Chapter twenty-three
Reed
“Where’sHarley?”
“She stayed at home. She’s exhausted. Griffin and Maria’s baby pigeon hatched yesterday, and she’s been helping feed it every two hours.”
I crack my knuckles as I look at Stuart and slide into the seat of the backstage waiting area. We’re at a news studio, and I’m fresh from the make-up room, about to do a live interview. It’s been two days since I was announced as the Mayor Elect for the city, and I feel like all I’ve done is interview after interview. It’s all good, though. It gives me time to voice my gratitude to those who voted for me and to try and win over the support of those who didn’t. I can talk about the improvements I plan to make, and the benefits they will bring to the city.
“She told me that was going to happen any day.” Stuart shakes his head, his lips curling into an amused smile. “Wow, that must be more full-on than this. She likes animals though, doesn’t she?”
“She does.” I crack the knuckles on my other hand, not finding any relief.
“You know, for a guy who just landed his dream job, you sure look pleased. In fact, I’d go as far as to say you look about as happy as if you’d landed in a nest of biting ants… dick first.”
I mumble an incoherent response, but Stuart won’t leave it damn well alone. He knows me too well and can tell when something’s off.
“C’mon, Walker. Tell me what I can do to get that charming smile on your face in the next”—he checks his Rolex—“ten minutes. Because that’s how long it is until you’re up.”
“I’m fine. I’m great,” I lie. What else can I say? That my girlfriend has practically moved out to look after a featherless chick around the clock? That I miss her more than anything? But that I could deal with it in the short term if I knew it was making her happy?
Except I can’t because she’s not.
Maria named the bird Rosie. Looking after her like this would usually mean Harley would be in her element. Her eyes would sparkle the way they do when she’s excited, and she would likely talk non-stop about baby bird stuff and random facts she’s read about them while pacing around in those pink, fluffy slippers. But the slippers have been abandoned in our hallway, taunting me with her absence each time I pass them. And when I went up to their apartment last night, Harley was taking a nap and never woke when I sat next to her on the guest bed. Then this morning, she was in the shower with the door locked, and I could barely make out what she was saying through the door. A mumbled ‘see you later’ or something to that effect.
Something’s wrong.
I can sense it. This isn’t her. The one time I managed to get her on the phone, the dullness in her voice told me enough. Something has sucked the essence out of her. Sucked out what makes her Harley. She told me she’s just tired from Rosie’s intense schedule. Maria has sourced some bird charity to take her that will release her into the wild once she’s big enough. They’re coming tomorrow morning to collect her. So, for now, at least, it looks like Harley won’t be coming home. She insisted Rosie shouldn’t be moved to our apartment overnight, as it wasn’t good to disturb her. And she also refused to have me stay at Griffin’s with her, despite me trying to convince her. She said I need my sleep with all the work I have going on. But she doesn’t understand. Ican’tsleep when she’s not in my arms. I had the worst fucking night’s sleep of my life last night, knowing something has upset her and she won’t tell me what.
That’s what fucking hurts the most.
She won’t tell me. After everything, she still doesn’t what? Trust me? Want to share her life, her worries with me? Can’t talk to me?
The not knowing is hell.
“Just a bad night’s sleep, that’s all,” I say to Stuart, avoiding looking him directly in the eyes.
I hate lying. Not that it is a lie. But it’s a half-truth. I can’t say any more, though. Not when I don’t even know what the fuck is going on myself. She started acting differently on election night. She disappeared, and I found her outside saying she had gotten hot and needed some air. But there’s more to it than that. I know there is. I’ve been wracking my brain as to who she spoke to that night and what could have happened to upset her, but I have nothing.
Nothing.
Except this gut-wrenching rawness low in my stomach. Deep and instinctual, like a warning. Fight or flight.
I know without a doubt I will fight for Harley. There’s no scenario in the world where I wouldn’t fight for her if she’s in trouble. So that leaves the other half of the equation…
Flight.
Why do I get the sickening feeling Harley is distancing herself from me? Not just physically, but emotionally? And why the hell would she when everything between us is so perfect?
The only thing that’s changed is me winning the election. And the joy on her face when it was announced was genuine. The light in her eyes, the beaming smile on her face… I didn’t make that up.
She was happy.
What the hell could have changed so drastically in less than forty-eight hours?
A studio assistant comes into the room and gives me a nod that it’s time. It’s a welcome distraction from where my mind was taking me.
“See, it’s all good.” I turn and flash Stuart my practiced smile as I rise from my seat and button my suit jacket with one hand. This is my signature setting, calm on the outside, in control. No matter what headfuck scenarios are playing out in my mind. A trait that will serve me well in the role of mayor. Only show them what’s on the surface. What they need to know.