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  I frowned, scrubbing at a plate. Maybe I did need to tell Ace about her.

  But even though I recognized that I probably should, I still didn’t want to.

  10

  Ace

  I lasted until the end of Saturday before making Stone give me directions to Harper’s house. He’d given me a confused look, and I’d lied about wanting to give her a gift to thank her for interviewing me for the Globe.

  He’d laughed. “You hated that interview, though. You gave me a whole rant about it this afternoon. You think an apology gift is going to make up for you looking like an asshole and refusing to answer any of her questions?”

  “No, not the interview this morning,” I said, cringing at the very thought of it. I should never have agreed to it in the first place. I should have called in sick or something. I hadn’t wanted to be there, and it had showed. Things had been awkward and stilted, with the reporter basically only getting one-word answers from me. I think we were both relieved when it was over. “Harper interviewed me for the paper. It was different. Better.”

  “What, because she was the one asking you the questions? You got a thing for her?”

  “No!” I said, probably too quickly and too defensively. Stone gave me a knowing look, but he gave me directions to her place anyway.

  I didn’t know why I wanted the directions so badly. I was a glutton for punishment; that was all. I knew I couldn’t talk to Harper again. I knew that seeing her there with her daughter was only going to make it harder to forget about her, but I wanted to see her.

  It was bad. I knew I was fixated on her, and I knew I was acting crazy. I should have called my therapist and scheduled an emergency meeting, but I didn’t really want to analyze it. I just wanted to see her. There was no harm in that. I wasn’t going to screw up whatever she had with her new man and her daughter.

  So I rode my bike past her house three different times. I was about to give up and go home, but on the fourth ride by, I saw her. And her little girl.

  They were just getting back from somewhere, just getting out of the car. I saw Harper first, as she got out of the driver’s seat. She was dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt, her hair pulled back into a messy bun with a few curly strands escaping. Something about it, even though it was utterly relaxed and practical, the look of a mom on the go, was incredibly alluring.

  She shut her door and went around to the rear door, opening it and pulling her little girl out in her arms. And that little girl…

  I wasn’t a geneticist by any means. But I was pretty sure her daughter looked mixed. Her skin was a few shades lighter than her mom’s, and her eyes looked lighter, although I was too far away to really tell for sure. She was beautiful, so precious and small. I wasn’t sure how old she was, but as she wrapped her legs around her mother’s waist, sleepily sucking her thumb as she laid her head on her mother’s shoulder, I knew that she must be at least two.

  Harper clearly hadn’t waited long after her return before finding her new man.

  I swallowed hard, knowing that I had no right to be here, watching the two of them. This was definitely crazy. The kind of crazy that made women get restraining orders against guys like me. But I couldn’t turn away from them.

  I watched until Harper and her daughter disappeared into their building. I wished I knew the daughter’s name. I wished Harper would agree to get a drink with me. I wouldn’t do anything, not when she was clearly married and had moved on with her life. I didn’t want to spoil her happiness. But I just wanted to know about her. To tie up loose ends.

  I rode my bike back to my house and strode into the exercise room, taking out my feelings on the punching bag.

  I felt sick to my stomach, but that was only the tip of the iceberg. I’d believed Stone when he said that Harper had a daughter. He’d have no reason to lie about it, after all. But actually seeing the girl and knowing that Harper had this whole other life, one that I didn’t know anything about, one that I would never know anything about, that was difficult.

  I didn’t know what I’d expected. Of course she would have moved on. It’d been years. I hadn’t expected her to be sitting around waiting for me or anything like that. I just hadn’t expected things to change so drastically.

  I was angry, and it took me a bit to figure out why. This felt like a slap in the face, not because Harper had found someone else. But what were the chances that I’d end up living this close to her, that I’d run into her at all? Boston was a big city; even if we were both living there, why did I have to find out about her and her kid? It was like the universe was just showing me something that I could never have.

  I was frustrated, too. I didn’t know why I couldn’t seem to quit thinking about her, or why it seemed like the more I tried to stop thinking about her, the more I thought about her. I was frustrated with myself.

  I hated that I hadn’t said goodbye to her that night when we got called away. I hated that she hadn’t been there when I’d gotten back. I knew there was no point in thinking back to all of that now. There was no changing any of it. But it felt like I’d been given just a taste of what my life could be like, and then the fates had conspired to take it all away from me in the stupidest way possible.

  Not that I believed in fate or destiny or any of that bullshit. As a soldier, you learned pretty quickly that you had to make your own luck. But I supposed that was a lesson I’d learned way back in my childhood before I’d ever joined the service and donned a uniform.

  I groaned as a particularly hard hit sent pain flaring through my hand. I shook out my fingers, knowing that I needed to stop. But I couldn’t seem to quit thinking about her.

  I thought about grabbing my bike and going for another ride, this one far away. But I knew I’d push it too hard, ride too far and too fast, and I didn’t need that. Same problem with running.

  I had to find a way to calm down and clear my mind. And I needed to call my therapist. I didn’t really want to share this with anyone; I wanted this to be a secret. But I also could recognize the signs of crazy forming inside of myself, and I didn’t want that to bubble over into my actual life. I didn’t want to do anything I’d regret.

