Chapter 5

Harlow

After my outburst I take a step away from Pierce, lowering my eyes to the ground as fear ripples through me. My mother always said my sass would be the death of me.

I didn't think she meant it literally.

I hear Pierce sigh from in front of me and when I look up at him again, I'm surprised to see guilt instead of anger etched across his face. He runs his hands through his hair and spins away from me, looking out through the fence towards the rolling hills before he turns to face me again.

"I know, Harlow. I understand this is all kinds of fucked up. I just want you to be safe and happy. Here, I can keep you safe." he says, his voice taking on a pleading tone as he begs me to understand.

"That's not your choice to make for me. I have a life." I spit back.

"What kind of life was it?" he asks, his voice taking on a hard edge. "Because from what I could tell, all you did was meander from day to day, doing what was expected of you. You never moved forward. You didn't accomplish new things or strive for more. You were stuck." he snaps the last word at me and I feel an anger well in me, but I think most of it is coming from the fact that I know he's right.

"So what if I was?" I shout. "I have every right to be stuck. I don't need to have everything figured out, Pierce."

"No, you don't. But you weren't moving towards anything. I just asked you what your dreams are and you literally couldn't think of a single thing. You were surviving, Harlow. Existing. Now, you have every opportunity in the world. Say the word and you can do anything you want. You want to get a degree in art history? Done. You want to learn French? Easy. You want to turn half of this property into a horse sanctuary? I'd be happy to do it for you. But you were so stifled by the day to day routine that your spark was being drained from you. I won't let that happen. You may not like my methods, but seeing you this way, arguing with me, that's the most passion I've seen from you in months." he finishes and before I can say anything else, he lets out an annoyed growl and starts walking away from me. I let out an affronted sound, my mouth dropping in shock before I go to follow him.

"Really? YOU'RE annoyed with ME?" I ask incredulously.

"No!" he yells over his shoulder, not stopping his brisk pace around the dirt path that looks like it's been walked a thousand times over the years. "I'm annoyed that I can't force you to understand what I'm saying. That you can't see things through my eyes. That you can't feel what I feel because if you could, me snatching you away from your life and hiding you away in my ivory tower to protect you from this cruel, decrepit world wouldn't seem like such an insane thing to do!" he continues yelling, but it doesn't seem directed at me.

No, it seems more like he's yelling to the universe, practically asking it to help him deal with me.

The echoes of his voice startle a flock of birds from a nearby willow tree. They caw loudly as they disperse into the sky and the juxtaposition of their flurrying wings against the otherwise peaceful backdrop grabs my attention. I stop moving and let Pierce have his moment. He's clearly frustrated, but he didn't take any of it out on me which is new. I don't have a lot of experience with the talky feely side of men, but it seems they always have trouble dealing with big emotions.

I stand close to the fence, reaching out to hold onto the bars and pressing my forehead against them as I watch the birds fly away, wishing I could grow wings myself. But Pierce's words flash through my mind and I wonder where I would go. Back to the life that I'm clinging so hard to? He's right. It was crushing my soul. I used to have dreams. Things I wanted to do, places I wanted to see. I used to have hobbies, things that brought me joy. I remember when I first bought my TV, I never actually watched it. It was more like it seemed I should have one, just because everyone else does. But I was always out doing things, even if a lot of the time I did them alone. Slowly, over the last couple of years, I stopped doing those things. I used shows to escape my reality, because I didn't like it.

"I'm sorry, Harlow." Pierce's voice from behind me surprises me. I turn quickly to look at him, he's standing a good distance from me with his hands in his pockets and looking down at his shoes. I wipe a tear that I didn't realize had fallen from my face and clear my throat.

"For what?" I ask. He sighs and looks up at me, his eyes clashing with mine and I remember briefly the first time we met. His eyes were so blue, so beautiful I got nervous. The thing about his sister's last name was just me rambling because I get so awkward when I'm nervous.

"I lost my temper. I shouldn't have yelled." he says, his voice full of contrition, but his words are so ridiculous I almost laugh.

"That was you losing your temper?" I ask incredulously and he nods. "Most people throw things." I say, shrugging and turning to look at the setting sun again.

"Why on Earth would anyone do that? It doesn't accomplish anything." he muses, walking up next to to look at the sun with me, but he leaves his hands in his pockets.

"I guess it makes them feel better." I murmur, starting to shiver as the warmth of the sun starts to dissipate.

Pierce takes off his sweatshirt and offers it to me. I think of declining, but look back to see how far we are from the house and decide against catching a pneumonia. I pull the sweater over my head, the warmth from his body helping to ease my discomfort. I sigh, trying not to take in his smell. It brings back memories, from the few days I had him as my patient. I remember helping him get dressed to leave and thinking he smelled far better than any man has a right to.

"Well, apologizing makes me feel better." he says quietly, eyeing me in his sweater before turning away and walking down the path again. "Let's go back. I'll make you dinner." he says and I follow since I don't really have any other choice.

We wander back towards the house, my legs starting to ache after the long walk. I didn't realize how large the grounds are, but I'm breathing heavy as I follow Pierce up the stairs. I watch him put his thumb on a sensor and see it flash green before the door lock clicks open. I wonder idly if I could get away with cutting his thumb off to escape.

I follow him towards the kitchen and sit in the same place as lunch as I watch him cook. He's proficient in the kitchen, making pasta from scratch.

"Is that lemon pesto?" I ask curiously as the familiar smells of my favorite Italian dish fill the room.

"Yes." he says, grinning proudly at me.

"How did you know how much I like it?" I ask.

"Anytime you brought it to work for lunch you would talk about how you couldn't wait to take your break so you could eat it." he says as he drains the pasta and adds a generous helping of cheese.

Watching him work so hard to make my favorite meal from scratch has me wondering if he's being serious with how much he cares about me. Or, at least think he cares about me. Sure he may know my favorite foods and TV shows, my habits and routine, but that doesn't mean he actually knows me. But it still has me curious and I decide to test him to see how truthful he's been.

"I want a hobby." I say as he dishes up the food. He puts a plate a chair down from me and sits, taking a bite before he responds.

"I think that's a great idea. What hobby?" he asks.

"I want to learn to knit. Like my mom." I say and he nods, his eyes wandering towards the window as he thinks.

"I'll have everything you need by tomorrow." he says, scooping another bite into his mouth.

"And I want a pool." I demand, saying the most extravagant thing I could think of at the moment. Pierce chokes a little on his food before looking over at me to gauge how serious I am.

"Really? A pool?" he asks.

"There's nothing to do here but walk around outside. It's important to stay active." I say just before I shove a bite of food into my mouth. It tastes heavenly and I have to bite back a moan, but I refuse to tell Pierce that.

"How is it?" he asks.

"Fine." I state. His eyes twinkle with mirth, like he knows I'm just being difficult, but he doesn't say anything as he continues eating.

"You're right. A pool is a good idea." he agrees easily.

I eye him suspiciously as I stab my fork into another bite of pasta, not believing him for a second.