“You can’t do this to me!” she stormed.

Her hands were curled into such tight fists, he knew it was only with difficulty she refrained from pummeling him.

“Do what, Steph?” he asked quietly.

“Come back into my life like this. Haunt me this way. Why, Harry? Why?”

She was so distressed, he reached out and rested the back of his fingers, oh, so lightly, against her cheek.

“I would never do anything to hurt you, Steph, you must know that. And as for haunting you—I didn’t know you were working in the clinic. Yes, I’d have contacted you, probably tomorrow or the next day. I wanted to see you….”

There—he’d said it.