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I take a deep breath, trying to keep myself together. I can do this. I can get through this. I just need to make us dinner before I bundle up in my warm bed with the opportunity to sulk.
Two more days of work, and then it’s the weekend.
Will Harv fire his nurse, Claire? Will he expect me to quit my job?
I finally found something for myself, something I love. I can see myself working at the environmental firm for a long time and hopefully doing my master’s in biological sciences or business down the road.
So many thoughts and questions pop into my mind, but I brush them off. Tonight, I’m mentally drained, so instead I clean myself before putting on a long Harry Potter T-shirt.
I can almost feel the insides of my stomach disintegrating, like my body has succumbed to death already. This week has been one of the best and worst of my life. Sadly, my thoughts are too preoccupied by Damon to allow any reconciliation with Harv.
Why didn’t I give myself time? Why didn’t I think. This. Through?
Could I do it—try again with Harv? Maybe he just needs another chance. Maybe then he’ll change. Maybe everything can get better with time.
Before I head out to the kitchen, I decide to push all thoughts of Damon away. I tell myself I’ll focus on Harvey and only him until I head for bed.
Because he deserves it.
He asked for a second chance, and months ago I would’ve died hearing those words come out of his mouth. I owe it to the both of us.
I can’t promise the outcome will change, but there’s no hurt in trying.
In the kitchen, I settle for making us grilled cheeses, eager for something quick and easy.
I’m baffled when Harvey comes wheeling out of his room and places plates and napkins on the table, something he rarely does. I thank him and continue with dinner while he watches TV.
I’m beyond nervous when we finally join each other at the table to eat. I’m not the same girl from months ago. I’m not even the same girl from two weeks ago. As we sit through this silence, I wonder if his brother, Henrik, told him I slept with someone else after I shared my secret with him.
If Harvey knows, will he ask? Would he lose his shit if he found out?
We eat in peace, which helps toss away some of the nerves tucked within. As I’m about to clear the table, he puts a hand on my arm, stopping me.
“What’s on your mind, Gemma?” He leans forward, and I’m taken aback. “You’ve been happy lately, and you look miserable right now. Tell me you want to try.”
Things changed.
They changed so fast I couldn’t stop them.
I’m so sorry. Forgive me. Please, forgive me.
“I want to try,” I say instead. “It’s just been a long week.”
He nods and lets go of my arm, leaning back in his chair. I take the opportunity to ask what it is I really want to know.
“Why didn’t you tell me what Stefan told you at physio?” I refer to the fact that Stefan McKleen, his physiotherapist, has high hopes, based on Harvey’s current progress, that he might be able to walk with or without a brace soon.
No more wheelchair except perhaps for long distances. But the amount of work to get there will be immense, and nobody has to want it more than Harv.
He shrugs and looks away. “No point talking about it until I can make it happen. It’s all ... hypothetical.”
His answer boils my blood. “Sure, sure. But you’ve managed to overcome all hypotheticals in the past. You shouldn’t doubt yourself.”
“I’m not doubting myself. Why’re you mad?”
I shake my head and clear the table, allowing myself some distance. When I’m done with the dishes, I turn around, my back to the kitchen sink. “Does she know?”
He avoids my gaze. “Of course. Claire’s my PT assistant. Don’t make this into something it’s not. You haveno rightto talk; you’ve been MIA for the past few months!”
