Prince Charming Can Wait (Ever After) (28 page)

His adrenaline spiked, and he shot to his feet. Was she okay?

"Tell him that we failed the home study because of his complete failure to appear, and—"
Son of a bitch.
He closed his eyes as he heard another intake of breath, and this time, it was clearer. She was crying. Crying.
He'd made her cry.
"Mattie's going to South Carolina," she said, her voice broken with pain. "Tell him I will no longer cry for him. I take back my promise, just like he took back his." Then she hung up.

Stunned, Harlan sank back onto the bed. Jesus. What had he done? The ring hadn't been enough? His text hadn't worked? Complete failure to appear? He'd explained. That wasn't enough? He couldn't even remember what he'd written in his text. Something about how he'd been called away to an emergency. He'd made it sound good enough for Dottie, hadn't he? He opened his text messages, and then froze when he saw the message sitting there...
unsent.
Jesus. He hadn't sent it.

Numb, he stared at his phone, a rising sense of failure consuming him. Maria's death. Ricardo's grief. And now Mattie.
Mattie.
He quickly dialed Emma again, pacing across the room as it rang. A thousand words raced through his mind of what message he was going to leave for her—

"Hello?"

He froze, going utterly still at the sound of her voice. "Emma?"

Silence, then... "Harlan?"

"Shit, Emma, I'm so sorry. I wrote a text but it didn't send—"

"A text. You wrote a text? Really? That's all you have to say? You wrote a text, but forgot to send it?"

"I swear I did—"

"I don't care if you did," she interrupted, tears thickening her voice. "It's not enough. I don't want what you have to offer anymore."

He gripped the phone. "I never lied to you—"

"No, I lied to myself. I was too scared of marriage to admit that I wanted it, so I took your offer and tried to pretend it was perfect for me. But you know what? I don't want that. I'm tired of falling in love with people who can't even understand love, let alone return it. I'm tired of hiding from life. Go do your job, Harlan. I'll take care of the divorce, and I'm going to go live my life."

His mind was spinning. "You fell in love with me?" He hadn't heard anything past that statement. The words were hammering in his mind, and he felt numb.

"You don't deserve the answer to that question."

"I know, but I don't care. Answer it anyway."

She said nothing for a minute, then she said, "Harlan, I can't play this game anymore. Good-bye." Then she hung up.

Harlan swore and immediately called her back.

This time, she didn't answer, but he was prepared to leave a message. "Emma, a woman died in my arms today. I didn't get there in time, and she died. But all I could think of was you dying, and what it would be like if I wasn't there, if I hadn't told you how I felt." He gripped the phone tighter. "Dammit, Emma, I don't know how to love anybody. I don't know how to be a part of anyone's life. But today all I could think of was you. I'm—" He leaned the phone against his forehead. What was he doing? Begging her to take him back? She was the one who was right. A fucking text? That was what he was capable of? Shit. He didn't belong in her world, but suddenly he didn't feel like he belonged in his world either. He was completely fucking lost. "Never mind." Then he hung up.

He knew that she would check the message right away, and he waited, a part of him desperately hoping that she would call him back, that there would be one more time when she said that she believed in him.

He sat by his phone for two hours, and she never called back. Then, he did something he hadn't done. Ever. He called his sister.

Astrid answered on the first ring, and he gave her no time to speak. "It's Harlan. I fucked up. How do I make it right?"

There was a long silence. "You can't make it right, Harlan. You cost Emma the only thing that mattered to her: a family. You, Mattie, and her. She opened her heart to you, and you took everything away from her. You can't make it right."

Sweat began to bead on his brow. "I have to."

"Well, it's too late."

"Is Mattie already in South Carolina?" In his business, too late meant dead. Unless someone was dead, it was never too late.

"No, they're waiting on her brother first. They want to give him more time."

"Her brother?" Harlan frowned, trying to fit the pieces together in his mind. "She has a brother?"

