Page 89 of When We Were More
He reaches up and swipes a thumb across my cheekbone. It makes me shiver.
“Henry, we?—”
“Hey, there you are.” We both turn our heads in the direction of the voice, and Harrison walks up to us. “C’mon, man, you have to present the apprenticeship award.”
Henry doesn’t take his eyes off of me.
“You do it,” he tells Harrison.
“First of all, it’s your job, and everyone expects it. Second, what the fuck did you do, bathe in the whiskey?”
“I’m not doing it.”
“Henry, please just go do it. He’s Sally’s grandson—it will hurt her if you blow it off.” I sound like I’m pleading.
His face softens slightly. “This is more important.”
I stand there for a few seconds. I don’t want to hurt him, but he does need to do the presentation, and he’s drunk, so now’s not the time for deep conversation.
“It’s not. Not tonight it isn’t. Go.”
Hurt flashes across Henry’s face and settles in his eyes. My heart aches knowing I caused it. Harrison nods at me, I suspect in gratitude.
“Come on, Henry. Let’s go.”
Henry lets Harrison lead him away, but his eyes hold mine hostage until he’s out of my line of sight.
I swipe at a stray tear that trickles down my cheek and head home. I probably never should have come in the first place.
When I get back to the farmhouse, I’m bone tired. Over the next few minutes, I let myself into the house, shower, and crawl into bed. I need this day—this entire last week—to be over.
CHAPTER 33
Tillie
I’m restless in bed, tossing and turning, trying to force myself to fall asleep. I’m thoroughly exhausted, yet sleep evades me. I close my eyes and breathe in and out slowly, counting my breaths to calm my body as much as possible. The problem is that my mind keeps drifting.I’m beyond frustrated. I want to slip into sleep and not be aware of anything. I want to forget this evening because it’s upsetting me. I need to disappear into oblivion for a few hours.
The truth is, I’ve screwed up.I let myself get into this situation with Henry, lying to both of us that being friends with him would be enough. I want to be that woman. I’d love to be able to partake in a physical relationship without letting it grow into something deeper. But I guess I’m not capable of that.
The ringing of my security camera system trills through the quiet air, startling me. It’s probably another raccoon on my porch or a coyote or fox running across the backyard. Normally, I wouldn’t check unless it happens again, but I’m wide awake and my efforts to fall asleep are shit, so I pick up my phone and peek.
My heart pounds in my chest when I see Henry, sitting on my cedar swing, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his head held in his hands. He’s staring down at the floor of the porch.
It’s January and he has his suit coat off and his sleeves rolled up, exposing his forearms. He’s going to freeze.
Still, I don’t get out of bed yet. Like a creeper, I watch him. He scrubs his hand through his messy hair. A twinge of sadness strikes me because I’m reminded that I love it when his hair is messy like that.
He stands and paces across my porch. He says something to himself, then climbs down my porch steps and walks toward his truck. My stomach falls. He’s leaving.
I’m about to turn the live feed from the camera off when I see him stop. He talks a little more to himself before he turns around and climbs back up the steps. He walks to the door and raises his fist to knock, then stops himself. I watch as he rests his forehead against the heavy wood, his flattened palms on either side of his head.
He pushes himself off the door and sits down, with no apparent regard for his tuxedo pants, on my dirty porch steps. He leans his upper body against the railing and stares out between two balusters into the darkness of the night.
There’s no movement for long enough that I worry he’s fallen asleep. Shit, the man’s going to freeze to death. I begrudgingly climb out of my toasty bed and grab my robe from the bathroom. I walk downstairs, and Henry doesn’t stir when I open the main door. But when the screen door makes that faint, squealing sound, he glances over at me. Neither of us says anything while we stare at each other. Finally, I step back and wave for him to come into the house.
“Come on, you’ll freeze to death out there.”
Henry lifts his gaze to meet my eyes, and that’s when I see how distraught he appears. More than I could tell from his body language earlier. He’s got circles around his eyes, and the light that is usually shining in them is absent.
