Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

H arriet stood outside Simon’s room, her heart pounding in her chest. She had been preparing for this moment all evening, trying to steel herself for what she knew she had to do. But now, standing before the door, her resolve wavered.

You can do this.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She had made up her mind; this was the only way forward. It was what they had agreed upon, after all. Simon had made her an offer, one that would give her the child she longed for — a child she could raise, even if she would be raising it alone. But now, with her hand on the door, she felt a creeping doubt.

“Just get it over with,” she whispered to herself, trying to summon the courage to push open the door.

The door creaked open, and Harriet stepped inside. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of a single candle on the bedside table. Simon was standing by the window, his back to her, gazing out into the night.

He didn’t turn around when she entered, but she knew he had been expecting her.

Of course he was.

Harriet closed the door behind her, the soft click sounding unusually loud in the quiet room.

She took a few hesitant steps forward, her heart in her throat. The atmosphere was thick with tension, an awkwardness that neither of them knew how to dispel.

Simon finally turned to face her, “Harriet,” he said quietly, his voice low and even. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

His words were meant to reassure her, but they only made her heart race faster.

“I know,” she replied, “But we agreed…”

Harriet could not go back on her words now. Neither could he.

Simon nodded, his eyes searching hers for any sign of doubt.

“We don’t have to rush into this,” he said softly, taking a step closer to her. “We can take our time.”

Harriet shook her head, her throat tightening with emotion.

“No,” she whispered, “I want to do this. I just…”

Simon hesitated for a moment, then reached out to gently take her hand in his. “Come here,” he said, his voice softening. He guided her over to the bed and sat down beside her, their hands still clasped together.

For a few moments, they sat in silence, the only sound the faint crackling of the candle’s flame. Harriet stared down at their joined hands, her mind racing. She had imagined this moment countless times, but now that it was here, she didn’t know how to begin.

Harrit was trembling now, but it was not due to the cold. Simon noticed, and perhaps grew worried. But he did not express himself. Instead, he leaned in and gently wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into an embrace.

Harriet stiffened at first, but then she slowly relaxed into his arms, closing her eyes as she allowed herself to lean on him. She felt the warmth of his body against hers, the steady rise and fall of his chest, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to forget everything else.

“Harriet,” he murmured, his voice a soft whisper in her ear, “I promise I won’t do anything you don’t want. You’re in control here.”

His words were meant to be comforting, but they only made Harriet’s heart ache.

She knew he was trying to be gentle, to ease her into this, but it wasn’t enough. Not anymore.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes. His hand came up to caress her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “You don’t have to be afraid,” he said softly, his eyes filled with concern. “We’ll take this one step at a time.”

The tenderness in his voice, the way he was looking at her — it was everything she had wanted, and yet it wasn’t enough.

Because she knew it wasn’t real. It wasn’t born of love, but of duty, of obligation. And that realization made the pain in her chest almost unbearable.

Simon leaned in to kiss her, his lips brushing against hers in a sweet, gentle kiss. Harriet closed her eyes, allowing herself to melt into the kiss for a moment.

He pulled away for a moment, caressing the side of her face. “Do you like that, love?”

That was when something inside of her snapped.

Harriet suddenly pushed him away, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

“Stop,” she said, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger. “I can’t do this. I don’t want this.”

Simon blinked in surprise, completely taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor. He reached out for her, but she recoiled.

“Harriet,” he said gently, “it’s all right. We can stop if you want.”

But Harriet shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes.

“No, it’s not all right,” she whispered. “None of this is all right.”

“What do you mean?”

Harriet stood up from the bed, wrapping her arms around herself as if trying to shield herself from the emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

“I can’t do this, Simon,” she said, her voice trembling. “I can’t be alone again. I don’t want a child just because I’m lonely.”

Simon stood as well.

“Harriet,” he began, but she cut him off.

“No,” she said, shaking her head more forcefully this time. “I wanted your child to raise with you, not just by myself. I loved having Catherine around, not just because I loved the baby, but because you were there with me, too.”

Simon felt a pang of guilt at her words, but he didn’t know what to say. He had always tried to keep a distance, to protect both of them from the pain he knew was inevitable. But hearing her say it out loud, hearing how much his absence had hurt her, made him realize just how much he had failed her.

Harriet took a step closer to him, her eyes filled with a mix of anger and desperation.

“You can’t call me ‘love’ without meaning it,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want that. I would rather you leave again than stay and make me believe in something that isn’t real.”

Simon was speechless.

He had thought he was doing the right thing, keeping his distance to protect them both. But now, he realized that all he had done was push her away, leaving her feeling more alone than ever.

“Harriet, I…” he began, but it was futile. He didn’t know how to respond.

Harriet shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You don’t have to say anything,” she whispered. “I understand now. I understand that you can’t give me what I want. And I can’t keep pretending that this… that we… can work.”

Simon’s heart ached at the sight of her tears, at the sound of the heartbreak in her voice.

He wanted to reach out to her, to pull her into his arms and tell her that everything would be all right. But he knew that would be a lie. He couldn’t promise her the future she wanted, the future she deserved.

He stood there, frozen, as Harriet turned and walked towards the door. Her steps were slow, as if each one took an immense amount of effort. When she reached the door, she paused for a moment, her hand on the handle.

“Goodbye, Simon,” she whispered, her voice filled with a sadness that made his chest tighten.

And then she was gone, the door closing softly behind her.

Simon remained standing in the middle of the room, his mind reeling from what had just happened. He felt as though the ground had been ripped out from beneath him.

He had always believed that keeping his distance was the right thing to do, that it would spare both of them from the inevitable pain of a relationship that was doomed from the start. But now, in the wake of Harriet’s confession, he realized that all he had done was deepen the very wounds he had been trying to avoid.

Simon walked over to the bed and sat down heavily, his head in his hands. Harriet’s words echoed in his mind, each one a painful reminder of how much he had failed her. He had thought he was protecting her, but instead, he had left her feeling more alone and abandoned than ever.

“Love.”

The word had slipped out before he could stop it, a word he had never allowed himself to say out loud. And yet, when he had said it, it had felt so natural. So right. But Harriet was right — he couldn’t say it without meaning it. And he had meant it, more than he had ever meant anything in his life.

But what good was love if he couldn’t be there for her? If he couldn’t give her the future she wanted, the future she deserved? The thought of Harriet raising a child alone, the child they had both wanted but for different reasons, filled him with a sense of dread.

The room was silent now, the only sound the soft ticking of the clock on the mantel. Simon felt a deep sense of emptiness settle over him.

He had never imagined that he could feel this way, that he could care so deeply for someone that the thought of losing them would tear him apart. But that’s exactly what had happened. He had lost Harriet, not because of anything she had done, but because of his own fears and insecurities.

Simon stood up and walked back to the window, staring out into the night. The world outside seemed so vast, so indifferent to the turmoil raging inside him.

Am I giving up on something I will regret?

He thought of the future they could have had, the life they could have built together. And, for the first time, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to be with her, to share his life with her, to love her without reservation.

Could he put his fears away and live a life like that?