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  “Luke, that’s great! I’m so proud of you. Do you feel ready to work again?”

  “I really do. When I took my sabbatical, my life was completely out of sorts. My private life was getting out of hand, and I was struggling with wanting an unethical relationship with you. Both of those things started to affect my work, and I knew I needed help. Sarah walking in on us when she did and you confronting me about what you saw in my window gave me the wake-up call I needed. Soon after I left you in the cemetery, I began looking for someone to help me.

  “Seeing Caren has taught me a lot about myself and how I interact with others. It’s helped me seek out positive relationships and learn how to foster them in a healthy way. I’m still working on that, but it’s definitely getting better. I feel more in control of my life. I’m learning not to blame my past for everything and not to make assumptions based on it.”

  Positive relationships? Relationships. What kind of relationships? My mind is stuck on that word, but I try to plaster a smile on my face to hide it. Is he seeing someone?

  “That’s amazing,” I finally muster. “I’m very happy for you.” My smile fades a little, but I try to recover by taking a sip of my soup.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks with a frown.

  “Nothing. I’m happy for you. You’re doing so well and going back to work. It’s great.” I give him another smile, but I can feel that it’s not very convincing. I want to ask him about the relationships, but I check myself. That’s not my place. He owes me no explanation.

  “I can tell there’s something else you’re not saying.” His voice is concerned and soft.

  “Well, you’re going back to work and Sadie is there again. Does that mean we can’t see each other anymore?” It’s not all my concern, but it’s part of it, and it’s something I really need to know.

  The look of relief on his face can’t be missed, and I start to feel hopeful, especially when he grabs my hand. “Sadie won’t be my patient. You and I don’t have to stop seeing each other, because we’re not doing anything unethical.”

  That gives me a little relief, at least we can still be friends. I squeeze Luke’s hand and grin at him just as I hear my name being called from behind me.

  Shit.

  I turn around and try to hide the mixture of emotions I’m feeling in this moment, but I already know I suck at that. What’s he doing here? How did he know to come here?

  “Anton,” I say, forcing a smile and standing up from my chair.

  He walks over to the table and immediately pulls me to him, kissing my cheek. I feel his intake of breath against my skin, and it makes me tense.

  The questions must be all over my face because he starts explaining himself without me having to say a word.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I stopped by. I’ve been so busy this week that I completely forgot this is your night off. When I went by the library and you weren’t there, the blonde at the desk told me I could find you here.”

  Mia. I inwardly roll my eyes and choke down a groan. Can she not mind her own damn business?

  “This place is small,” he says, looking around the restaurant.

  Luke clears his throat, and I feel the room get even smaller.

  “Anton,” I say, stepping back. “This is Luke.” Luke stands and offers his hand. “Luke, this is Anton.” They shake hands, and I’m standing there trying to figure out what the hell I’m supposed to say now.

  “Is the food any good?” Anton asks, looking up at the menu on the wall behind the counter. Mr. Chan is watching the three of us, and I give him a small smile.

  “It’s the best,” Luke answers.

  “Are you hungry?” I ask.

  “Uh, not really. I, uh...I had a big lunch.”

  He watches Luke. Luke watches me.

  “Would you like to sit?” I ask, not knowing what else to say.

  “I don’t want to interrupt.” The tone is abrupt and more severe than I’m used to hearing from him.

  “It’s fine. We’re just having some soup and talking. Luke, do you mind if Anton joins us?”

  “Of course not,” he says, gesturing to the free chair at our table.

  I hate putting Luke in this position, but I don’t want to be rude, either. This is so awkward.

  Anton pulls the extra chair out, and we all sit down. I watch him as he smooths down his tie and adjusts his suit jacket. I think this is Anton being nervous. I’ve never seen him sweat before. “So, Luke,” he begins, and I cringe, not knowing where this conversation is going to go or what he’s going to say. “Harper never told me what it is you do.”

