted the car into reverse, her knuckles bleaching as she grasped onto the wheel. He rapped on the window. “Harper,” he called. “Please.”
Her eyes slowly met his. And what he saw in them almost killed him; hurt, anger, and worse than anything, betrayal. He’d done this to her. He’d hurt her.
He stood as still as a statue as she pulled away from him, maneuvering the car out of the driveway and onto the road. As the last traces of fumes dissipated into the afternoon air, he could feel his body ache with the knowledge that this was all his fault.
Hurt people hurt people, wasn’t that what they said? But he was beyond hurt. He was broken. And now he’d broken the one thing he cared about the most.
* * *
“I feel so stupid,” Harper muttered, her hands curled around her coffee cup, the warm china hot against her palms. “I’d built this thing up into my mind until it was real. I really believed he wanted what I did.”
“What did you want?” Ember asked softly. They were sitting in her cottage, which Harper had driven right to upon leaving James’s house. Caitie and Breck were away, and she couldn’t think of anybody else to talk to. And she didn’t want to be alone.
Not again.
“What everybody else wants,” Harper said, her voice small. “A family.”
Ember’s face crumpled as she cradled Arthur tightly. “Oh sweetie.”
Harper took a deep breath, but it did nothing to calm her nerves. The tears that had spilled as soon as she’d driven away from James had dried on
her cheeks, making her skin feel salty and sticky. Her eyes filled again as she remembered the way he’d hidden her. Like she was some guilty secret he didn’t want Sara’s family to discover.
“I wanted it so bad, I ignored all the signs,” Harper said, lifting her hand to wipe a tear from her cheek. “I really thought I could give this baby everything I never had. Two parents who wanted her. Who loved her. Who’d never make her feel like this.”
“She has two parents who love her,” Ember said, her voice gentle. “She does.”
“But what good is that when she goes to Kindergarten and finds out she’s the only one whose parents don’t live together? I don’t want her to be the kid who has to sit alone while everybody else’s father comes to the classroom for donuts with dad’s day. I don’t want her to cry because she feels so left out. I want her to have everything I didn’t have.” She took a deep breath. “And I’ve failed her.”
“No you haven’t,” Ember said firmly. “You haven’t failed her at all. You’ve done nothing but think of her for the past seven months. I’m a first grade teacher, want to know how many of my kids don’t have parents who are together any more? At least half of them. So don’t start beating yourself up over that.” She leaned forward, moving Arthur until he was resting in the crook of her left arm, taking Harper’s hand in her right. “You of all people should know it’s not where you’ve come from that matters, but where you’re going.”
Harper took a ragged breath. “I just thought I’d worked it out this time. I really believed in the fairytale, you know?”
“The fairytale?”
“The one where you meet your Prince Charming, get knocked up by him, and then somehow you both fall in love.” Harper sighed. “I sound like such an idiot. You don’t need to tell me.”
“You’re not an idiot. And for the record, fairytales suck. You ever read a real one? Not the Disney version, but as they were originally written? In Cinderella, the ugly stepsisters chop off their feet and have their eyes pecked out. The Little Mermaid gets left by the prince and pines for him forever in the ocean.” Ember grimaced. “Seriously, don’t ever aim for the fairytale.”
Harper smiled through her tears. “Why doesn’t that make me feel any better?”
“Because you’re hurt and you’re scared, and you’ve forgotten you’re a strong woman who’s going to become an amazing mother to your baby. Maybe you got so entranced by the fairytale you forgot who you are.”
Harper blinked away a stray tear.
“Seriously,” Ember continued. “Look at you. In the past seven months you’ve lost your job and built an empire. You’ve gotten knocked up and somehow managed to not only track down the father but build a friendship with him. And you’ve moved to this beautiful town where you know everybody has your back. You’re winning at life, even if you don’t know it.”
Harper wanted to believe every word. But the voice in her head was too loud. Telling her she was exactly what her grandmother had told her she’d become. What her mother showed her she was by walking out on her time and time again.
Unwanted. Forgotten. A little girl lost.
Her phone buzzed on the arm of her chair. Harper glanced at it to see James’s name lighting up the screen.
“Do you want to get that?” Ember asked her.