I smile at the simplicity of his text.
Me: I miss you too
My phone beeps almost instantly and I laugh, picturing him startled at the sight of my name on his phone.
Tyson: Harley?
Me: Yes…
Tyson: I miss you, Harley. I love you.
Hope blooms in my chest and my heart swells with love. My hands are shaking with anticipation, but I manage to reply before stepping out of the car.
HOLY SHIT! SHE’S TALKING to me! Jumping off the couch, I sprint into the kitchen and throw on my shoes, fumbling when I try to tie them. I can’t help it…I’m fucking excited and I need to be ready. I need to see her like I need my next breath. Reaching for my phone, I see her reply ‘Yes…’ and my fingers scurry across my phone.
Me: I miss you, Harley. I love you.
When it comes to Harley, I’ve done nothing but fuck up. I made a mistake when I walked away from her five years ago and I made another mistake last week when I ruthlessly confronted her about Dallas. But you can bet your ass that I’m done screwing up from here on out. This girl means the world to me and she needs to know that there is nothing—absolutely nothing—that I wouldn’t do for her.
Not that it’s even remotely an excuse, but I can’t begin to describe how overwhelmed I felt after I heard Max talk about Dallas. It’s like my brain had gone foggy and all I could focus on was finding out the truth. Unfortunately, I went about it the wrong fucking way.
At first, I didn’t think it was possible for Dallas to do something like that, but the more and more I thought about it, I started to change my mind. When I looked back, I realized that toward the end of his life, I didn’t really even know who Dallas was. The drugs and alcohol had changed him so much that I’m sure that he was capable of anything at that point, no matter how horrific it was.
As much as I hate my brother for what he did to Harley, I’m still thankful that she has Max. It’s going to be hard to look at that little boy and know that Dallas is his biological father, but it’s comforting to know that Max truly is a part of me—that my blood runs through his veins. That alone makes this just a little bit better, because I love him like he is my own, and if given the chance, I will spend every day for the rest of my life showing him what it’s like to have a real dad.
I’m not naive; I know that things aren’t going to be easy. The guilt alone will probably eat at my soul…guilt for walking away from her in the first place and guilt for not going back to check on her that fateful night. Guilt for what my brother—my own flesh and blood—did to my best friend, the woman that I love.
My eyes snap to my phone when it beeps and my heart starts thrashing around in my chest. Hope that I had temporarily lost comes back to life in full force, and I punch my fist in the air when I read her words.
Harley: Can we talk?
Responding isn’t an option, because right now I just need to see her. Running for the door, I fling it open, and come face-to-face with Harley. My beautiful Harley. She’s standing before me, her once vibrant green eyes now dull and puffy, her cheeks shimmering with tears. My hands itch to reach for her, but I can’t—not yet.
My phone pings again, but I hesitate to check it, afraid that if I look away she might disap
pear. Is it possible that I’ve thought about her and wished for her so many times that somehow my mind was able to conjure her up?
“You’ve got a text,” she says with a small grin, pointing to my phone.
“Is it from you?” I ask cautiously, afraid to get my hopes up. Her small grin turns into a shy smile and she nods.
“What does it say?”
“It says, ‘I love you too,’” she whispers.
Relief floods my body, and this time I don’t think twice about yanking her into my arms and smashing her to my chest. She half laughs, half cries when she buries her face in my shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” she hiccups, sniffing her nose.
I pull back a fraction and look down into the face of my forever. “Did you just snot me?” She snorts with laughter, tightening her grip around my waist. Sliding my hands up the length of her delicate back, I cup her face between my hands.
“Do you forgive me?” she asks.
Tilting my head forward, I brush my lips across hers and she whimpers. “There’s nothing to forgive.” She tries to protest, but I seal my mouth over her lips, drinking in her words. Her tongue tangles with mine, and with each glide she manages to soothe my aching soul. I pull my mouth from hers just enough to see her eyes, which are now shining with love. “I think the more important question is, do you forgive me?” She opens her mouth to respond, but I lay my finger against her lips. “I’m so sorry, Harley. I know I fucked up—again—the other night. I should have never accused you of the things I accused you of.” Tears start running down her flushed cheeks and I wipe them away with my thumbs. “I believe you. Of course I believe you. I just wasn’t ready to accept it. I was upset and angry and I took it out on you, and I’m so very sorry for that.”
“It’s okay,” she cries, tightening her hands around my back. We stand there, in the doorway to my house, holding onto each other for dear life. Her tears slowly stop falling and she kisses me gently. “I forgive you, too,” she whispers against my mouth. “So we’re good now?”
“We’re better than good. You came back to me and nothing else matters. We’ve got this.” Her answering smile is all I need to know that she feels the same way, but her next words are what seal the deal.
She unwinds her arm from around my back and sticks her hand in the air. “Pinky swear?”