Page 117 of The Foul Out

I swallowed. Guess I wasn’t as clever as I thought.

“However, telling us might have helped.”

My heart clenched. “There is an annoying echo in my life,” I muttered, bringing a hand to my hair. Before I could rake my fingers through it, though, I pulled back. I’d adjusted to the short cut, and so had fans. But every time I touched it, I was reminded of what I’d lost.

“I didn’t call to lecture,” my mom went on. “Actually, the opposite. I thought I’d share a little with you. Some things you may not know.” She sighed. “When Bill found out that I knew about Harper and hadn’t told him, he was upset. Things weren’t great between us for a while after that.”

“You knew about Harper.” I scowled, not that my mom could see me. I thought she’d found out at the reading of the will, just like my stepfather had.

She sighed. “I found out about Harper when you and JJ were nine or ten. Harper’s mother had asked for money. Susan and James had fought about it. And she came to my door, crying. But it wasn’t my secret to tell. Even to Bill. However, when everything blew up at the meeting last March, I assured Bill thatHarper Wallace was, in fact, James’s daughter and that James had been well aware of her existence.”

That took a second to process. “Oh.”

“Bill thought Harper had to be making the story up, because he couldn’t imagine his brother keeping something like that from him. He was crushed that your uncle never confided in him. The idea that I didn’t either was a betrayal, and it took a bit for us to get past.”

“But you did?” I asked, filled with a little flicker of hope for the first time in days.

“The thing about commitment is that you’re choosing to get past it. Whatever theitis. Relationships are full of good times and bad.” She took a deep breath. “Trust me, there are tons of bad ones. Fights, misunderstandings, hurt feelings. Times when it seems like she’s choosing other priorities over you. It’s not all roses, son. But,” she said, her tone going softer, “when you choose to stay, choose to work through the bad moments, that’s when it lasts. Bill has shown me that over the years.”

I glanced down at the tattoo on my left arm. Balance. The good and the bad. That was what she was talking about. Along with the amazing part of loving someone came the hard parts too. The hurt. The arguments. But the couples that made it did so because they chose balance. They chose to enjoy the good times and work through the bad. Because, in the end, they did it all together. I could keep showing Harper that I’d choose her. That wasn’t a problem. But I didn’t know how to make her want to choose me.

I’d readthat damn message seventeen times today. Every time, I felt like a complete asshole. No, I didn’t expect him to be perfect, but I expected him to be honest. And how did that make me wrong?

I didn’t believe I was wrong. Yet I still felt like an ass. I’d read every torturous message he’d sent for the last ten days. And I missed him. The gut-wrenching hurt that had hit me when I realized he’d been hiding something so big from me didn’tinvalidate the love I had for him. A heaviness had settled over me since he left. One I’d shed months ago and had forgotten about. It was the weight of carrying it all. The stress of every tomorrow. But he’d lied. And now I’d always wonder if he’d do it again.

An alarm sounded, startling me out of my stupor. Dammit. A resident’s panic button was going off.

“Oh shit.” I popped to my feet and scanned the notification. Eleanor Sparrow, room 567. She wasn’t one to hit her button for the TV or because she needed more ice water. No, she was the opposite. She hardly wore the damn thing.

I flew out of my office.

Carolyn glanced up from her screen as I darted past her. “It’s?—”

“I know.” I ran straight to the stairs, bypassing the elevator, and took them two at a time, all the while praying she was okay. My heart pounded as I hit floor five and burst into the hall. The elevator doors opened as I passed them, and a young male nurse on duty today fell into step behind me.

“I’ve got the key,” I announced as I approached Eleanor’s quarters. I flashed the card, and once the door beeped, I flung it open.

“Eleanor,” I called, running inside. I’d only made it a couple of steps in before the sight registered. I halted and slapped a hand over my face. “Oh my God!”

Old man ass. Old man ass. The image was burned into my brain so that even though my eyes were pinched shut and my hand was covering them, all I could see was the hairy white ass.

“Henry, did you hit my button?” Eleanor huffed.

“I told you to take the damn thing off, sweet stuff.”

I cringed.

“Are you standing with your eyes closed too?” the nurse behind me asked.

Of course I was. I spun, and when I was facing him, I forced my eyes open. Now I was staring at the twenty-five-year-old whose face was scrunched up in horror.

“Just spin around,” I muttered. But even as I studied the door, I still couldn’t shake the image of Eleanor’s hands pinned over her head while Henry’s pale body slammed her into the sofa.

“You should have knocked,” she declared.

“You hit your button!” I cried. “We were under the impression that it was an emergency.”

She sighed. “This is why I keep telling you, Harper, that at times, it’s okay to take it off and live a little. If I’m always afraid of the what-ifs, I’ll miss all the good things. Or in this case, the good stuff gets interrupted by nosy young people.”

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