  “I’m a therapist.”

  Anton looks over at me and then back at Luke. “Do you work at the rehabilitation center where Harper’s mother is admitted?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Luke’s answer is clipped, and his jaw tightens like it does when he’s mad or upset. I’ve seen it a few times, and I’ve started to notice a pattern.

  “So, is that how the two of you met?”

  “Yes.”

  Anton nods, and Luke crosses his arms over his chest. His focus shifts from me to Anton and then back to me. I wonder what he’s thinking and I wish Anton weren’t here so I could ask him. This is my time with Luke, and I hate that Anton’s intruding on that.

  “Harper and I also used to practically be neighbors, so we saw each other a few times outside of the rehab facility.”

  “Really?” Anton asks, casting his gaze on me.

  “Yeah. I used to live here, actually.”

  “Here?” Anton’s face scrunches in confusion.

  “Well, upstairs. Above the restaurant.”

  His eyes look around the restaurant and then up, probably wondering what the hell could be up there worth living in. “I see.”

  Our conversation drifts from what Anton does for a living to his favorite Asian place uptown. I think Mr. Chan overhears that comment and takes offense. His scowl is prominent tonight, and it’s directed at Anton. Luke should be happy that the heat is now on someone else.

  When Luke and I both finish our soup, I stack our bowls and trays and take them up to the counter, delivering them to Mr. Chan and asking if he needs my help tonight.

  “Look like you have hands full.” He harrumphs and walks back toward the kitchen.

  Yeah, Mr. Chan is not a fan.

  “Harper,” Anton says, standing from his chair. “My car’s out front, so I’ll give you a ride home.”

  “Oh, well...thank you.” It’s not what I want. I want Luke to walk me home again, but it’d be rude for me to say anything besides thank you.

  Luke inhales deeply through his nose and pushes his chair back in with a little more force than is necessary.

  “Well, Luke,” Anton says, offering his hand, “it was a pleasure meeting you.”

  “Just make sure she gets home safely,” he says, shaking Anton’s hand, obviously out of politeness and nothing more. He then leans over and places his lips to my temple for the second time tonight, but this time, it’s not a light brush. All his lips touch my skin, and they leave a tingle in their wake. I feel it even after he begins to walk off.

  “I’ll see you next week, if not before,” he says when the three of us are out on the sidewalk.

  “Yeah, I’ll see you next week.”

  When Anton opens the car door for me, I can’t help but turn around and watch Luke. He’s at the corner, waiting on the light, and he turns around to look at me—eyes smoldering, jaw tight.

  As we pull away from the curb, Anton reaches across the console and takes my hand into his. He’s never this touchy-feely, so I can only assume it’s because of Luke. I don’t hold his hand back. I just stay still. His touch isn’t the searing touch of Luke. It’s just... there.

  When we pull up to the apartment building, I thank Anton for the ride and slip my hand from his. But before I can open the car door, he leans over and kisses me, pushing my head against the back of the seat, and it feels all wrong.


  Wrong touch.

  Wrong smell.

  Wrong lips.

  Gently, I push him back, not wanting to hurt his feelings or make things awkward, but needing some space.

  “I should probably get upstairs. I’ve got a big test tomorrow, and I still need to study.”

  Anton exhales and rests his forehead on mine. “I want you,” he says, causing my heart to stutter and beat faster. “What do you want, Harper?” His question is a quiet whisper, but it fills the confined space.

  Taking a breath, I try to clear my head, but it’s hard. “I...I don’t know.” He’s never been this forward before, and it’s making me uncomfortable. “I don’t know what I want.”

  “I’ll fight for you...if you want me to.”

  I want to tell him there’s no one to fight, but that’d be a lie.