  I took some deep breaths and dialed her number. But when the receptionist answered, I didn’t want to tell her that I was having a mental breakdown, that I was going crazy, that this was an emergency and I needed to talk to someone right now. It rankled me to admit that I couldn’t handle myself. I’d been doing so good, ever since coming back. I didn’t want to need help.

  Anyway, it wasn’t like this was really an emergency. I wasn’t going to kill myself or anything. I wasn’t a danger to Harper or to that beautiful little angel of hers. I just needed to calm down.

  I scheduled the appointment for Wednesday. Give myself a couple days to try to work through things on my own. I could do that. Maybe I would be able to figure out what it was I even wanted to say to my therapist before the appointment. Right now, I didn’t really know how to describe it.

  What did I want from Harper? What had I expected in coming here?

  I’d tried to tell myself that I wasn’t coming to Boston just in the hopes of running into Harper, but I was beginning to wonder whether that was really true. I could have chosen anywhere in the country to go back to. I didn’t need to be here.

  I tried to tell myself that it was because of that postcard, the one of Cape Cod. That it was because I wanted to be by the ocean, at least for a little while. Because I wanted that reminder that I wasn’t in Kuwait anymore. Because I thought I needed that.

  But I knew I wasn’t really here for the ocean. I was here because Harper was here and because that made this place feel safer than anywhere else.

  I shook my head and went out to the backyard, sitting down in the grass beneath the lone tree the owners had planted for shade. Having a backyard was still a novelty, a luxury I’d never had growing up. I took in a deep breath of the air, letting it out slowly. Meditation and mindfulness—I’d gone to a seminar
about that when I’d first come back. I thought all of it sounded like some sort of hippie mumbo jumbo, but maybe there was something to it.

  Maybe instead of punching bags, I needed more yoga in my life.

  I snorted at the thought of it.

  But I closed my eyes and rested my head against the tree, feeling the rough bark pressing into my back and trying to think of anything other than Harper. For the first time since I’d come home, I let myself wish I were still back in uniform. At least there, I knew what I was doing. I understood my place in the universe. I had a purpose.

  Here, I had my routines. I tried to make as normal a life as possible. I tried to get out, to interact with other people. I tried to relax and forget what being a soldier had meant. I had my group meetings and the random checkups from the guys who had been through all of this before. I had Stone and our tentative living situation.

  But when it really came down to it, I missed the sureness of my life overseas. The security that came with knowing I was always one set of orders away from whatever I was meant to be doing next. There was so much uncertainty here, so much that didn’t matter. I couldn’t seem to get my feet beneath me again.

  I felt adrift. I felt untethered. I felt like I didn’t belong to anything anymore.

  And I started to wonder whether that was the appeal of Harper, here. If that was why I had come here, to Boston. I’d never been the kind of guy to rely on other people, but at least I’d have had a place at Harper’s side. A purpose, as her boyfriend or her lover or whatever else we might be to one another.

  Now, realizing that I could have no place in her life, that she had moved on and that she had a daughter, I was back to square one. Figuring out who I was, all on my own.

  That was a terrifying concept. I had never really had an identity, not even when I’d joined the military. How was I supposed to figure out who I was now, this late in the game? I wasn’t sure it was possible.

  11

  Harper

  Monday was a rare day off, and I planned to take full advantage of it. I lazed around in bed even though I could hear Ava quietly playing in the other room and knew I should probably get up and feed her breakfast. But it was so rare to have these days where there were no stories that needed filing, when my inbox was blessedly quiet, and there were hardly any notifications on my phone first thing in the morning. Nor was there anything that Ava and I had to do that day.

  Finally, I stretched and sat up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. It was a beautiful day outside, and already, a plan was forming in my mind. I dressed casually in a skirt and T-shirt and then wandered out into the living room, scooping up Ava and giving her a big kiss.

  “Good morning, angel,” I said. “How about we have a picnic in the park today?”

  “Yeah!” Ava said excitedly. “Can I bring Mr. Sloth with us?”

  “Of course you can,” I said, setting her down in a seat while I packed together a picnic lunch.

  At the park, I spread out a blanket for us to sit on. There were a number of other people out there, and clearly, everyone was enjoying the sun just as much as we were. We ate some snacks and then played a little ball. I laughed as I watched Ava chase pigeons around the park. I was utterly content, and it had been a while since I felt this good.

  Ava came back over to the blanket finally, yawning and rubbing her eyes. “Uh oh, looks like it’s nap time,” I said, starting to pack up the basket.

  “No,” Ava said, stamping her little foot, one of her rare temper tantrums coming on. “I don’t want to go home.” But just like that, her expression cleared. “Nap here?”

  I laughed, but there was no reason she couldn’t do that. It was warm and comfortable, and she never napped for very long. If for some reason we needed to leave, and she was still napping, I could always carry her.

  “Sure thing, sweetie. If you want to nap out here, that’s okay.”

