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I can’t leave him.
“Promise me you’ll watch him like a hawk.”
He promises and then leaves.
I gather all my courage, knocking on Harvey’s door. When I step in, I adjust the light in his room—it’s dark in here.
He’s not gaming like I expected him to be. The TV’s turned off, and he’s staring at it.
“Harvey.” I sit on his bed, breathing in the smell in the room. Such a different fragrance from Damon, and yet so good all the same.
I’ll miss him. I’ll miss his smell, his random remarks, his laugh when he picks up Athena, his art, his silence.
I’ll miss everything about you, Harv. But perhaps one day I won’t.
“Can I hold you? One last time?” he asks.
I feel like I’m dry heaving. Why couldn’t he have asked me that before I met Damon? Why did he need to hear that I wanted another man for him to care?
He puts his hand out after I nod. I grab it, holding on tightly, not knowing if this is the last time I’ll feel his warmth.
I was right. Idolove Harvey.
He pulls me to his lap on his wheelchair, and I let myself have this moment. I wrap my arms around his neck, and we hug each other—tightly.
“When are you leaving?”
I shrug, closing my eyes. “Probably this week. I’m not sure.” I need to make arrangements. I hope to rent a truck as soon as possible.
“You’ll be at your dad’s?”
“Yeah.”
We’re silent for a while.
Why did we wait until it was all too late?
“I’ll do anything to keep you, Gemma.” His fingers trace my collarbone—his favorite spot on my body.
“I know. People will go to great lengths when desperate. Then the routine kicks in, and we’ll be right back where we started.”
“No—no—you’re wrong.”
“Harvey, please, I don’t want to fight.”
“Babe, I’ll do anything.” His term of endearment doesn’t flatter me anymore, not when I heard him call Claire the same a few days ago.
I stand from his lap, needing to go to sleep before I make any false promises.
I break all my promises to Harvey.
First, I told him I’d never go back on a sport bike after the accident, and I broke this promise with Damon during our LA work trip. Then, I told him we’d try to fight for us.
“Good night, Harv.” I’m about to walk away when I hear words I never thought he’d speak. It goes against what he believes in. It wounds his pride and murders his ego.
“Therapy.” His whisper carries through the room. “I’ll go to therapy with you.”
My hand trembles against the door, the remains of my heart breaking into smaller pieces.
