Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Harper

“Again... thank you,” I said, and Kay beamed, dusting her hands off and putting them on her hips. She didn’t suit the place here quite as well as she did with the eye-popping color scheme of the bubble tea place, but she’d gotten comfortable with the bakery and looked at home in the dark apron.

“Thank you. For coming back. Pais needed it.”

I looked away. “I told you, I’m just passing through.”

Kay’s shoulders slumped as she looked around the bakery, closed down for the day and cleaned up for tomorrow. “You know… she doesn’t feel this way about just anyone.”

I put a hand to my forehead. “Is this the price for getting your help with the bakery? I need to listen to you talk about my love life?”

She grinned. “I mean, you’re not the one paying me for the shift, so I think that’s a reasonable price to ask of you.”

I folded my arms, sinking back against the counter. It was an odd sensation, how nostalgic this place had been—how easy it was to slot back into working the bakery, as if I’d never left. “How is Paisley as a boss, anyway?”

“Um… well, diligent, sharp-eyed, keen attention to detail. Which is weird, because it’s Paisley, and I’m like… who are you?”

I smiled drily. “Yeah… I am seeing that.”

“But it makes sense,” she sighed. “Pais was always scared of trying. Of people seeing she cared about something. It’s scary being that vulnerable, you know? I get that it was hard for her to be herself.”

So she’d said. And it made sense. But—was this her? I couldn’t get the thought out of my head, like a bad itch. I couldn’t afford to let myself dwell in it, though. I had to go back… back to four small walls in a dimly lit apartment complex, back to a little window overlooking an alleyway crowded with fire escapes and the sound of trucks growling by at two in the morning when I couldn’t sleep.

“You’re changing the subject,” Kay said, a hand on her hip. “I know you two love each other.”

“It’s not—” I started, and I jolted at a voice from behind me.

“It definitely is,” Annabel’s voice said, and I spun back on where she came in from the stairwell, a letter in her hand. I forced my thoughts back into line, glowering at her.

“Annabel, we’re closed. How did you even—”

“Paisley hasn’t locked the back door since the day you left. We’ve mostly gotten used to just going in whichever door is closer.” She stopped in front of me, giving me a once-over with an odd smile on her face. “It really is you, huh?”

I looked away. The sight of Annabel, still the same as ever with that cocky, easy smile on her face, one hand in her pocket, hair falling messy just a bit too long and getting in her eyes—she’d always put off getting it cut. I’d kind of thought having a responsible girlfriend would clean her up.

“Could at least say hi,” she said, holding the letter out towards me. “Hand this to Pais, would you?”

“So I’m just good for errands?”

“Apparently I’m not good enough for a hello.”

I sighed, hanging my head. “Sorry. It’s… it’s weird, being back here. Seeing…” I shook it off. “Long time no see, Annabel. Hope you’re, uh… hope you’re doing well.”

Annabel sighed. The heavy weight over everything, it felt like it dulled everything to a sad gray, where… well, not Kay, though. I didn’t think anything dulled her.

“Things are good,” she said, finally. “Priscilla’s really stepped up in her final year of university. Looking like she’s going to be traveling a while with her new sports club, so I’m going to miss her like hell, but I made her promise to come back all the time. And I believe she’ll actually keep that promise, unlike some people.”

“Ah.” So she had decided what she was doing after graduation. Gone ahead and figured things out without me, just like I’d hoped—that people could be okay without me. Why did I not feel relieved?

Kay nudged Annabel. “C’mon, don’t take cheap shots. She’s here right now.”

Annabel looked down with a grunt of frustration. “Sorry, Harps. I, uh… I’m happy to see you again. How long are you here?”

“Until Paisley’s better.”

Kay hunched her shoulders. “I’m trying to get her to admit that she’s in love with Paisley to get her to stay, but she’s being difficult.”

“I’m not in love with anyone,” I said, a thick feeling in my throat. Annabel raised her eyebrows.

“Who are you kidding? Why do you think I contacted you about Paisley in the hospital?”

“I—”

“You’re here because you love her. Don’t be difficult. To think, you always called me the difficult one.” She pushed the letter in my direction again. “Now, take the letter, and give it to your wife.”

