The dinner
966 Words
The rain had stopped by dawn. Harper sat on the couch, the clock ticking too loud in the quiet. She hadn’t slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Jaxon at the door, the look in his eyes and the words she couldn’t unhear.
She pressed her hands to her face, willing the thought away. It was madness. All of it. The sound of keys in the lock made her jolt. Liam stepped in, yawning, his tie undone, he looked tired.
“You’re still up,” he said, dropping his briefcase on the counter.
“I couldn't sleep.” she answered. He gave her a distracted glance. “What happened to your eyes?”
“They’re called emotions,” she said before she could stop herself. His head snapped up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” she muttered, turning away. “Harper,” he said sharply, “Don’t start another fight before I have had coffee.”
She swallowed her anger, forcing calm. “Then maybe you should have been here last night.”
“I told you.”
“I know. Work. Always work.” Her voice cracked. “Just forget it.”
He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You are being dramatic again.”
“Right,” she said, her voice quiet. “Because God forbid I want my husband home on our anniversary.”
Liam stared at her for a long second, then said, “You knew what you were marrying, Harper.” He grabbed his mug and walked off toward the shower. She sat still, every muscle tight, every emotion buried so deep it hurt to breathe.
The next day at dinner, the scent of roasted rosemary chicken filled the house. Harper set the table carefully, her hands moving with mechanical grace, wine glasses, folded napkins and candles flickering low. It was supposed to be a simple dinner. Just Liam, Jaxon and her. But ever since that night, nothing between her and Jaxon felt simple anymore.
She caught herself adjusting her hair in the reflection of the dining room window, then stopped. Why did she care? She shouldn’t but she did.
The doorbell rang. Liam’s voice came from upstairs, “Babe, can you get that?”
She inhaled sharply, wiped her palms on her dress, and opened the door. Jaxon stood there with sharp suit, sleeves rolled to his forearms, eyes holding that same quiet fire she had been trying to forget.
“Evening,” he said softly. Her heart stuttered.
“You’re here early." He smirked. “Can I come in?”
She nodded, stepping aside. Their arms touched a bit as he entered, and that faint, electric warmth crawled up her skin. Jaxon placed a bottle of red wine on the counter. “Thought Liam would like this, and maybe you too.”
“Thanks.” Her voice came out lower than she meant.
Moments later, Liam came down cheerful and easygoing. “Jax! Man, you’re always on time. Come on, let’s eat.”
They sat. Small talk filled the air like static business deals, gym talk and harmless jokes. But under the table, Harper couldn’t stop noticing every movement Jaxon made. The way he laughed, the way his fingers tapped against his glass. Every second made it harder to breathe.
“So,” Liam said halfway through dinner, “Jax, how’s the project in Seattle? Still thinking of moving back for good?”
Jaxon’s eyes flicked to Harper, just for a second. “Not sure yet,” he said slowly. “It depends on… what’s here.”
Liam grinned. “You mean who’s here.” He elbowed him lightly. “Still no girlfriend?”
Jaxon chuckled. “I haven't found the right one yet but it's a matter of time."
Harper’s fork slipped, clattering against her plate. Liam didn’t notice but Jaxon did. His gaze flicked to hers again steady and knowing.
Later, after dinner, Liam got a call and stepped into his office. “Won’t take long,” he said. The moment the door closed, silence filled the room.
Harper started stacking plates, desperate for something to do. Jaxon rose to help, brushing past her at the sink. Their arms touched again. This time, neither moved away.
“You shouldn’t look at me like that, I'm somebody's wife.” she whispered. He didn’t step back. “You think I can just stop?”
Her chest tightened. “Liam’s in the next room.” Jaxon’s voice dropped, rough with restraint." I'm not scared of him"
Seconds stretched, the sound of Liam’s muffled voice echoing faintly down the hall. Harper stared at the sink, water running over her hands, heart racing too fast to steady. He turned her gently, his fingers touching the edge of her wrist.
“I can’t keep pretending this doesn’t mean anything,” he said quietly. She blinked rapidly. “You can’t say that.”
He gave a faint, sad smile. “Then, you say it means nothing and I will believe you.”
The sound of Liam’s footsteps snapped her out of it. She stepped back instantly, nearly dropping a glass. Jaxon grabbed it before it hit the counter, his hand steady, hers trembling.
Liam walked in, unmindful. “You guys doing dishes or starting a water fight?” Harper forced a laugh. “Just cleaning up.”
“Good,” Liam said, kissing her cheek before turning to Jaxon. “Man, it’s great having you here again. It fleels like old times.”
Jaxon smiled faintly. “Yeah,” he said. “Almost.”
Harper’s heart twisted. The word almost echoed through her head long after Jaxon left that night and when she finally crawled into bed beside her husband, she no longer felt safe there.
- Writer