  Ava gave me a bright smile and then flopped down on the blanket, using my cardigan as a pillow. She looked adorable like that, and I couldn’t resist the urge to take a few quick pictures using my phone.

  I had a couple new notifications, and I hurriedly scanned them. But they were just in relation to the work I already knew about for tomorrow. There was still nothing that needed to get done that day, thank God. I really needed a day off.

  There was also a message from Maisie: Made too much food for dinner. Come help me eat it!

  I grinned and texted her back to let her know that Ava and I would love to join her. Maisie was a great cook, always trying out new recipes. This wasn’t the first time she had tried a recipe and accidentally made too much for just one person. Sometimes I wondered whether she did it on purpose, so she would just have to have Ava and me over.

  I loved her for it.

  I leaned back on my elbows, turning my face toward the sun and closing my eyes as well, just for a minute. I don’t know how long I sat there like that, but suddenly a shadow fell over me. I opened my eyes, frowning quizzically, expecting to see a cloud or something. Instead, I was surprised to see Ace there, staring down at me.

  Shit. I looked guiltily over at Ava. Could I pretend that I was just babysitting her? No, it must be obvious that she was mine. We looked pretty similar, after all. I only hoped he didn’t recognize the similarities between himself and Ava.

  Ace put up both his hands. “I swear, I’m not stalking you,” he said.

  I blinked up at him. I hadn’t even though of that possibility. Now, I had to wonder. Was it really a coincidence that he had ended up there in Boston, living just a few streets over from me?

  I shook my head. That was crazy.

  I glanced back over at Ava and then got to my feet, pulling him away from her. I never wanted to disturb her naps, and I definitely didn’t want to do it right now. What would she think if she woke up and found me arguing with her father? Would she have some sort of biological recognition of who Ace was?

  That probably wasn’t possible, but then again, who knew. Maybe she wouldn’t consciously recognize Ace, but he was her dad, after all.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked Ace, folding my arms across my chest.

  Ace gestured down toward the dog he had with him, a sharp-looking German shepherd. “This is Sandy,” he said.

  I blinked. I hadn’t even noticed the dog when he’d first walked over. Maybe I was the one who needed a nap. Or a brain transplant. I’d been so surprised to see Ace that the rest of the world had ceased to exist for the moment.

  “It’s my new job,” Ace said. “Training dogs for protection.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Is she safe?”

  “Yeah, of course,” he said, sounding vaguely affronted that I even had to ask. “I wouldn’t have walked over otherwise.”

  “Right,” I said. I paused. “Is this one of those training things where I’m not supposed to pet her?”

  “You can pet her if you want,” Ace said. “She’s a good pup. She’s meant to be a house pet. Just trained to protect her owner.”

  I crouched down and held my hand out for Sandy to sniff. Somehow, it was easier focusing on the dog than it was to focus on Ace.

  “Is that your daughter?” Ace asked bluntly.

  I glanced back at the picnic blanket, where Ava was still sleeping sweetly. “Yeah,” I admitted. “Her name is Ava.” I didn’t know why I told him that. On the one hand, I didn’t want her to know anything about her. But on the other hand, it was his daughter, and I wanted him to know at least that, her name.

  “She’s beautiful. Just like her mom,” Ace said. When I looked up at him in surprise, he seemed embarrassed to have said that. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “How old is she?”

  “Three,” I told him, hoping he didn’t do the math. Did he remember that night between us as clearly as I did? I felt like I remembered everything about it, from the way he had kissed me to the way he’d slipped out, not wanting to get caught there.

  I knew why he hadn’t come back to say goo
dbye when he found out that they were headed out on a mission. But it had been hard, waking up alone the next morning and finding out that I wouldn’t see him again for who knew how long. And then I’d immediately started thinking about the fact that I might never see him again. He might die out there, and I had never even gotten the chance to say goodbye.

  I hated that feeling. And right then and there, I’d decided I’d had enough. It was time to come back home. I had enough material to finish up the last few stories, and then this project was done.

  I hadn’t counted on finding out, two months later, that I was pregnant.

  I’d hardly had any signs. A bit of nausea that I chalked up to going back to normal food when my body was used to military rations. Exhaustion, which I’d chalked up to getting back into the swing of normal life, working in the office and filing stories left and right. A missed period, but that was normal when traveling, and there was no denying I’d been stressed with everything since I’d come back. It was a busy time.

  I’d gone in for a routine check with my doctor and come out with the information that had changed my life. I was pregnant. I had been on birth control, of course, but things had been busy over in Kuwait. Sometimes things happened at a moment’s notice, and I must have missed one of my pills or something. Human error.

  I shook my head, trying to forget about that all now. That was in the past. Ace didn’t need to know about any of that. With any luck, he wouldn’t remember that four years ago, he and I had tumbled into bed together. She had her eyes closed right now, so he wouldn’t see the similarities between her eyes and his. Or all of those other minute details.

  He considered Ava for a moment. “What about her dad?” he asked.

  “What about him?” I asked sharply. Defensively. Did Ace suspect? Was he trying to trick me into admitting that he was the dad?