That last message came in right after I’d finished a drug bust, leaning against the squad car trying to catch my breath.
I read it once and shot back: “Don’t need updates anymore. Thanks.”
Got back an emoji. That was it.
I figured when Harrison crawled back to New York, he’d hole up at his parents‘ place first, maybe lick his wounds for a while.
After getting his ass handed to him like that, you’d think he’d want to avoid more humiliation.
But the next morning, I walked into my office and there he was–blocking my doorway like some kind of desperate stalker.
Jesus, he looked like absolute hell. Hair greasy and matted, scraggly beard covering his hollow cheeks, jacket so filthy it was practically shining. His eyes were completely bloodshot, like he hadn’t slept in days.
His voice came out like sandpaper, desperate and frantic.
“Vivian, I’m back.”
I frowned and tried to step around him, but he moved to block me.
“Get out of my way.”
“No!”
His voice cracked and his eyes suddenly went watery.
“Vivian, I fucked up, okay? I know that now! Celeste is a lying bitch–she never gave a shit about me, just my money! She played me like a complete sucker!”
He grabbed my arm, gripping way too tight.
“Please, you gotta help me. Talk to my parents, get them to let me back into the company? I swear I’ll straighten up, no more
bullshit!”
I yanked my arm free. “Your mess, your problem.”
Harrison panicked, leaning in so close I could smell the desperation on him.
‘NO!!! I know you’re in love with me, Vivian. Have been for years, right?”
My blood turned to ice.
How the fuck did he know?
All those feelings I’d buried in those journals, all that pathetic pining I’d never voiced–he knew about it?
So all these years of him treating me like I was invisible, worshipping Celeste, humiliating me–what was that? Some sick game?
19:05
Fifteen Years of Low Love in One
Chapter 9
Had he been enjoying watching me make a fool of myself? Getting off on seeing me hurt?
Harrison kept talking, thinking he’d found his golden ticket, voice turning wheedling and pathetic.
“You’ve loved me for so long. No way you’d just throw that away now.”
“We can get back together, Vivian. I know I was an asshole before. I’ll do better.”
He paused, glancing at my stomach with calculating eyes.
“I know you need a baby. That’s fine–once I’m back at the company, we’ll have another kid. I’ll be a good husband this time, I promise.”
Then his stare got laser–focused on my belly.
I was wearing a fitted sweater under my police jacket today, and when I’d moved to get away from him, the jacket had fallen. open, revealing the slight curve of my belly.
Harrison’s hand was shaking as he stared, his voice barely a whisper.
“You’re… you’re still pregnant?”
The air went dead between us. Then he took a desperate gamble.
“That baby… is it mine? You lied your ass off at the hospital! You never lost the baby, right?”
Something twisted in my chest and I was about to respond when a deep voice cut through from behind me.
“Hey Whitmore, if you want kids so bad, go make your own. Obsessing over someone else’s baby is pretty fucking pathetic.”
19-03
Chapter 10
Chapter 10
