Page 287 of Untouchable

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Harp feelslike he's preparing for a job interview as he cleans up the house before Parker's arrival.

Taking down the Christmas decorations had felt more than a little bittersweet as he did it, but he wants them to start on equal footing here, today, just like they had before things had gotten so complicated. He doesn't want Parker to be thinking of Christmas gifts, or sex, or car payments, or anything that Harp could potentially hold over him in their power dynamic. He needs Parker to make an objective choice—to see Harp and hear what he has to say and make a decision.

He needs this rigidity—a script, an outline, a set of steps to try and win Parker back, to prove that he's worth the work because he's willing to work hard in turn. But if Harp is going to make this leap, is going to say the words I love you for the first time that he's really meant it, he needs to be in control.

And so he's set it out in his mind. He's been rehearsing what he wants to say all day, how he wants to do it—and if he thinks about those steps instead of rejection, instead of fear.

When Parker arrives, it's almost impossible to stick to the plan. He opens the door and every bit of the outline seems to vaporize and escape.

I love you, I love you, I love you, he thinks desperately.

"Hey Parker," he says, using his voice for the first time since Gil left the day before.

* * *

Parker has been steelinghimself for this moment all morning, but that doesn’t make it any easier. Seeing Harp there in the doorway makes Parker’s heart swoop and his hopes fall all at once.

He wishes suddenly he’d insisted they talk sooner, because being here is too full of memories—kisses and Christmas lights and precious, awkward moments in the early days of their friendship. He wishes they were meeting somewhere neutral, like a coffee shop, so Parker could have the strength to do what he needed to do. Of course, he realizes, a coffee shop wouldn’t be neutral for Harp.

Well, none of that matters now, he thinks. He tries to smile at Harp, but he knows it’s barely more than a grimace.

“Hey,” Parker says

"I know we need to talk. And I want to talk, okay? I have a lot of things I need to say to you," Harp says, opening the door and giving Parker room to come inside. He looks at Harp warily.

"Okay..." Parker begins.

"But I think we should do the session first. Just... go back to when we were friends. Or pre-friends. Can we do that?"

“Seriously?” Parker says, setting his table down with a loud thud. “Harp, that’s—” He can’t even find the words to finish his sentence.

So this is it,he thinks. Bile burns at the back of his throat.

“Look, I’d… really rather not go through a whole session just… pretending everything is okay. And I definitely don’t just want to pretend we’re just friends.” He frowns deeply.

"I get that," Harp says. "But I don't think you're going to want to do the session after you hear what I have to say. I'll leave it up to you, okay? We'll just get the session out of the way and it'll be done, and we can stop rescheduling things and missing things and undoing all the work you already did to help me. What do you say?"

Parker chews on the inside of his cheek, looking down at the now familiar whorls of the wood floor beneath his feet. This is the end, he realizes. Something between them has broken that cannot—or will not—be fixed.

Professionalism. The word floats through his mind like a single cloud on an otherwise clear day. It’s the word that got him through the first few strange, tense sessions with Harp.

So he owes it, he thinks, to Harp—to his client, to do his job well. It’s been weeks since they’ve had a proper session, which is hardly fair to Harp. After this, he tells himself, he’ll find another therapist to transfer Harp to—Morgan, maybe, or even Angie might do it.

It’s just an hour. Fifty minutes, really. Just ten minutes, five times. You can make it.

“Okay,” Parker says. He puts on his most professional customer service. “I’ll go upstairs and set up.”

* * *

Harp waitsat the bottom of the stairs for a moment, going over the script in his head.

It will be good to have this time to sort out what he wants to say, to get over that impulse to hug Parker and kiss him and tell him that everything's going to be fine, that he just needs to trust Harp.

That won't do. He's going to present this logically. He's going to show Parker the work he's done—or the work he plans to do to be the best he can.

Parker has gotten set up with record speed and he steps out of the room the minute Harp steps inside.

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