The Wife Win

Harper knows I train and work out there. In fact, that’s the place we originally met. So why wouldn’t she have ever mentioned it before? She had ample opportunity. The day we met. The day I saw her working out at the gym. It would’ve been easy for her to explain.

Instead, she kept it hidden from me. Why? The only possible answer is that she used me. She used it all as a ruse to get to me. It was never a coincidence or accident that she ran into me.

It was planned and she obviously used her friendship with Jade in some way to know where I’d be and when to score the exclusive interview.

Harper used me for her own personal gain.

I wrestled with that knowledge all fucking week long. Even sat down with Dr. Rush to go through my issues of distrust over Harper.

Dr. Rush convinced me if I wanted resolution as a way to end this relationship, or the opposite, to forge a future with Harper, I must deal with the feelings of betrayal now. Don’t let them fester or ignore them. Don’t close the door or shut down until I know her side of the story.

Scanning through the texts, most from my coaching staff, and one from Marvin Spurlock, I land on the reply from Harper from the text I sent her earlier in the day.

Harper: Hi, Big Man. I’m glad you’re back in town. Sounds like you had a busy week. I have some work to do this weekend and I’m helping Jason Metz on Sunday’s broadcast at the ballpark, but I’m available tomorrow night.

Harper: And I really need to talk to you too.

Something like hope fills my chest. This could be my chance to come clean and start fresh. A clean slate where I can unload the burdens of my past and then give Harper all of me. If she wants that.

I hope she wants that.

* * *

In the end,Harper and I decided the best option for a private talk would be at my place. Free from loud noises and other distractions.

The buzz of my driveway gate alerts me of her presence. I push the button and the security camera shows her old piece of shit car driving through the open gates to my house. I snicker at her stubbornness over that car. She said she’s holding on to it until it dies. No sense getting something new if you don’t need it.

A good lesson to be learned.

Which is why I cringe now when I look around this ridiculously big home I purchased on Lake Washington. The irony is that Harper wouldn’t care if I was still living in the fifth wheel. She doesn’t have a pretentious bone in her body.

I do a quick check of my attire, glancing down my chest to my feet. A crisp blue button-down shirt, cuffs rolled up to my elbows, carefully tucked into my jeans. No shoes or socks.

It’s a beautiful evening and warm enough this time of year to sit outside where I’ve set up the catered dinner on the covered patio, the lights above twinkling to add the perfect level of ambiance.

I swing the door open as she reaches the bottom step, catching her by surprise.

“Hi,” she says, climbing the steps until she’s inches from me. She smells of warm summer nights and apples dipped in honey. Good enough to eat.

“Hey.”

Forgoing any further formalities, I wrap my arms around her back and embrace her. The stiffness in her body disintegrates immediately, her body relaxing into my hug.

“I missed you,” I whisper into her hair. She sighs.

Giving her a quick kiss on her cheek, I step to the right and gesture inside. “Come on in. I have dinner ready out on the patio, but we can have a drink first if you want.”

She begins to enter, but then stops abruptly and I stumble, nearly plowing into her back. Her head turns from right to left as she takes in the expansive foyer and entryway.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever mentioned this before, but your home is incredible. It takes my breath away every time I enter.”

I move around her and step in front to face her, cupping her face in my hands. “I know the feeling. You take my breath away.”

I fuse my lips over hers, drinking her in like a parched man in a desert, unable to get my fill. I was such a fool to let my emotions get the best of me. I’ve missed kissing her. Holding her. I’ve missed everything about her.

When I finally pull back, we’re both panting for air. Harper’s hand lands on my chest, eyes averted, but I can still see a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth.

“I think we should probably have our talk first before we do any more of that,” she says breathlessly. “Otherwise, I might end up using my mouth for something else.”