Page 52 of His Gift
forty
Harper
"Sooooo… the broody man with the shoulders and the pecs and those legs that fill his jeans just so…" Cecily singsongs as soon as Conrad is gone.
"Complicated."Probably already regretting not turning the car around.Not that he doesn't have everyreason to.
"Okay, okay. I'll mind my business. It's nice, though, that he followed you here. Was he tired of New York too?" She keeps rearranging the table that's perfect as it is.
"What happened to minding your business?" I give her a weak smile, and we both manage a laugh that doesn't quite reach my eyes. She doesn't know the half of why I'm here, whyhe'shere, and I'm grateful Jasper agreed to keep the messy truth from his wife. "He didn't really live in New York. He had an apartment there, but he lived…"Yeah, where did he live, really? In my head, mostly."In the mountains. Anyway, no, he's here… for me." The words feel heavy with guilt and regret.
"But it's complicated." Her brow furrows with a gentle concern I don't deserve.
"Yes."
"Okay. Well, at least you have solved your problem with the hip. Jasper said you're almost fully recovered."
"Yes, and I'm so grateful. Besides leaving this stupid cane behind, which should happen soon, being pain-free is a blessing. It was Conrad who found the surgeon."And look how I repaid him.
"Hmmm. That potato salad looks delicious." She smirks, trying to lighten the mood, and I manage a genuine chuckle this time.
"Nice change of topic. Actually, Conrad made it." While I was hiding behind my work, pushing him away with every closed door and clipped word.
"Listen… I can mind my business, but it doesn't look so complicated to me. He's even got Adam talking instead of sulking. I'd say… keep him?" If only it were that simple.
"I'm the complicated one."
"How so?" We've become friends pretty quickly since I started working for her husband, but I haven't told her much about the tangled mess that is my life. I want to, now. Desperately. I need someone to tell me how to stop the endless loop of self-doubt, how to unsay the bitter words I flung at Conrad. How do I build a normal relationship when I'm so fucked up? But there are too many jagged edges I can't reveal.
"What are you two so secretive about? Men, right? I want in, but later. Now I have just one question: why there's no sangria on this table?" Jodie, Jasper's sister, stands in front of us with her hands on her hips, and I welcome the interruption.
"Because, sis, it's still in the fridge. Go get it." Cecily accompanies her words with a commanding hand gesture and sticking out her tongue. If I didn't know better, I'd take for granted that they were sisters.
"On my way."
"I can help with the glasses!" I need a way out of Cecily's questions.
"Come with me, then. We have precious cargo to retrieve. Love my kids, but they've given me a headache. I need alcohol in my system."
We enter the house, the sounds of laughter and children fading slightly. Jodie picks the carafe from the fridge and cradles it to her chest, making me smile, and I pick up a precarious pile of glasses.
It should be easy—a simple task. But ever since I started relying less on the cane, my balance feels… off. And it's exactly what happens now. My foot catches on nothing and the glasses erupt in a loud, shattering bang as I land heavily on my ass, a clumsy mess. Jodie looks at me for a split second, a flicker of surprise on her face, before a peal of laughter escapes her. I'm about to join in, when I'm suddenly engulfed in Conrad's tight embrace.
"What happened? Are you okay?" His voice is rough with a fear that snakes through me.
I'd like to reassure him, to tell him it was just me being me, but it's hard to speak with my face pressed against the solid wall of his chest, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ear.
"She's fine. She fell and dropped the glasses," Jodie says, still chuckling, and Conrad loosens his grip enough to look down at me. I nod.
"I thought… It sounded like… Are you sure you didn't hurt yourself?" His gaze lingers on my face, every muscle in his body tense.
"No, just embarrassed myself." I squeeze his arm, trying to convey reassurance, and look around. Every eye is fixed on us, a silent, curious audience. Even the kids have stopped their games to witness the drama. But only Jasper and I understand the true depth of Conrad's initial fear—he thought they shot me. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to scare you."
"The man is right to be worried. You just had surgery, Harper. Here, sit down on the lounger." With a few words Jasper has defused the situation, and Conrad takes the hint, sitting with me on his lap and conjuring a smile that looks genuine.
"Guess I could've been a little less over-dramatic. Sorry." It's a tiny detail: the change in the story's narrative.Heexaggerated, notIwas careless, or clumsy, or whatever. I wait impatiently until everyone's back to enjoying themselves, then I turn to him.
"It was self-doubt. You said I was beautiful and my messy brain just spiraled toward how many reasons you have to change your mind and leave. Even though I have no idea if we can make this work, I want you here with me. And I don't believe you should stay, because what reason do you have? Yeah, you're possessive, obsessive and a tyrant, but you're so fucking sweet with me, and sexy, and giving, and… and…" I bite my lip to stem the tears. If I start now, I don't know if I can stop. But I have to get it all out now that I've finally found the courage to talk. "And I keep going back and forth, and I don't know what to do. I want to believe in us, and then I can't. Go ahead, say it: I'm batshit crazy."
