I gesture to the marred and mangled skin on my arm. I had thought about hiding it before she got here because truly, no one wants to look at that, but I already figured out I don’t owe her anything.
She blinks at me. “Right, uh, I’m sorry about Noah.”
I flinch as if she’s hit me and then shake my head, not wanting to think about that. “Yeah, so let’s get to it. Obviously, our wedding is off.”
She leans forward, reaches for my hand which is lying in my lap, and then draws back quickly. She’s looking at the marred skin that has only recently had the bandages removed. It’s ugly, but it does look better than it did a month ago. “Look, Logan, I know I should have been here before now. I just can’t... I’m not strong enough to deal with... you know...”
I shake my head, not understanding. “Deal with what, exactly? An injured fiancé that you said you loved? A month, Harper. I’ve been here a fuckin’ month, and all you’ve done is text me. That’s it. No calls—hell, you couldn’t even be bothered to drive the hour here to see me. So yeah, the marriage is definitely off.”
She stands up and takes a step toward me. Her forehead is creased, but that’s the only evidence that she’s unsettled right now. Her makeup is perfect, she doesn’t have a hair out of place, and she looks completely put together. Definitely not like a woman that has been worried about her fiancé. “It’s done, Harper. I want you to leave.”
“But...”
I shake my head and point at the door. “Leave, Harper. I don’t even want to look at you right now.”
She gasps, and her eyes go wide. I’ve offended her, obviously. She grabs tightly on to the strap of her purse and turns, stalking toward the door. I don’t let out the breath I’m holding until the door shuts behind her and I’m reminded that I’m alone... again.