HARPER
I grabmy suitcase and make my way out of the small private airport. The second I step out of the terminal, I hear my name from the person I came here to see first.
My dad.
One look at him, and the backs of my eyes burn. I swear, by the end of this pregnancy, I won’t have a single tear left.
“Oh crap.” My dad scurries around his car with wide eyes and the signature dark circles under them that we all seem to be sporting at the moment.
I hate that I’ve been worrying everyone so much.
Tara gave me some time to call my dad to tell him I’m okay and to promise him we’ll talk when I get there.
I didn’t have it in me to call Ryan. Instead, I sent him a message similar to my dad’s. It was probably a chicken move, but I knew I’d miss my flight if I called him because I wouldn’t be able to get off the phone until we’d hashed out every single thing that happened. And I want to do this face-to-face.
The second I reach my dad, I wrap my arms around his waist and hang on for dear life, a few tears escaping my eyes no matter how hard I try to keep them in. But I’m not alone, and my father’s embrace holds me together in one piece.
“Harper, sweetie. What’s going on? You’re scaring me.”
I take a few breaths, trying to get enough oxygen into my lungs so I can at least answer him. “I’ll tell you and Sharon at home, okay?”
“You’re sure?” He gives me a once-over.
“Yeah.” I grab one of the tissues I have stuffed everywhere these days and wipe my eyes.
With his arm around me, he keeps me steady, becoming my anchor. Keeping this secret from him was weighing on me even more than I realized. Because I’ve been lying to him, as well. A different kind of lie than with Ryan, but I’ve been keeping secrets all around.
Secrets that have been eating at me.
Secrets that put me at risk of costing me the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
Our car ride is quiet, but that doesn’t surprise me. My dad’s never been an emotional nurturer. That has always been his wife, Sharon. He’s more likely terrified after my meltdown and doesn’t know what to do with me.
When we get to their house, Sharon’s already in the driveway, a worried expression on her face. Did he text her without me noticing it? He must have, because the second my dad shifts into park, Sharon’s at my door, yanking it open.
“Oh, sweetie. What happened? Are you all right? Let’s go inside. I already set up some tea for us.” She puts her arm around me, and I sink into the touch, reveling in the comfort her embrace gives me.
This is what I’ve missed. Mom hugs.
All hugs, to be honest.
If these past few months I’ve mostly spent alone have taught me anything, it’s that we need human interaction. We need connections with other people to keep us alive, to keep our brain stimulated and our heart happy. Without meaningful connections we don’t live, we merely exist. While online chatting and talking is great, and definitely better than nothing, it certainly can’t fully replace real people. At least not for me.
At the same time, I’ve also learned it’s fine to be alone. It’s actually nice to not worry about every little thing, like if someone wants to watch the same movie as you or not. It sounds silly, but this time has helped me find some solace in being alone. There is a big difference between being alone and lonely, though. One is good to a certain extent, the other one not so much. Which still doesn’t mean you have to be miserable around the clock. You can be happy at times and even have fun but still not be fully okay.
Sharon leads me into the living room and sits on one of the couches with me, while my dad disappears into the kitchen after they share a look.
He joins us a few minutes later with tea for me and Sharon.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Of course.” He remains standing, something he tends to do whenever he’s unsure of what’s to come.
I wonder if it calms down his fight or flight response. Which doesn’t lessen his intense gaze on me one bit. He’s waiting. Silently urging me to tell him what’s going on.
He’s like most guys. He wants to know the problem so he can fix it. I hope he’ll understand he can’t fix this one. Not by a long shot.
Wanting to fix this would imply there’s something wrong with it which is definitely not the case. All in all, it’s one of the most beautiful things that has ever happened to me, especially if you isolate all of the heartache surrounding it.