  I know with Anton, there would be security. I would never have to worry about where I was going to live or if I was going to have money to pay bills or buy food. I’m sure we’d spend every holiday with his mother. We’d have a three-bedroom in uptown, and one of these days, we’d probably fill two of those bedrooms with children. Our lives would be comfortable and stable. I’d be content.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  As we sit here, my mind drifts to my conversation with Layla a while back. She said sometimes life is scary, and it’s okay because that means we’re living.

  I think I want scary.

  I want to feel like my skin is on fire.

  “I will,” he replies in a desperate tone.

  How do I tell him I don’t want him to? That he’s not the one I want to fight for me.

  “Do you love me?” I ask out of the blue, and I have no idea where it came from or why the hell I just said it, but it causes Anton to stutter and shift back in his seat.

  “No, but...well, I mean...I could. You’re a very loveable person, Harper.”

  I swallow hard and try to gather my thoughts before speaking again.

  “You should fight for someone you love,” I tell him, reaching across and taking his hand this time. “Fight for someone that makes you burn from the inside out...someone you can’t imagine living your life without.”

  “I can see myself loving you,” he retorts.

  “And what about your mom? Do you think she’d love me?”

  He chuckles nervously and runs a hand over his hair. “My mother is a complicated woman.”

  I sigh, settling back into my seat. “I overheard what she was saying to you that night we had dinner with her. The two of you were in the foyer, and she was telling you that I’m all wrong for you. I think her words were, she doesn’t even know what she wants to do with her life.” I chuckle lightly and fidget with a loose thread on my sweater. “She’s right, you know?” I look over at him, and he’s staring out the window. “I don’t know what I want to do with my life. I’ve just recently started living, and I’m okay with that.”

  Anton lays his head back on the seat and looks at me. “She’d come around.”

  “Does she know my mom’s a junkie?”

  He lets out a deep breath, but he doesn’t answer.

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “She doesn’t have to know. It’s not any of her business.”

  “Yeah, I know. But if you and I were to have a more serious relationship, it probably would be, and I doubt she’d approve.”

  “My mother doesn’t have to approve of every aspect of my life.”

  “That’s true, but what happens when she doesn’t? Will she hate me?”

  “It wouldn’t be like that. I wouldn’t let it.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Why what?”

  “Why me? Why do you want to be with me?”

  “Because I like you, Harper. You’re a likeable girl.” He chuckles, lightly, sadly and shakes his head. “And you’re beautiful. I know you don’t see yourself that way, but you are...you’re desirable. I’d have to be dead not to notice.”

  I blush under his compliment, but hold firm to my resolve.

  “But we’re nothing alike.”

  “Even better.” With that, I see the mischievous spark in his eye and I wonder if him liking me has anything to do with his mother.

  “Can you honestly say you see a future with me?”

  He pauses for a moment and slowly dips his head, eyes to the ground.

  “It’s okay for you to say no,” I say quietly. “Because I don’t see one with you.” There, I said it. “You’re a really sweet guy. You have a big heart and great taste in books.” I smile, and he looks up at me, smiling back. “You came into my life when I needed someone to just be there for me, and I’ll be forever grateful.”

  “That might’ve been the nicest break-up speech in history,” he says with a wry grin. “Someone is going to be really lucky to have you.”

  “Someone is going to be really lucky to have you,” I repeat back to him.

  Harper

  Thank goodness the boutique is slow today. I’m so tired I wouldn’t be much help to anyone right now. After my talk with Anton last night, I just couldn’t go to sleep. It wasn’t because I regret breaking things off with him, because I don’t. It was because I kept trying to think of what to say to Luke the next time I see him.

  I felt awful leaving with Anton instead of Luke, but I knew it was time to tell Anton how I feel...or don’t feel, actually. I just hope Luke isn’t too angry with me. All night, I lay in bed wishing I could talk to him. Why we haven’t exchanged phone numbers yet baffles me, but maybe he’s not ready to take that step yet. There are times when I think he wants to be more than friends and times when I’m just not sure.

