The smell of remorse and warm brownies filled the air the morning after Harper's visit.
Not mine, oddly enough. I felt... lighter. The stress that had been living rent-free in my chest since the wedding seemed to have been released by laughter. Ethan, though? He was a different matter.
When I entered the kitchen, he was already dressed, his shirt was clean, his jaw was clenched, and his phone was a lifeline stuck to his ear.
He whispered into the receiver, "No, reschedule the Zurich call." The real estate review should be moved to Friday. If they're "not flexible," I don't care. Make them adaptable.
I lingered in the doorway, unsure. He looked good. Too good. He had clean lines, a pricey watch, and the kind of cool detachment that could put out a wildfire. When he hung up, I cleared my throat and said, "Coffee?" He blinked at me as if I were speaking Morse code. "I made a pot," I added. "Not poisoned. Probably."
A ghost of a smile pulled at his lips. "Thanks." Before we could descend into awkward silence, Harper swept in, barefoot, sporting one of Ethan's old college hoodies as if it belonged to her.
"Well, don't you two look delightfully tense," she joked, making her way straight to the coffee as if she owned the penthouse. "Sleep well? I did. Nothing like baked goods and unresolved sexual tension."
I almost let my mug fall.
Ethan let out a grunt. "Harper."
"What? I'm merely expressing what everyone is considering. With wide-eyed innocence, she glanced between us. "You two obviously get along."
I gave a snort. "That's...debatable."
Harper told Ethan, utterly disregarding me, "She's just upset that you referred to the marriage as a sale." "Really, dude? Even you would find that low.
He gave his temples a rub. The call was about business. Furthermore, it *is* a transaction.
She shot back, "That doesn't mean you have to sound like a robot during it." You married a goddess after knocking her up. Perhaps avoid coming across as though you are proposing a merger.
I wanted to disappear. Additionally, though I had a slight craving for popcorn.
Now protective, Ethan crossed his arms. "It's difficult."
Harper's eyes were piercing and surprisingly tender as she leaned against the counter. "No, it isn't. All you're feeling is fear. It has always been. You conceal yourself behind your wealth, boardrooms, and that absurd poker smile. However, Ethan, you have another chance. An actual one. Don't mess it up.
He didn't respond.
She moved in closer, her voice softer. "You will become a father. For the first time in years, you have a woman living with you who makes this house feel like home. Just because you're scared to feel something doesn't mean you should ignore her.
Ethan's jaw tensed, but he remained silent.
Harper then turned to face me.
"Grace, don't let him trick you," she said. He's not cold-hearted. Simply put, there is no hope.
I chuckled gently, but it made me feel warm.
Harper went to the guest suite to "borrow" a spa robe and nap, leaving Ethan alone by the kitchen island in silence.
I made a cup of coffee for him.
"No poison," I gently teased once more.
He took it this time. Our fingers brushed.
And I swear—for the first time since this whole thing began—I felt him begin to let his guard down.