Not a beautiful woman, Harrison’s mother, but with a smile like that, she was magnificent.

Like most magnificent things, however, her smile didn’t last long.

“No.”

The moment that oh-so-familiar syllable left Harrison’s lips, his mom’s face fell. Sophie’s did too, but she stepped forward to place a restraining hand on Harrison’s arm.

“Oh dear,” she said, but he didn’t register her touch. “Harrison, why don’t we—”

“No.”

“Harry, my love,” his mother said. She hadn’t regained the smile yet, but she wasn’t put off by the stony-faced front he presented. “It’s so good to see you. And your friend too.”

When no one said anything, she added a tentative, “Girlfriend? Wife? Wallace, why didn’t you say anything?”

“No.”

That final no was Harrison’s last attempt at gaining some semblance of control over himself, but it didn’t work—especially when his dad’s sole contribution was to cough heavily and say, “She’s the dog trainer, actually. The one I was telling you about.”

Sophie winced. To be so reduced in this moment, with tensions so high they were thrumming like a too-tight guitar wire, was hardly the way she’d have chosen to go about things. Apparently, Harrison felt the same way. He turned on his father with a snarl that reminded her of a dog who’d been pushed into a corner and betrayed by the person he loved most.

In other words, it broke her heart.

“How long?” Harrison asked.

Instead of being intimidated by the fury in Harrison’s voice, Wallace squared his stance to meet his son’s. “Not long.”

“How long?” he echoed, his voice growing dangerous.

“A few weeks, that’s all. A nurse called her when you were in the coma. She’s still listed as next of kin at that hospital, and—”

Harrison had yet to even look at his mother, but he did so now. Sophie wasn’t able to get a full reading of his mood, but from the way he held himself, like a bomb that would explode at the slightest touch, she realized it was a dangerous one.

“And you came to take care of me, is that it? You came to sit up by my bedside night after night, watching to make sure I’m still breathing? You came to sing me to sleep and kiss away my troubles and do all those things that moms are supposed to do when their children are suddenly knocking on death’s door?”

“Harrison, I—”

“No. I’m not going to listen to this. I don’t know what you’re doing here or why you’re doing it, but I’d like you to leave. Now.”