I just need her to tell me why. I need the connection. Surely, she can feel that it’s brewing under the surface for us both, but she has to want it too. It can’t be one-sided because that just leads to hurt, and I don’t want that. I’m too old for that.

At my age, the rush of good sex is just not enough anymore.

So much for heading to bed. Instead, I turn and storm toward the gym.

Time to get reacquainted with the punching bag again.

Who needs sleep anyway.

* * *

Forty-five minutes of boxing and finishing off with a run on the treadmill has exhausted me enough that I should pass out as soon as my head hits the pillow after a quick shower. But the moment I stepped under the water, I started thinking about her again, so there was no point heading to my room.

The one thing in my life that has been a constant is work, and there is always a report that needs reviewing, a stock market that is open, or a budget that I need to work on. Focusing on numbers is what I do when I need to block everything else out. Numbers don’t lie, they don’t give mixed signals, they are predictable, and they are black and white.

I like black and white. I’m not a gray person.

Losing myself in my work was exactly what I needed, and when I yawn for the first time, I look at the clock and am shocked to find it’s one am, and I have been in here for three hours.

Walking past her room, it’s silent on the other side of the door.

Obviously, the argument didn’t affect her as much as it did me and she was able to get to sleep. But then again, she’s not looking for more. So that was her just telling me she’s moving on, and in the grand scheme of things, that’s probably the best for both of us.

As I’m just about to close my door, I remember I forgot to take the croissants that I was going to use for breakfast out of the freezer. Padding back down the hallway after putting them out to defrost, I hear a noise, and I’m not sure what it is. The closer I get to Harper’s room, I can hear her walking around, which is weird. Shit, I hope I didn’t wake her up, walking back and forth. Surely not, no one is that light a sleeper. I was quiet.

Stopping for a moment in front of her door to see if she settles again, her footsteps get quicker and heavier, and I can hear her mumbling.

Is she okay?

She better not be packing her bags and thinking she can just leave. She promised. Well, technically she didn’t, but what she said was enough for me.