Callum & Harper (Sleepless 1)

“There you are!” Sam said, poking her head through the window.

Obviously noticing the intimacy between us, Sam wedged through the window anyway and shook the dust of the brick from her hands.

“Whatcha’ doing?” She asked, awkwardly walking to the bench Harper had just sat at.

I never let Harper escape my arms. “Oh, just flirting with my wife,” I answered, never taking my eyes from my Harper. She bit her bottom lip and smiled.

I slowly released Harper and she stood straighter, breathing hard through her nose, her chest rising with each intake. I placed my hand on her chest, feeling her heartbeat, elated I was making it race at light speed.

Sam cleared her throat, reminding us she was there, breaking our trance. I grabbed Harper’s hand and led her to the bench opposite the one Sam was sitting in. Before Harper could sit, though, I yanked her into my lap, making her laugh. I couldn’t stop myself and gently nipped at the top of her shoulder. She yelped in response, making us both laugh.

“I see you’re busy,” Sam said, racing to the window and crawling in. “I’ll come back later, then.” Neither of us acknowledged her, too engrossed in the other.

Harper wrapped her hands around my face and kissed me softly but the kiss turned deadly, heated, desperate. I knew I was losing track of why I’d come out there in the first place and I didn’t want anything to happen until I’d told her what I needed to tell her. I started to peel her unbelievably amazing body off of mine but she unexpectedly straddled my lap and in an instant, I forgot what I was so worried about talking to her about. No, the truth, Callum, I thought as her mouth melted into mine. Her moans spurred me on and I gripped her waist with tight fingers, pressing her hips into mine as I kissed her like I’d never kissed anyone.

When I married Harper, I loved her. Tremendously. But after two years of living with her, knowing her the way I did, I was desperately in love with her and tasting her brought forth every memory that made me fall, like flashing cards of vibrant feelings and overwhelming images. Our wedding day, the way her hair whipped in the wind that night, framing her face, another still I referenced often in class when I should have been paying attention to the lecture. The first day of classes, I walked her to each one. I told her it was because I didn’t want her to feel overwhelmed but I truly did it so I’d have an excuse to hold her hand. I remembered looking down into her face, her eyes bright with new adventure and a little piece of my heart fell into her hands. My heart tumbled in pieces at her feet as she chipped away at it with her wondrous ways, and it didn’t form a whole again until half a year had passed and the end product was a living, beating organ in the palm of her hands.

The first year of our marriage, on New Year’s Eve, Harper and I, with the rest of our group of friends, dressed warmly and trekked it all the way to Times Square. We all danced and drank hot cocoa and as the ball dropped, she and I gripped each other’s arms and counted down, laughing louder and louder with each number. I remembered her pink cheeks, her ears covered by her wool hat. On one, she reached up and ran her cool gloved hands down my cheeks. I regret we only kissed cheeks. I had lots of regret those past two years. In retrospect, I could see that my youth was what prevented me from making moves, solidifying a relationship, so, instead, I fell deeper and deeper in love with Harper, making me more frightened of losing her. No more. It was a risk I was willing to take because being in love with your best friend can only carry you so far.

“Ha-Harper,” I gulped, my mouth begging my brain to keep it locked with hers.

“Hmm?” She asked, her eyes still closed, her mouth resting against mine.

“I need to tell you something,” I said.

“Tell me,” she whispered but we continued to kiss for a few minutes more.

When I finally emerged, my lips were raw and Harper’s chin was red from my stubble.

I sighed, realizing I let it go too far. Now, I knew she’d think I was making this profession because I wanted sex but that wasn’t the case. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” I said more to myself than to her.

“I’m sorry?” She asked, practically jumping off my lap. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry Callum.” Tears began to spill but abruptly stopped. “You know what?” She yelled. “Screw you! You kissed me back! I felt it!”

“Harper! No! That’s not what I meant!”

“No! Don’t you worry your pretty little head! You don’t owe me any sort of explanation!” The sarcasm was dripping off of her but she sobered quickly, hanging her head. “I shouldn’t have kissed you when you’ve been drinking and with the fire and all things, we’re emotional.” I started to interrupt her, to tell her I hadn’t been drinking, but she stopped me with a finger in the air. “Don’t worry, Callum. We’ll go back to how things were.” Her thoughts turned inward but she spoke them aloud. “We’ll pretend to be married again. Yeah, we’ll go back to pretending because that’s how it’s supposed to be. No one has to find out. I don’t know what I was thinking kissing him. I’m such an idiot.”

Harper walked toward the window and I sprinted toward her, grabbing her arm.

“Let go, Callum. I’m going to go lay down. I don’t feel so hot.”

“Wait,” I said, “Let me explain.”

She placed her hand over my mouth and shook her head, her eyes were wet.

“Don’t say anything we’ll regret. Please, Callum? I can’t handle truths tonight.”

What? She knew what I was going to say. There was no other way she could interpret it and yet she didn’t want to hear it. I initiated the kiss, she had to know what I was planning and she wanted me to keep it to myself.

Humiliation washed over me. A hundred emotions flew through me. I was angry at her for leading me on, for kissing me when she didn’t feel the same. My chest ached at the loss. The most awful pain, a heart attack at twenty.

She slid through the window and I slid down the brick wall, clutching at my heart with the palm of my hand, pressing hard in attempt to alleviate the pain. Except, it wasn’t a heart attack in the traditional sense, was it? The attack would probably shorten years from my life, yes, but it wasn’t from high cholesterol or a genetic disorder. No, this was an acute burn that resonated from the center of my heart and if it were words it would read ‘you wanted the truth and now that you have it, you want to give it back’. With each pump, my body wanted to shut down from the agony it caused. It was a rhythmic, pulsing wound. Each beat, a question.

Harper

When I fell through the window, I immediately ran, feeling sick to my stomach and headed toward the kitchen. Thankfully, no one was in there. I turned on the water to drown out the sound and vomited into the sink. I rinsed the sink and my mouth, turned off the water and sank to the floor as one of the biggest fools this side of the Mississippi. He hadn’t meant any of it and I’d made a massive ass out of myself. I wanted him to want me so badly I didn’t bother to ask.

My heart felt like it had been ripped from my chest. I couldn’t stay in that apartment with him by ourselves. I stood, grabbed my bag from my dining chair as I swiftly ran to the door, nobody taking notice of me. I entered the hall and quietly shut the door behind me. I noticed that SO was in the hall on his cell.