Page 106 of Harrison's Wedding

We sit in silence, and I give in to the tears that I’ve been trying to hold back. She puts her head in her hands and begins to cry even harder. I hate myself more than ever. She deserves happiness, and it’s my fault she doesn’t have it.

She raises her tear-streaked face to look at me, and a fresh wave of sobs comes over her before she asks me, “Where do we go from here?”

“You can stay here. I’ll find somewhere to go.” I give her the answer I’d prepared for this scenario.

“Are you sure, Harrison?” she asks me, spinning her engagement ring around on her finger as she does.

The familiar slicing pain from her using my name hits me, and I wince before telling her, “Yes, angel. Like I said, I’ve been expecting this. I’ve just been waiting for you to tell me. I’ve had a lot of time to think about what we would do when the time came.”

“I don’t think I can survive without you,” she chokes out as she continues to cry, “but I can’t keep living like this, either.”

Heather looks down at the ring she’s been playing with and pauses in her movements. I watch in horror as she begins to slide it off her finger. I can’t stop her, and it feels like time stops altogether as she sobs loudly while she holds it out to me.

She’s closed her eyes and isn’t looking at me, but the tears are streaming down her beautiful face. I can’t bear this, because taking the ring from where it sits on her upturned palm feels so very final.

“Angel, no…” I beg her.

“Please, just take it, Harrison,” she instructs, with her eyes still closed.

Her skin is so soft as I take the ring from her. As soon as she’s relieved of her burden, she drops her head to her hands again and sobs hysterically. I ache to comfort her, and to beg her for her forgiveness. I want to assure her that she is an angel who deserves the world.

I don’t. Instead, I clutch the ring so tightly in my palm that the diamonds on it are hurting me and stand from the sofa, leaving her behind as I walk to the bedroom. I want to fall apart, but I have things to do. It’s done, and she needs her space.

I find the jewelry box for her ring and place it carefully in there. I remember buying it, and being so happy with it, the only piece of jewelry beautiful enough to grace her finger. I remember being so happy when she said yes, so foolishly sure that nothing could ever come between us.

I slash at the tears falling from my eyes and push away my self-pity. I don’t get to feel that; I’ve earned every second of this hell I’m living. I pull out my suitcase and fill it with clothes and toiletries.

I don’t even know where I’m going yet, but wherever it is, Heather won’t be there.

17

The First Day of the Rest of Your Life

I wheel my suitcase out to the main living area and see Heather sitting on the sofa. Every fiber of my being aches to be with her. I reach my hand into my pocket and feel for the ring box that’s there. I miss her already, and I haven’t even left yet.

She’s still crying and has her head turned away from me. I watch her for a while, taking in this vision of her. I hate that this is the way I’ll remember her, as the beautiful woman that I broke and not the vibrant beauty I’ve had the pleasure of knowing for over a decade.

I walk over to the sofa and hover nearby for a few seconds before she turns her face up to look at me. Her eyes are red, and her cheeks are tear-stained. A thousand memories of our life together flood through my mind, and I can scarcely believe it’s ending like this.

“I’m going now.” I know she doesn’t want to hear it, and that she’s asked me not to say it, but I can’t stop myself. “I am sorry, angel. I love you.”

I can feel the tears threatening to hit me again as she looks back at me. We stare at each other, unsaid words passing between us, but the horrible thing I did is still hanging in the air around us. Neither of us wants this, but it’s what has to happen. I need to let her go.

“I know, Harrison. I wish it were different,” she whispers.

“Me, too,” I croak out.

I don’t know what else to say. I could stand here forever just looking at her and delaying the moment that I walk away from the only woman I’ve ever loved. She deserves happiness, and everything that I can never give her now that I fucked everything up.

I turn away from her slowly and begin to walk away. It feels so incredibly wrong and I hate everything about doing it. I can hear Heather’s soft sobs coming from behind me, and it’s bizarre to walk away from her, knowing that she’s upset. Leaving her to cry feels terrible, but it’s not my place to comfort her anymore.

The knowledge that I officially don’t hold that place in her life is horrendous, and I feel utterly bereft. What am I without my angel by my side? She’s been with me since we were teens. Anything we did was together, and facing a life without her is unbearable, but I know that I deserve this. She doesn’t.

Both Michael and Callum look at me as I walk toward them. There is pity written all over their faces, and I know they know what has just happened. I hate their pity. I hate that everyone I know will be giving Heather looks like this. She doesn’t deserve any of this.

“I’m ready to leave, Michael.”

“Yes, sir,” he replies and swiftly stands from his seat.

---