Beneath the Summer Sky - Chapter 16: Chapter 16
You are reading Beneath the Summer Sky, Chapter 16: Chapter 16. Read more chapters of Beneath the Summer Sky.
I'm not sure how we got here.
One moment, everything felt fine, like we were carefully navigating this dangerous territory between Harper and me, holding the line, knowing how to pretend. But it wasn't fine. The tension was too thick, too sharp to ignore. And now, standing in the kitchen with Grace, I can feel the storm coming.
She doesn't say anything at first, just stands there, arms crossed, her eyes fixed on me with that knowing look. It's the same look she always gives when she knows I'm trying to avoid something. The same look I've seen her give a thousand times over the years, whenever I tried to downplay my emotions, when I didn't want to admit how deeply I cared for her.
But this is different. This isn't just about me and Grace anymore. It's about me and Harper. And Grace knows.
She's been watching. And now, she's finally asking the question that's been hanging in the air for days.
"You and Harper," Grace says, her voice steady but filled with an edge that's new. "What the hell is going on with you two?"
I don't answer right away. I can't. My throat is tight, the words sticking there like an iron weight. I knew this day would come, knew that eventually, Grace would see through the pretense. I just didn't expect it to feel like this. Like my world was crumbling under the weight of my own guilt.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I mutter, but even I can hear the falseness in my voice. Grace raises an eyebrow. I can't get away with it.
"Don't lie to me." She takes a step closer, her voice cutting through the silence. "I've seen it. The way you look at her. The way you touch her. The way you pull away when she gets too close. It's not subtle. Not anymore."
I swallow hard, the words hanging on the tip of my tongue, the weight of everything I've been holding back threatening to spill out. But I don't know where to begin. I can't say it. I can't put it into words. Grace's my daughter, and Harper... Harper is more than just her best friend3
. She's... she's everything I shouldn't want.
But I do. I want her. And the truth is eating me alive.
"I'm sorry," I say, barely able to make the words sound like they mean anything. "I didn't mean for it to happen. I didn't want it to happen. But it did."
Grace's face tightens, her jaw clenching as she glares at me. "It's not just that, Dad," she says, her voice barely above a whisper now. "It's the fact that you're willing to hurt me. To hurt us."
I wince, the pain in her voice cutting through me. "Grace—"
"No," she interrupts, stepping forward, her eyes burning with unshed tears. "You don't get it. I've been watching you two for days, watching the way you've been... acting. And I know it's not just the ranch. It's her."
I want to defend myself. I want to tell her that it's not like that, that nothing has happened beyond the feelings I've been battling with. But I can't. I can't lie to her. Not anymore.
"I never meant to hurt you, Grace," I say, my voice cracking, my chest tightening with guilt. "But I can't ignore what's happening between Harper and me. And I know it's wrong. I know I should've kept my distance, but I couldn't."
Grace's face contorts with frustration. "Do you think I don't see what's going on? Do you think I don't feel it when you look at her like that? When you can't keep your distance? You think I don't notice the way you pull away from me and then turn around and make her feel like she's the only one that matters?"
The accusation stings, and I know it's true. I've been distant with her lately, avoiding her in a way I never should've. But everything's been so messed up between Harper and me, and the last thing I wanted was to drag Grace into it.
"I didn't want to hurt you," I repeat, my voice low, filled with regret. "But I didn't know how to stop."
Grace's eyes flash with anger, but beneath that, I see something else—hurt. Deep, gut, wrenching hurt. "How long has this been going on, Dad?" Her voice wavers slightly, a tremble running through it as if she's on the edge of breaking. "How long have you been hiding this from me?"
I wish I could lie. I wish I could say it's only been recent, that it's just a passing thing, but I can't. The truth is, it's been building for a while now. Ever since Harper came back to the ranch. Ever since I looked at her, really looked at her, and realized she wasn't that little girl anymore.
"I don't know," I admit, my chest tightening as I look at my daughter. "But I can't pretend it's not happening anymore."
There's silence between us, thick and heavy, the weight of everything unspoken hanging in the air. Grace looks at me with a mixture of disbelief and pain, and I can't blame her. I've failed her in ways I never thought possible.
She shakes her head, her eyes filling with tears. "I don't know if I can forgive you for this," she whispers, the words falling from her lips like a punch to the gut. "I don't know if I ever will."
I open my mouth to speak, to apologize, to beg her for forgiveness, but the words don't come. There's nothing I can say to undo what's been done.
"I need some space," Grace says, her voice thick with emotion. She turns away from me, her back stiff as she walks toward the door. "I can't... I can't deal with this right now."
She doesn't look back. And I don't stop her.
As the door slams behind her, I stand there, feeling the weight of my choices crash over me. I don't know what's worse, the guilt of what I've done, or the realization that I may have lost everything that ever mattered.
I should've known this would happen. Should've known that the moment Harper walked back into my life, everything would change. But I wasn't strong enough to stop it. I couldn't. And now I'm paying the price.
I sit at the kitchen table, my head in my hands, the silence of the empty house pressing in on me. I think about Grace, about how much I've hurt her, and the shame I feel churns inside of me. Then my thoughts shift to Harper, and the guilt is replaced by something darker, something I haven't been able to ignore.