I had to… wonder what Lindsay would have done in this situation. She’d run headlong into this, admit she loved Paisley, throw away New York and stay here with the people she loved…

But I wasn’t Lindsay. I was Harper.

Still. Never thought I’d imagine Lindsay doing something like that.

I took the letter. “You could hand it to Paisley yourself,” I said. “She’s upstairs, just resting.”

Annabel put a hand up. “I don’t want to interrupt your private time.”

Why everybody was referring to it like that, as if it was this salacious thing… I pushed the thought away. “And what, you can’t text her?”

“Things always work differently when Paisley’s involved.” She relaxed, shoving her hands in her pockets and giving me a loaded smile. “You know… as much as I love her, Crystal Lights just isn’t the same with Paisley running it.”

“I wonder what you’re getting at,” I sighed. Kay elbowed me.

“She’s saying you should stay here and run the bakery instead.”

“Okay—yes, I got it.” I shook my head. “Um… thanks for dropping by, Annabel. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Quit it with that,” Annabel said, holding a hand up as she turned for the door. “Just behave yourself. Oh, and come to swim practice while you’re at it.”

“I—”

“You too, Kay. I’ll be expecting you on Friday.”

Kay saluted smartly. “I’ll be there!”

I gave Kay a look as Annabel headed out of the building. “What, finally learned to swim?”

She laughed. “A little. Got out of the kiddie pool, at least. So… what are you doing with your day now? Spending it snuggled up with your girlfriend nursing her back to health?”

I looked away. If she knew we were going out for dinner… “I’ll be checking in on my job. Remotely. From upstairs, where Paisley can call if she needs help and I can make sure she’s not dying. That’s all.”

She winked, turning away with a pep in her step. “Uh-huh. Well, enjoy. By the way, Gwen’s hosting boardgame night again tomorrow night, so if you’re still here for it…”

“I’m not going to all the events,” I said, but I might as well have been talking to the wind—she skipped lightly from the room, leaving me in the dark, closed-down bakery.

Maybe I should have locked that damn back door. But… this was Paisley’s bakery now, not mine. I couldn’t do that kind of thing for her.

Paisley’s bakery. Who would have thought the day would come?

When I got back upstairs, I stepped into the living room, where the warm autumnal sunlight spilled in long rectangles from the windows and stretched across the coffee table and the couch, where Paisley lay with her nose in a book and her blonde hair, dark roots starting to show, falling in messy waves around her head. She looked up from the book, and the transformation in her face when she saw me—the shift from a bored halfway-there look to that brilliant glowing smile—it ached like something lodged in my chest.

“Hey, you,” she said, tossing the book aside. Pop science guide to quantum physics, apparently. Who knew what it would be next with Paisley? She propped herself up on her elbow, turning to face me. “Thought it was, like, Aria or something coming to harass me when I heard the door open. Figured I’d just start howling until she left.”

“I can’t tell you how flattered I am to not get the howling treatment.”

“You should be flattered. I like you a lot. That’s rare from someone as cynical and blackhearted as I am.”

“Uh-huh…” I handed over the letter. “Annabel’s going old-school and wrote you a letter.”

“Oh, sweet,” she said, sitting up and taking the letter. “Must be the updates on the gutter cheese situation.”

I paused. “The… what situation?”

She didn’t look up from where she was tearing the letter open. “Decided to try out making cheese in a gutter. You know, help develop a seasoned rind.”

I stared.

“I’m kidding. I have no clue what the letter is.”

“I actually kind of believed it, coming from you.”

She grinned, and her smile faded once she slid the letter out, scrunching up her face in confusion—and then a small, soft smile before she put it back. I frowned.

“What is it? Are you and Annabel exchanging love letters?”

She set the letter down gently, reverently. “Oh, what’s that? Are you getting jealous at the thought of me with Annabel?”

“I—” I folded my arms, looking away. “I’m just curious what it was.”

She fell back in the couch, kicking one foot up on the coffee table. “It’s a love letter.”

“Uh-huh.” I ignored the sick feeling in my stomach.

“I mean, her girlfriend is going to be traveling for months. We know she’s going to find a dozen girls to keep her company here in Bayview.”

“You are joking, right?”