  My eyes were finally closing around two in the morning when I had the brilliant idea to tell Luke how I feel, but when I woke up a few hours later, I panicked, remembering what happened the last time I was that forward with him.

  Yes, we’ve both grown and changed since that night, but I can’t help but be scared of his reaction if he’s not ready for more. It might crush me. I’m not sure I can handle his rejection twice in a lifetime.

  A huge yawn causes my mouth to open widely, and I’ve barely recovered when the door swings open, revealing Luke. He’s never visited me here before, and I’m equal parts elated and nervous, not knowing what to expect from him. I quickly wipe away the moisture under my eyes and collect myself before greeting him with a smile.

  “Are you crying?” he asks.

  “What?” I reply, confused.

  “You were wiping your eyes just now. Are you okay?”

  “Oh, that. I’m fine. I had just yawned before you opened the door, and my eyes always water when I yawn,” I explain. “But thanks for being concerned.”

  Luke walks up to me, his deep blue eyes gazing at me with an intensity that makes my stomach tighten. “Of course I’m concerned, Harper. That’s one of the reasons I’m here—to make sure you’re okay after last night. I wanted so badly to go to your apartment and check on you, but I didn’t know which unit was yours. I also didn’t know if...if Anton would be there or not.”

  I have to bite my bottom lip to keep from smiling, kinda loving the fact he wanted to check on me.

  “Anton didn’t go inside my apartment with me.”

  He looks a little surprised, but relief also relaxes his features. “Oh, okay. That's, uh...”

  “I didn’t really think he’d want to come up after I’d just broken up with him. That might’ve been a little awkward,” I tell him with a scrunch of my nose.

  Luke steps closer to me. “Really? You broke up with him?”

  “Well, I don’t know if break up is the right term. We were never exclusive or serious, but yeah.”

  “What changed?” he asks skeptically, like he wants to be happy about it, but he’s not sure if he should be. “I mean, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

  “I don’t mind.” I smile at him, finding confidence in his curiosity. “I just knew he wasn’t the
right guy for me. I wanted him to be, at first. I tried to make him be the right guy for me because he was...safe, easy...Nothing like I’ve experienced before, but ultimately, he's not who I truly want or need.”

  “Was he upset?”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head. “At least, I don’t think so. He wasn’t in love with me. I think we were both settling, thinking our friendship would eventually turn romantic, but that’s not the kind of relationship I want.”

  Luke gingerly takes my hand, his long fingers wrapping around my own before grasping tightly. “What do you want?” Before I can answer, he interjects. “Because...I have to admit…” He pauses, hesitating for a moment, but then continues. “I want it to be me. I want to be what you want—who you want.”

  To say I’m shocked by his words is the understatement of the year. I’m pretty sure if Luke wasn’t holding my hand right now, I’d be passed out on the floor. He’s just said the words I’ve wanted to hear from him for so long, and I don’t know how to respond. Do I say ‘yes, that’d be lovely’, or do I jump him here in the store? I’m having a hard time finding the middle ground right now.

  Unfortunately, he takes my silence as rejection.

  “It’s okay if you’re not ready or if I’m not what you want.” His grip on my hand loosens, and the cool air that hits my skin after his warm touch leaves wakes me from my stupor.

  “No.” I tighten my hold on his hand. “I mean, yes.” I pause for a second, trying to force my words to make sense. “You’re what I want. I...I was happy to just be your friend, to have you in my life, but I want to be with you.”

  His strong hands cradle my face, forcing me to look at him. I’m torn between focusing my gaze on his eyes and his mouth. “It’s been fucking agony standing aside and only being your friend, but I don’t regret a single moment, Harper. There are still things you don’t know about me, but I’m finally ready to share them with you, if you’ll have me.”

  The word yes barely leaves my mouth before his lips are on mine, consuming me...claiming me. The kiss we shared months ago has nothing on this one. That kiss was filled with desperation and uncertainty, but this one is all about forgiveness and hope, the promise of what’s to come.