Chapter 4
Chapter Four
HARPER
S hoving my key into the lock, I adjust the phone I’m holding between my cheek and shoulder. The ringing echoes before it goes to voicemail.
Shit. I was hoping Angie would answer. Shouldering open my door, I drop my bags on the counter and immediately grab the bottle of wine I picked up on the way home. I wish the parent night was on a Friday. I want to demolish this bottle of wine and not feel terrible, but I can’t. Maybe a glass or two since we have school tomorrow.
I’m reeling. In the matter of a few minutes, my entire world shifted on its axis. To run into him at my school of all places? It brings back that sick feeling in my stomach.
Daughters?
I pour myself a larger glass than necessary and take a hearty gulp. The bold taste of the red goes down smooth. Just what I needed tonight.
Kicking off my heels, I drop down onto the couch and prop my feet up.
My apartment is small, but it’s perfect for me. It’s an older building, meaning I have gorgeous, exposed-brick walls. Hardwood floors are covered in colorful rugs. A small couch faces my TV, sandwiched between two bookshelves filled to the brim with books, knickknacks, and photos.
I moved here after Marcus left. I couldn’t stay in the apartment that we had together. The memories were too overwhelming to be there. That whole time was a blur. I was so swept up in my grief that it was hard to function most days.
I was cloaked in bitterness and regret. Held together by tape, tequila, and Oreos. It wasn’t until my sister and Angie visited that I was able to pull myself out of my sorrows.
Through tears and a few gallons of paint, we made this place what it is now. The first day of a new Harper—one that was able to stand on her own two feet.
My phone buzzes on the cushion next to me.
Angie. One of my closest friends since college. I dragged her to a hockey pep rally the day I met Marcus. Turns out, she also met her husband, Troy, Marcus’s teammate, that same day. The four of us were inseparable. Until he left all of us.
“Thank God,” I say by way of a hello.
“Hey, babe,” Angie’s chipper voice answers the phone. “Sorry, I was at dinner with my dads.”
“It’s Marcus.”
“What? What in the world are you talking about?”
“Marcus is the dad to two of the students at my school,” I hiss, trying to keep my voice down. I don’t know why it matters. I’m sitting alone on my couch in my apartment. It’s not like anyone is going to hear me.
“Wait, Marcus Marcus?”
I roll my eyes, even though she can’t see me. “Yes, Marcus Marcus. ”
“He has kids?” I hear the shock in her voice. “But…how?”
“Angie, come on.”
“Sorry. That’s not what I mean. I mean, I know how, obviously, but he has kids?”
“Yes.”
It’s a knife straight to the heart. One that I thought was healed. But one sight of him—one short conversation—and it’s cut into pieces again.
Shredded, really.
I guess I never got that closure I thought I had.
“Do you think that’s why he left?” Angie asks.
“I mean, why not? I never found out why he left.”
I grab the glass of wine sitting on my table and head into the small office. Pulling open the closet door, I pull down the box that I keep tucked away there.
The box that I shouldn’t have but can’t bring myself to get rid of.
“God, Harper. Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” I confess. There’s no point in lying. “I don’t know what I’m feeling right now.”
Yanking off the lid, my lip starts to quiver, my chin shaking as I try to hold off the inevitable tears.
“Do you need me to come visit?”
A tear sneaks out and I wipe it away. “No.”
“You sure?”
I pull the pink fabric out and run my fingers over the soft material. I haven’t looked at this since I put this dress in the box.
“No. But I don’t want you traveling right now when you’re so close to popping.”
I can feel Angie’s smile through the phone. “Hey, I can still travel for a few more weeks. Doctor says the baby and I are doing good. Let me come. ”
I shake my head. “I’ll be okay. I promise.”
“Will you?”
“Yes. I made it through the worst days. What’s one more?”
“One day at a time, Harper. And if you change your mind, I can have Troy drive me out there.”
I laugh. “I love you, Ang. I really do.”
“I love you too. I mean it. I’ll get my ass out there however I can.”
“Love you, babe. Bye.”
I hang up the phone and toss it to the side, watching as it bounces off the rug. Gratitude mixed with grief washes through me, knowing I don’t have to bear this truth alone.
Pulling out the dress I wore that night, memories flood my mind. Ones I kept trapped tightly inside. I hate that I haven’t been able to get rid of these.
But when my sister told me I can’t excavate the memories that make me who I am, I kept them.
Under the dress are old photos. Hockey games. Nights in our apartment. Road trips. Silly moments together that I used to think back on and smile.
More tears roll down my face as I pull out the bouquet I carried on our wedding day. A framed photo of us in front of the Vegas sign after we got married. My simple gold wedding band.
That Harper and Marcus were so full of love…of hope for the future.
I want to shout at her. Tell her that within two weeks of that picture being taken, everything would go to shit and she should say no and run away.
Did he cheat on me? Did some woman come into his life and say she was pregnant and that’s why he left? We were only together for a year before we got married, but I don’t remember him having any other girlfriends .
It’s hard not to think about with the date coming up. Our anniversary. Every year, it comes and goes with me in a daze. I used to take the day off school and wallow.
Now? Now, I take the day off to do things that remind me what a badass I am. That I don’t need Marcus.
Last year, I met Angie in Cabo for a girls’ trip.
The year before that? I went hiking in the Smokies.
Husband? I don’t need one.
Taking one last look at the picture and ring, I shove it all back into the box and close the lid on the memories.
I don’t know if I’ve felt that same happiness since then. It’s like Marcus took all the happiness I had inside me when he left.
Without a fucking word.
“I hate you, Marcus!” I shout into my closet. “I hate you.”
That time, it’s with less force as I slump against the wall and let the real tears come. The ones full of anger and sadness at the life that was torn away from me.
All those dreams we talked about that night never came true.
Kids. Trips. Stanley Cup wins.
All of it torn away because Marcus decided he knew best.
I thought I had moved on. I went on dates. I’ve had boyfriends. Made new friends and memories over the years. It wasn’t easy some days, but I did it. I pulled on my big girl pants and did it. If Marcus didn’t want me, I’d make my own life on my own.
Until the man came waltzing back into my life when I was least expecting it.
Now what am I going to do?