“What, you don’t think I’m hot enough for Annabel? She hit on me the first time we met.”

“Yeah—I know.” I rubbed my forehead. “If you don’t want to tell me what’s in the letter, you can just say.”

She laughed, folding her hands behind her head. “I already did. It’s a love letter. Written for a little bird come to the stables to roost on the broad side of the barn.”

She’d gotten worse at figures of speech. “I’m glad you seem to be feeling better,” I sighed, and she dropped her arms, looking away, a serious expression creeping over her face.

“Oh, yeah… definitely feeling more myself. And I appreciated the break today.”

I sat down on the couch next to her, resting forward with my elbows on my knees, looking down at the floor. A sick, anxious feeling churned in my stomach, and I tried not to think about it too much right now. “When even was the last time you took a break?”

“Oh, pff…” She shrugged. “Probably, like, neolithic.”

“I see you’ve been reading up on earth history in between your quantum mechanics.”

She looked away. “It’s, uh, it’s been a couple weeks. I’ve just had stuff going on. And it’s not like you can blame me. You used to work every single day running Crystal Lights too.”

“I didn’t run a bookstore on top of it. And I’d trained in bakeries for a long time before that.”

She hunched her shoulders. “Well. Paisley the overachiever.”

“That’s just it. I barely recognize you anymore.”

She stuck her tongue out. “I know. I learned how to change myself. And that was with your help. So you have no one to blame but yourself.”

“And you like being this?”

“Uh.” She scrunched up her face, looking down. “Well… I guess maybe this hasn’t been super healthy for me.”

I couldn’t even keep track of what I was saying—words tumbled out of me in a breathless race. “If you felt empowered to change yourself but all it meant was that you changed yourself to fit what other people want from you—that’s not the kind of positive legacy I was hoping to leave here.”

She let out a huff, elbowing me lightly, but it was without the usual playful tone—her expression drawn tight, a distant look in her eyes. “Look, I’m not one to assign blame, but you should know I blame you. I mean… why the hell do you think I’ve been working all the time? I told you it’s to stop me from thinking. What do you think I’m thinking about?”

I looked away. Paisley didn’t let up.

“It’s you. I’m thinking about how you make me feel alive and feel like myself in a way I’ve never gotten anywhere else, and how I don’t… I don’t want to know what my life looks like without you in it.”

“Paisley—”

“I mean, sure I could go and find someone else or just be happy single or whatever. And I could live life like that. And it could probably be fine. But nothing is going to fill that void you left by just… disappearing without a trace. Wiping me out of your life altogether and not even telling me why.” She stood up with a sigh, her shoulder slumped. “It’s one thing if you have to go and be happy somewhere else. But you’re not happy either. It doesn’t make any sense, Harper.”

“I’m—” I stood up with her, but that sad little look she gave me had me stilled before I could say another word.

“When I told you I love you,” she whispered, “I meant it. Every single time.”

I swallowed, a hot sensation pressing against me. My breath was tight in my throat, and I couldn’t form words. Paisley looked away.

“And I still do,” she whispered. “And the hardest part is… the hardest part is never knowing if you meant it too. And never being able to ask. No, this isn’t what I want to be. It’s what I have to be while I… while I get over you. I swear,” she said, picking the letter up off the table. “You’re the worst.”

I did mean it.I wanted to say it—put the words out there and make everything better—but it wasn’t right. It wasn’t me. I loved her, but… but it wasn’t me.

“I have heard that,” I said, trying to sound casual, looking away. “That I’m the worst.”

She stopped in the doorway, giving me that soft little sad smile that broke my heart even more. “You are. But I still love you. I, um… I know you’re probably leaving tomorrow… so I’m looking forward to dinner. Even though you’re the worst. And I’m going to take a shower at my house before we go.”

My chest tightened, an aching feeling there, but… it made sense Paisley would be able to read the thoughts coalescing in my heart before I even realized them. I swallowed, putting on a smile.

“Me too,” I said. “Even though I’m the worst. Have a nice shower. I’ll take one here and we can go.”

She smiled at me before she shut the door, leaving me alone in the living room, where the tree branches dressed in their dark red and gold autumn leaves rapped lightly against the window, drumming on like they were waiting for something, waiting for nothing, waiting for me.