I don't know what happens next. But I know one thing for sure: I can't go back. And I don't know if I want to.
One moment, everything felt fine, like we were carefully navigating this dangerous territory between Harper and me, holding the line, knowing how to pretend. But it wasn't fine. The tension was too thick, too sharp to ignore. And now, standing in the kitchen with Grace, I can feel the storm coming.
She doesn't say anything at first, just stands there, arms crossed, her eyes fixed on me with that knowing look. It's the same look she always gives when she knows I'm trying to avoid something. The same look I've seen her give a thousand times over the years, whenever I tried to downplay my emotions, when I didn't want to admit how deeply I cared for her.
But this is different. This isn't just about me and Grace anymore. It's about me and Harper. And Grace knows.
She's been watching. And now, she's finally asking the question that's been hanging in the air for days.
"You and Harper," Grace says, her voice steady but filled with an edge that's new. "What the hell is going on with you two?"
I don't answer right away. I can't. My throat is tight, the words sticking there like an iron weight. I knew this day would come, knew that eventually, Grace would see through the pretense. I just didn't expect it to feel like this. Like my world was crumbling under the weight of my own guilt.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I mutter, but even I can hear the falseness in my voice. Grace raises an eyebrow. I can't get away with it.
"Don't lie to me." She takes a step closer, her voice cutting through the silence. "I've seen it. The way you look at her. The way you touch her. The way you pull away when she gets too close. It's not subtle. Not anymore."
I swallow hard, the words hanging on the tip of my tongue, the weight of everything I've been holding back threatening to spill out. But I don't know where to begin. I can't say it. I can't put it into words. Grace's my daughter, and Harper... Harper is more than just her best friend3
. She's... she's everything I shouldn't want.
But I do. I want her. And the truth is eating me alive.
"I'm sorry," I say, barely able to make the words sound like they mean anything. "I didn't mean for it to happen. I didn't want it to happen. But it did."
Grace's face tightens, her jaw clenching as she glares at me. "It's not just that, Dad," she says, her voice barely above a whisper now. "It's the fact that you're willing to hurt me. To hurt us."
I wince, the pain in her voice cutting through me. "Grace—"
"No," she interrupts, stepping forward, her eyes burning with unshed tears. "You don't get it. I've been watching you two for days, watching the way you've been... acting. And I know it's not just the ranch. It's her."
I want to defend myself. I want to tell her that it's not like that, that nothing has happened beyond the feelings I've been battling with. But I can't. I can't lie to her. Not anymore.
"I never meant to hurt you, Grace," I say, my voice cracking, my chest tightening with guilt. "But I can't ignore what's happening between Harper and me. And I know it's wrong. I know I should've kept my distance, but I couldn't."
Grace's face contorts with frustration. "Do you think I don't see what's going on? Do you think I don't feel it when you look at her like that? When you can't keep your distance? You think I don't notice the way you pull away from me and then turn around and make her feel like she's the only one that matters?"
The accusation stings, and I know it's true. I've been distant with her lately, avoiding her in a way I never should've. But everything's been so messed up between Harper and me, and the last thing I wanted was to drag Grace into it.
"I didn't want to hurt you," I repeat, my voice low, filled with regret. "But I didn't know how to stop."
Grace's eyes flash with anger, but beneath that, I see something else—hurt. Deep, gut, wrenching hurt. "How long has this been going on, Dad?" Her voice wavers slightly, a tremble running through it as if she's on the edge of breaking. "How long have you been hiding this from me?"
I wish I could lie. I wish I could say it's only been recent, that it's just a passing thing, but I can't. The truth is, it's been building for a while now. Ever since Harper came back to the ranch. Ever since I looked at her, really looked at her, and realized she wasn't that little girl anymore.
"I don't know," I admit, my chest tightening as I look at my daughter. "But I can't pretend it's not happening anymore."
There's silence between us, thick and heavy, the weight of everything unspoken hanging in the air. Grace looks at me with a mixture of disbelief and pain, and I can't blame her. I've failed her in ways I never thought possible.
She shakes her head, her eyes filling with tears. "I don't know if I can forgive you for this," she whispers, the words falling from her lips like a punch to the gut. "I don't know if I ever will."
I open my mouth to speak, to apologize, to beg her for forgiveness, but the words don't come. There's nothing I can say to undo what's been done.
"I need some space," Grace says, her voice thick with emotion. She turns away from me, her back stiff as she walks toward the door. "I can't... I can't deal with this right now."
She doesn't look back. And I don't stop her.
As the door slams behind her, I stand there, feeling the weight of my choices crash over me. I don't know what's worse, the guilt of what I've done, or the realization that I may have lost everything that ever mattered.
I should've known this would happen. Should've known that the moment Harper walked back into my life, everything would change. But I wasn't strong enough to stop it. I couldn't. And now I'm paying the price.
I sit at the kitchen table, my head in my hands, the silence of the empty house pressing in on me. I think about Grace, about how much I've hurt her, and the shame I feel churns inside of me. Then my thoughts shift to Harper, and the guilt is replaced by something darker, something I haven't been able to ignore.
I don't know what happens next. But I know one thing for sure: I can't go back. And I don't know if I want to.
End of Beneath the Summer Sky Chapter 16. Continue reading Chapter 17 or return to Beneath the Summer Sky book page.