Page 79 of To Bring You Back
Lord, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.
It wasn’t a permanent solution, but with her foot, she shoved the bag under the bed and got ready to sleep.
She needed a step back. Gannon had taken a misstep here, but she shouldn’t assume that misstep included intimacy with Harper. He deserved the chance to defend himself. But first, she needed rest, or she’d never think straight about any of this.
God, I’m going to need Your peace if I’m ever going to sleep.
21
Heavy fatigue discouraged Adeline from opening her eyes. It was still dark, and nothing the day could hold would be as wonderful as the sensation of this soft bed, this quiet room. But uneasiness slithered into her limbs. The bed was too comfortable, the room too silent. She moved her arm, and a pillow plopped to the ground, though one remained under her head.
Where had the second pillow come from? Her eyes opened to darkness, not her bedside clock. When she twisted, sheets softer and smoother than her own slid against her skin.
The fire and the search for Bruce and the trip to Havenridge hit. Harper and the lingerie. She’d lain in bed, praying for peace. God must’ve answered, or she wouldn’t have slept.
Lord, could you top me off again?
The anger from last night had turned to an ache. As she’d fallen asleep in her own bed before the fire, she would’ve sworn she loved Gannon and he loved her, that the vulnerability of opening up to him had paid off with healing. But what was going on with Harper?
She groped for the bedside table where she’d left her phone. Once she found it, pressing the button didn’t illuminate the screen. The device must’ve died before she’d plugged it in. Powering up would take it a minute.
Her gaze found the blue numbers of a clock. 11:38? That didn’t make sense. She couldn’t have slept all day and into the night. She sat up and felt for the switch on one of the bedside lamps.
Her bag, a large canvas tote she’d gotten free on Black Friday, slumped in a corner like a runaway who’d snuck into a luxury hotel.
A ping rose from the phone. Tegan had texted.
I’m at class. Let me know if you need anything.
After untangling herself from the sheets, Adeline crossed the room and slid her fingers between the thick layers of curtains. Light answered, washing through the crack. She’d slept until almost noon, not midnight.
Sunlight bathed the lake all the way to the horizon. Tiny white flashes—gulls—rose and fell along the tree-heavy shore of Liberty Island. Beneath the window, the pristine lawn and flagstone patio rested empty, lending no hints about who she might run into first if she ventured from the room.
She didn’t belong here. Didn’t want to face any of them. Not Harper with her lingerie, not Gannon with his explanations. Not even John, since he always saw more than he commented on. He would know in one look that she’d fallen completely for Gannon, and Harper’s presence meant it wasn’t as mutual as she’d thought.
Or maybe Harper’s presence meant something else.
Lord, bring the truth to light and show me what to do with it.
Going downstairs and interacting with people was the only way to find out what was going on, but she didn’t want any of these people witnessing her pain if the worst was true.
It probably wasn’t.
But just in case, she’d do everything she could to protect herself. She would clean up, apply makeup, style her hair, and wear the dress she’d packed—originally to impress Gannon but now to act as armor.
Gannon wentto the kitchen for lunch and found Harper at the stove, a wok hissing over a burner.
She’d muted the bruise with makeup, but she couldn’t hide the swollen eyelid or the cut. “Orange chicken. You want some?”
She could cook, and her rendition of the dish didn’t sit like a brick in his gut the way the takeout version did, but he shook his head. Eating her food would only encourage her to stay longer.
He opened the fridge and pulled out ingredients for a sandwich.
“Suit yourself. Do you think Sleeping Beauty will want some, or is she going to sleep all day?”
“Save her some. She gets to sleep as long as she wants.” When he’d given up on rest at seven, he’d gone and stood outside her door. All had been silent, so he’d told Tim to let him know if she came down.
Meanwhile, he’d retrieved his notebook of songs about Adeline from the drawer in the kitchen and closed himself in the studio.
