Grace Carter's POV
Love is a breeze some days.
Then there are days where you feel like you're driving it by yourself.
I tried to tell myself the next morning that there was no need to worry too much about it because Ethan was out of the picture.
I set up the nursery.
Folded all the tiny baby clothes 3 times this week.
Watered the plants.
Responded to emails with questions relating to my design portfolio.
Even attended my online prenatal group for an hour.
When they laughed I laughed.
When I was asked how marriage got along, I cracked a joke and said, "married life is great.
I typed "I'm doing well.
Of course, it wasn't a complete fib.
It was only a part of the truth.
Under all this there was one hard question.
How could a man make me feel so loved one night... and so uncertain the next morning?
---
At the lunch time Harper came in with two paper bags from my favorite café.
"I brought soup."
I smiled.
I know when you need me to make you a hot bowl of soup.
"No."
She gave me one of the bags.
I know just when you need company.
So we went out on the balcony to look over the city.
For some time, we didn't say a word to each other.
Not all friendship required talking.
This was all it needed was presence.
Finally, Harper broke the silence.
He's been thinking about this morning.
I strained the kief out of my bowl.
I don't want to put him in the position of having to prioritize between loving me and being him.
"You aren't."
It's like I'm.
She sighed.
"No, Grace."
She stretched out her hand and gripped my hand.
"He is doing it on his own."
---
Across the city...
Blackwood Enterprises.
Ethan was not able to hear a single word at the executive meeting.
The numbers were displayed on the screen.
The conference room was filled with voices.
A merger was requested and he offered his thoughts.
He answered automatically.
He was there and his body was there.
His mind wasn't.
Grace's face would always return to him in all corners of his mind.
Her disappointment in her eyes.
The tears that she had been unwilling to shed.
The breakfast she'd made.
The torch she lit.
How she had said...
"Fear is doing more harm to me than silence ever could.
The words would not go away.
---
His door was open at his office without a knock.
Harper.
He didn't even raise his eyes.
I just thought that at some point security would be able to stop you.
"They know better."
She shut the door behind her.
I also gave your assistant some chocolate.
He almost smiled.
Yes, you did, of course!
She was seated opposite him.
What did you experience during your failure?
He rubbed his face with his hands.
"That obvious?"
Your bookshelf has been rearranged.
He turned his head toward it.
All the books were levelled.
Again.
I do when I think.
That's what you do while you're spinning."
---
I'm not sure of myself.
His voice was weary.
Last night, I told her things that I never told anybody.
"I know."
"This morning..."
He shook his head.
I saw what she was expecting from me.
Harper waited.
"And I panicked."
"You ran."
"I didn't run."
"You emotionally stuffed a suitcase and left out.
He laughed quietly.
I don't like it when you're right.
"I know."
---
He came to his feet and moved to the windows.
"I keep thinking..."
If I let myself want her...
He swallowed.
What will happen if I fail to keep her?
Harper smiled sadly.
So your answer is to keep her from feeling safe enough to stay, huh?
He closed his eyes.
"When you say it like that..."
"It's what you do after all."
---
He rested his two hands on the glass.
"I bought her notes."
"I know."
She goes to appointments with me.
"I know."
"I try."
"I know."
He turned around.
But why doesn't it ever seem enough?
Harper's expression softened.
It's a moment, Ethan,"
He frowned.
"What?"
You're a good player at times.
She rose and came to him walking.
"The handwritten notes."
"The gifts."
"The surprise dates."
"The big conversations."
She smiled gently.
"They're beautiful."
He nodded slowly.
"But love..."
She put her hand on his arm.
Beautiful moments "…are not built into it.
It is constructed by normal days.
He stared at her.
"I don't understand."
---
"You know what Grace needed today?"
Harper asked.
"A bigger gift?"
"No."
"A vacation?"
"No."
"A bigger house?"
She laughed.
"Definitely not."
"So what?"
"She said you had to sit down."
She turned his gaze on her.
Have the breakfast she cooked.
"Please, kiss her before you go away.
Say "I was afraid.
Say: "I was thinking about last night as well.
Her voice dropped in volume.
It wasn't necessary that she be perfect.
"She needed consistency."
---
Ethan's hands were in his lap.
I believed that love was there to protect.
"It does."
So, why wasn't that sufficient?
"Saving a person is not just about keeping them out of pain.
Harper smiled sadly.
It's also about ensuring that you aren't the reason for it.
The words took their seats between them.
Heavy.
Honest.
Impossible to ignore.
---
As children, "when we were in our youth..."
Harper began.
Has dad ever taught you to ride a bike?
Ethan nodded.
"I kept falling."
"Every time you cried,
"I did."
She laughed softly.
But remember what has Dad done?
"He picked you up."
"Every single time."
She smiled.
He didn't teach me to ride, he purchased me the nicest bike.
I learned because, every fall I made...
"...he came back."
She glanced at her brother.
"That's love."
"Not the bicycle."
"The returning."
Ethan's eyes lit up with a silent understanding.
"So you're saying..."
I don't think Grace needs a billionaire," I was saying.
She smiled.
"She needs Ethan."
"The man who held her when she cried."
The man that paints a nursery.
The baby kicker man.
Her voice sounded rough from all the feelings she was able to deny.
Don't try to seduce her.
"She has already picked you."
"Now..."
She softly pressed her finger on his chest.
"...choose her."
Every single day.
Not only when it's not complicated.
When it's normal, it's particularly when it's ordinary.
Ethan stood in the middle of his office when Harper left.
His phone buzzed.
Reminder of another meeting.
He silenced it.
He then went to the top drawer of his desk.
A pile of small cream coloured note cards was inside.
Same type that he left around the penthouse.
He picked one up.
Uncapped his pen.
Then for a long, long while...
He just looked at the blank piece of paper.
Then slowly he started to write…
Not to make a big deal about it.
However, for the first time in his life...
He was learning the hard way that love didn't just happen once.
Tomorrow it was something that you will select once more.
And the next day after that.
And each regular day thereafter.