Page 7 of The Space He Left
"I'm not saying that. I just meant... It's a big commitment."
"She's going through cancer, Harps. I think I can handle some inconvenience."
The word stung. Inconvenience. As if my concern was about something trivial, as if I was being selfish for worrying about how this would affect our life, our pregnancy, our preparation for the baby.
"I know," I said quietly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound unsupportive."
Jack's expression softened immediately. "No, I'm sorry. I'm just tired and worried about her. I don't mean to snap at you."
He reached across the table to take my hand, and I felt some of the tension leave my shoulders. This was my Jack, the man who apologized when he was wrong, who recognized when stress made him short-tempered.
"Why don't you go shower and get some rest?" I suggested. "I can work on the Morrison project from home today."
"You sure? I know you wanted to meet with them this week."
"It's fine. I can handle it."
Jack squeezed my hand gratefully. "What did I do to deserve you?"
Everything, I thought. My husband was the most selfless person I knew, going out of his way to help everyone, from the elderly lady whose roof was collapsing because it was so old to the young couple buying their first home who didn't know the house they were buying was full of rotten wood. Nothing was ever too much for Jack. If he saw someone who needed help, he was there offering what he could. It was part of what drew me to him.
But I didn't say that. Instead, I smiled and said, "Just lucky, I guess."
After Jack went upstairs, I sat at the kitchen table with my coffee and tried to shake off the unease that had settled in my chest. Madison was sick. She needed help. Jack was being a good friend, a good person. This was temporary.
While he showered, I started on the Morrison project, spreading my design materials across the kitchen table. It felt good to focus on something creative, something that was mine. I was lucky to have work I could do from home, especially as the pregnancy progressed.
By the time Jack came back downstairs, I was deep in color swatches and layout options. He looked more like himself after his shower, more present, and when he kissed my forehead before leaving for work, it felt completely normal.
"I'll probably need to go back to the hospital tonight," he said, grabbing his keys. "Madison's nervous about the treatment plan, and I promised I'd be there when she talks to the oncologist."
"Of course," I said. "I'll be here."
"I know you will." He smiled, and for a moment, it reached his eyes. "I love you, Harper Henderson."
"I love you, too."
But as I watched him drive away, I noticed that his truck turned left at the end of our street instead of right. Leftled to the highway, to the city, to Madison. Right led to Henderson Construction, to his job, to his responsibilities here in Willowbrook.
I told myself it didn't mean anything. He probably had errands to run, supplies to pick up, and meetings to attend. But the unease in my chest grew a little stronger.
Two hours later, I was at Brew & Bean, picking up my usual herbal tea and a muffin, when I first heard the whispers.
"...left her sitting alone at Rosewood Inn..."
"...on their anniversary, can you believe it?"
"...that woman who came back to town. Madison something..."
I recognized the voices – three women from various community events, all leaning in close with the eager expressions of people sharing gossip. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but their table was right behind me at the counter.
"Well, I always wondered if he was really over her," one of them said. "First love and all that."
"Poor Harper," another added. "Seven months pregnant and her husband's running off to be with his ex-girlfriend."
"Ex-girlfriend?" The third voice sounded scandalized.
"Oh, honey, they dated all through high school. Everyone knew Jack was head over heels for her. We all thought they'd get married. Then she left and never came back. Jack was devastated."