"Yes, he's gone missing in California." Astrid quickly filled him in on what little she knew of Mattie's brother, and Harlan went cold when he heard that the teen had been stabbed in a fight and was now missing. Suddenly, he was brutally hurtled into his own past, to his own little sister, who had been torn from him when they were both young, forcing them to grow up as strangers. Now there was another little girl living in hell while the brother who was supposed to protect her got his ass kicked out in the world? No more.
No more.
This had to fucking stop
now
. "What's his name?"

Astrid paused. "Why?"

His adrenaline kicked in, that same razor sharp focus he always got when he was at work. "What's his name?"

"Robbie. Robbie Williams. Why?" She repeated the question with more force.

"I'll explain later." He hung up and then made two more phone calls. Then he packed a small bag, strode out into the hall and pounded on the door of his partner. "Blue," he yelled. "We gotta go."

Emma sat in her car outside Mattie's foster home, her fingers clenched around the steering wheel. "I don't think I can do this," she whispered.

It was the day that had been arranged for her to pick up Mattie for a visit to the fair, a day that had seemed so triumphant and exciting when it had first been arranged a month ago, but now it seemed like broken promises and fresh pain. She could still hear Harlan's message, his voice hammering at her mind as she recalled every word he'd spoken. A text he'd forgotten to send. Even now, as she thought of that moment, both grief and hope plunged through her. Hope that he'd meant it. Grief that even if he had, it wasn't enough. She deserved more than to be grateful for a text from a man who walked out on her.

But how many times had she held her phone in trembling fingers, desperate to call him back, to give him one more chance. But she hadn't, and he hadn't called again. The nights had loomed dark and lonely. No Harlan. No Mattie. No future with either of them.

And yet, she hadn't filed for divorce yet. His ring still sat on her dresser for her to look at every day. Damn him for making her unable to let him go or condemn him. It had been a week since his phone call. A week since he'd no-showed for the home study. A week since all her hopes had crashed down around her.

Spending the day with Mattie, pretending that everything was all right, felt like too much. How could she fake it, when every minute just made her think of all that had slipped through her fingers? Not calling him back was the right choice. Despite his belief to the contrary, he was a good man, but she simply needed and deserved more than he could give her. As long as she clung to the half-life he offered, she could never be free to move forward and claim the life she deserved.

But it was so hard. She simply couldn't stop thinking about him. Did that make her weak? Pathetic? Or simply a woman who had finally opened her heart? Because she knew that he cared. Their connection was real, deep, and beautiful. She would never forget their last night together, their conversations, their lovemaking. Harlan might have walked out, but she knew he cared. Deeply. How could that not be enough? But it wasn't. She sighed, feeling depleted and weak as sadness and grief washed over her—

Then the front door opened, and Mattie appeared, wearing her favorite pink sneakers, a pair of white leggings, and a hot pink short-sleeved shirt. A dozen braids sprang out from her head in all directions as a huge smile lit up her face. "Emma!" She waved frantically and raced down the walkway, shouting excitedly.

Tears filled Emma's eyes as she jumped out of the car. She met Mattie halfway, and swung her up into her arms, hugging the little girl fiercely. She hadn't seen Mattie for weeks, because the art class was over for the summer, and it felt so good to hug her. "How's my girl?"

Mattie beamed at her. "We're going to the fair, right?"

"We are."

"Can I stay overnight at your house?"

Emma hesitated. "I'm sorry, hon, but the rules say I have to bring you back tonight."

Mattie's face fell. "But I don't want to go back. I want to stay with you."

Emma hugged her tighter. "I know, sweetie. I want you to stay with me, too." She managed a smile that seemed to eat away at her very soul. "Your grandparents want you, too, you know. It's important to let family love you."

Mattie squirmed out of Emma's arms. "I don't want to talk about them." She ran over to the car and climbed into the back. She immediately shrieked with excitement when she saw the new princess booster seat that Emma had bought for her to ride in.

Emma bit her lip, her heart bleeding at the sight of Mattie's excitement. Grief filled her, and tears welled in her eyes. How had she messed this up so badly? How had she screwed up the one thing that mattered? How had she lost her chance for Mattie to live with her? Hands shaking, she got into the car, barely managing a smile as she handed Mattie a small plastic bag. "For you."

