“It will sound silly, but when my I was younger, my dad would come to visit me at boarding school and take me out for a walk down to the Pret at the end of the street and we would have lunch, a cup of tea, and then he always bought me a piece of cake to take back to my room for a little treat later that night when I was in bed studying. It was our little thing. And it’s just something I have held on to.” Shrugging her shoulders, she doesn’t want to admit that a part of her still loves her dad and misses him, but I understand that. I’m sure it must be such a mixture of emotions.

“Well, I can’t say I have ever had one, but now I might just have to try it the next time I walk past one.” That earns me a smile from Harper.

“I want to argue the point about the second question, but I know you will just call me a cheat, so come on, let’s have it.” She gestures that she’s ready for it. I doubt she is, but I’m asking it anyway.

I sit down on the couch next to her, and laying my arm along the back of it, I ask in a gentle voice, “Do you truly hate your father, or is it just easier to say that so you don’t have to feel the hurt?” I almost regret coming in with this type of question, but if we are ever going to be more than friends, we need to ask the tough questions like she asked me.

Harper’s eyes are wide, and I’m not sure she is breathing so easily anymore. “I can’t…” she mumbles.

“You can, just let the words fall.” I take her hand, holding it gently, and she doesn’t pull away, which I love.

“Yes.”

“Yes to which part, more words, Harper,” I coax, rubbing my thumb softly over her hand.

“Yes, I hate him… but I don’t want to. But if I let the love come to the surface, then it brings too much pain with it. So, it’s easier to hate him for what he did. And it’s the right thing to feel. What he did was awful, and I’ve never heard someone cry with so much hurt as I did back then from my mother, when she couldn’t even get out of bed to feed herself, let alone me. I never thought she would get through it. But then after we moved into an apartment the Kentwalls owned, each day Felisha’s mum would turn up, and things were getting a little easier, until…” I can see tears are filling her eyes, but she doesn’t let them fall.

Her mouth opens, but no words come out.