Page 40 of Keeping You
Nikki:
I was just at the café.
Harper came in sobbing.
Something about Kirk.
She asked about you.
My stomach twists so hard it nearly knocks the air from my lungs. For a second, I sit there, staring at the words as the glow from my phone feels like it’s burning a hole through my palm.
It’s been three days since Luke came for dinner. Other than for work, we’ve been inseparable, spending any spare moment we could catching up for the lost years. When we had to be apart, it was stolen lunches, teasing texts, and scorching looks anytime we crossed paths in public. Frankly, I'm surprised the gossip mill isn't running rampant with speculation about our wedding plans.
And now this. It’s time to face up to the fact that I screwed up.
I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and type a quick response with stiff fingers.
Me:
Where is she now?
The reply comes fast.
Bakery. Alone.
Anna had to run an errand. I had to go to work.
A glance at the clock confirms it’s 7:45 a.m. The library doesn’t open until nine. I’ve got time. I only hope she’ll forgive me for treating her so horribly.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m in jeans and my favorite sweater, hair twisted into a messy bun that feels more frazzled than cute. My pulse thuds in my ears as I push open the door to Sweet as Sin. The bell overhead jingles cheerfully, a cruel contrast to the heavy tension that meets me like a wall.
Through the front window, I’d seen Harper standing at the kitchen counter, shoulders hunched, kneading dough like it was responsible for every bad thing in her life. Up close, it’s worse. There’s a fragility to her posture that causes me pain.
I did this.
“We’re not open yet,” she calls without looking up, her voice raw from crying.
“It’s me.” The door quietly clicks shut behind me, and I flip the lock and ensure the 'Closed' sign is in place. No busy bodies are allowed today.
Her flour-dusted hands still mid-motion, fingers buried in the soft dough. Slowly, as though afraid, she raises her head, eyes red and puffy, nose not much better, cheeks streaked with tears.
Damn.
“Callie?” Her voice cracks, small and uncertain, like she doesn’t trust that I’m really here.
“Nikki texted me.” I take a few steps toward her, and the familiar scent of cinnamon and sugar wraps around me like a memory, a friend I’ve missed too much, like my best friend, who I let down. My cheeks burn with shame. “She said you were upset.”
Harper wipes her hands on her apron, leaving streaks of flour across the fabric. “I didn't think you'd come.”
“Why wouldn't I?” The question hangs between us, loaded with all the hurt and misunderstandings of the past months.
She gives a humorless laugh. “Maybe because I've been the worst friend in the history of friends?”
“You? Haper, it’s my fault. I’m so sorry.” I move closer, leaning against the counter, afraid she’ll reject me if I get any closer, when all I want to do is hug my friend. “What happened? Did Kirk do something?”
Her face crumples at the mention of his name, fresh tears spilling. “He's cheating on me,” she whispers, the words broken and raw. “Just like he did to you.”
Something cold settles in my stomach. Despite everything, despite the hurt Kirk caused me, I never wanted Harper to experience that pain. “How do you know?”