"Me?" Mattie took the bag and opened it. It was a book,
The Littlest Christmas Tree,
which Emma had stumbled across one day when trying to find an activity for her art class. It made her cry every time she read it. "It's for you. Your very own book."

"Wow." Mattie's gaze was reverent as she traced her hand over the glossy cover. "It's beautiful."

"I even put your name in it," Emma said, pointing to the note she'd written on the inside cover. "And I signed my name, so you'll always remember who gave it to you."

Mattie opened the book. "Let's read it right now."

Emma glanced at the clock on the dash. "The pony rides start in an hour. Don't you want to make it in time for those?"

"No." Mattie climbed into the front seat and perched on the console next to Emma. "Read it to me." She tucked herself onto Emma's lap, and opened the book on the steering wheel, nestling her head under Emma's chin.

Tears filled Emma's eyes, and she kissed Mattie's tight braids. "Okay." She turned to the first page and began to read the story of the tiny Christmas tree that had only one Christmas wish: to find a family who would love it. Emma's throat tightened as Christmas grew closer and closer, and every family rejected the tiny tree, until Christmas Eve came, and the owner of the stand took it home for his little boy. And when the little tree stood so proudly at the end of the story, decorated with homemade ornaments while it presided over a tiny pile of presents, there was no way to stop the tears from sliding down her cheeks.

Mattie looked up at her, and then she brushed her finger over Emma's face. "Why are you crying?"

"Because it makes me happy to see that the tree found its family." She managed a smile. "Whenever you read this book, Mattie, I want you to remember that if you believe and don't give up, your wishes can come true as well, even if you're the littlest tree that no one wants."

Mattie's brow furrowed. "I'm not a tree."

Emma laughed and hugged her. "I know, sweetie, but someday, you might feel like one."

"I'm a butterfly," Mattie said seriously.

"Are you now?" Emma wiped her cheek with her sleeve.

"I am. Then, when I'm in South Carolina, I'll fly north with the other butterflies in the spring, and I will go to Birch Crossing and find you." Mattie eyed her. "Did you know butterflies migrate?"

Alarm shot through Emma as she thought of Robbie's disappearance. Was Mattie planning to imitate him? "I didn't know they migrated, but it's awfully far for a butterfly to fly. Maybe..." she cleared her throat. "Maybe the butterflies in South Carolina should find some beautiful flowers down there to enjoy. Butterflies are so little that it would be a dangerous journey for them."

Mattie shrugged. "Butterflies are tough." Her face lit up, as if she'd had a sudden idea. "I think the littlest Christmas tree would have migrated if it hadn't found a family, don't you?"

Fear prickled at Emma. "Mattie, trees don't migrate—"

She held up the book. "This one would have. It wouldn't have given up. Isn't that what you said? Not to give up?" Mattie's face was so genuine and earnest that Emma felt her heart shatter. "I thought that was what you told me. Not to give up, right?"

How could she let this girl be shunted off to her grandparents? Sudden resolution flared through Emma. How could she tell Mattie not to give up, and then fail to fight herself? "Yes," she said. "I did say not to give up. Hop in back, Mattie. We have a stop to make."

Mattie scurried over the console into the back seat. "Where are we going?" she asked as she strapped herself in.

"To visit a friend." Emma started the car, gripping the steering wheel tightly. It was a suicide mission, she knew it was, but dammit, she was tired of living safely, because living safely sucked.

Emma held Mattie's hand tightly as she hurried the little girl up the wood stairs of the somewhat decrepit building. Chloe met them at the door, pulling it open and looking nervously over her shoulder. "I can't believe you talked me into this," she whispered. "I could get fired for this."

"It would be worth it." Emma still didn't let go of Mattie's hand, so grateful that Chloe had answered her call on the way over to the courthouse. "Where do we go?"

"This way." Chloe hurried down a quiet hallway.

"Emma?" Mattie tugged at her hand. "What are we doing?"

"Not giving up," Emma said.

"Here." Chloe stopped outside a wooden door that was unmarked, but a shadow on the wood made it appear as though a name plate had once marked it, but had long since disappeared. "They're in here." She managed a quick smile. "Give me five minutes so it doesn't look like I let you in." Then she opened the door and ducked inside.