Page 92 of Catch You

“He’ll be okay. Just let him cool off, then he’ll listen.”

“You think?” I ask through tear-filled eyes.

She chews on her bottom lip for a second. “Sure.” She sounds about as uncertain as I feel, and it doesn’t ease the dread filling me.

“I was just trying to do something nice. To help him out. I knew I should have told him, but—” My voice cracks, and I stop.

“I know. And when he calms down, he’ll see that.” I can see the question in her eyes, but we’re not close enough for her to feel like she’s able to pry.

“His arrears and six months’ rent.”

“Jesus, Harlow. Are you some kind of secret millionaire or something?”

I shrug, my eyes drifting to Mags because she knows the truth. But she doesn’t say a word. “Or something. I’ve gotinheritance,” is all I give as a reason. It’s not a lie. It’s just the kind of inheritance that keeps on giving.

Reaching out a shaky hand, I take a sip of the cool water and try to get myself under control. Everything was going too well. Everything was too perfect. This was always going to happen. I was just too blissfully unaware as I enjoyed the perks of finally having a man who understood me.

“Just give him some time. If I’ve learned anything from Fletch, it’s that men are almost as complicated as women; they just don’t like to show it. Let him cool down and then, when he least expects it, prove to him just how much he needs you. Rock his world the way it needs rocking and prove your place beside him.”

“Wise words, right there,” Mags agrees with a soft smile playing on her lips.

I nod at her, in awe that she manages to look at her man every day and not be a total fumbling idiot like I am every time I’m so much as in the same room as him.

“I don’t know much about him, but Corey seems like a good man. Milo sure has good things to say, but he’s also alluded to a dark past. Just be gentle with him. He’ll figure things out.”

“I hope you’re right,” I mutter.

“I know you’ve got Brooke, but if you need anything, even just a chat, I’m here.” I offer her a weak smile so she knows I hear. “And,” she says, pulling my clipboard closer, “this is really incredible. It’s going to be a huge success, Harlow. Focus on this while he?—”

“I’m so sorry.” Sandra comes rushing back in, looking panicked. “Harlow, there’s a call on line one for you. It’s urgent.”

I stare at her and my body turns cold. I recognize that grief-stricken look on her face. I know it too well.

I race to the phone, but I already know the words I’m about to hear. My hand trembles as I lift it to my ear.

Even as I wait for a voice, my body begins to shut down. This kind of stuff is easier to deal with when you’re numb.

“Hello.” My voice is hollow when it comes out.

“Is that Harlow Winters?”

“Speaking.”

“I’ve got you down as Mrs. Winslow’s emergency contact. She’s currently being admitted to?—”

I don’t even wait for her to say the hospital name; I know where she is. “I’m coming. Tell her I’m coming right now.”

I slam the phone down and race from the room.

“Harlow, wait,” Reese calls.

“It’s my aunt. She’s in hospital.”

“Shit. Let me drive you. You can’t?—”

“Whatever, but I’m going right now.”

“Okay, I’m coming.”

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