Never Been Worse (Evergreen Park #3)

Chapter 26 – Wes

TWENTY-SIX

WES

She wants to run off. It’s clear in the way she’s standing with her shoulders set tightly, waving out the window as Ava and Jules drive off. She’s like a skittish cat I need to approach with care, but the question is tumbling out of my mouth before I can even think to phrase it differently.

“Are you still in love with him?”

“What?” she asks, turning to look at me, genuine confusion on her face.

“Are you still in love with him? Your ex. It’s okay if you are, you were together a long—” My words trail off when she stops me by laughing. Full, deep, belly laughs that, if I weren’t sitting on the edge of a knife, I’d be smiling along with.

“No, Wes, I am not in love with Jeremy,” she says when her laughter finally settles before leaning back against the wall, arms crossed on her chest. “If I ever did love him, it hasn’t been for a very long time. I think I was in love with the idea of him. I spent a lot of our relationship convincing myself I was in love because he was a safe choice, and I’m not a rock-the-boat kind of girl. Dating Jeremy was a checkmark in the column of Harper has her life together, you know?”

I don’t, but I nod all the same. I graduated high school and started touring the country with a rock band on a whim, hoping one day it would pan out into something, but I’d never set ideals for myself, never made a list of things I needed to accomplish to feel like I had my life together the way Harper clearly does. She holds herself to such a high standard, constantly scrutinizing every step she makes. Secretly, I think even if she did check off all of those boxes, she wouldn’t be content.

I wonder if that’s what happened with Jeremy, if she kept waiting for each milestone in their relationship to be more or fix something, and because of that, she never let herself fully realize she wasn’t happy and might never be.

“So you’re not heartbroken over him?”

“No, I’m not heartbroken over Jeremy.” Her head tips to the side as she takes me in, her smile going wider. “Is that jealousy I’m sensing, Holden?”

And then some, but I don’t tell her that. Instead, I reach for her hand, grabbing it and leading her into what the realtor called a sitting room when I bought this place. She sits on a loveseat, and I sit on a large, comfy sofa kitty-corner to her, leaning back and crossing my arms on my chest.

“Okay, so if it’s not about heartbreak…what was Ava talking about then? Why are you three inciting karma on him again?”

She screws up her face like she’s trying to decide how to say something, then it shifts, and I just know she’s considering lying or at least not telling the whole truth. But then some kind of acceptance floods her, and she sighs before leaning back.

“They found out something I omitted from my original story of the breakup.” My heart skips a beat, but I force my body to remain calm despite my mind going through a million worst-case scenarios.

“Okay…” I say, trying to be patient.

She takes a deep breath, lets it out, and then starts.

“I had an idea for a fashion line a little while ago. A side project, something fun that was just for me, but I fell in love with it. Couture, high fashion pieces. I started working on it and decided maybe I’d show it, let it be my first tiptoe into that world. I think there’s a way to tie couture lines with more accessible fashion for the everyday woman, and that’s what I was trying to do with it. One high fashion piece and one or two pieces inspired by it that were more casual. I’d been working on it here and there for a long time, and Jeremy knew about it.”

I nod, leaning forward and gently pushing a loose piece of hair behind her ear.

“I lied when I said the only reason I was mad at Jeremy was because he was cheating on me. There’s a line his new girlfriend is premiering as her first high fashion line.” I nod again, following with a rock in my stomach. “It’s mine.”

“Yours?” I ask, and she nods. “How?”

“I showed it to him. He works for Astor Fashion, and I hoped…I don’t know.”

“You hoped he’d show it to his boss, get you a meeting or something.”

She nods and sighs.

“He’d been making promises like that for some time. He’d bring designs home from work that weren’t working for one reason or another and show me, I’d give him some advice to fix it. He said he always told his boss I was helping, but it was a lie, obviously. He was giving the tweaks to his girlfriend so she could suggest them to her father to impress him. Anyway, he took pictures of my designs. I remember the day, and I remember being so excited. It felt like something big was about to happen.”

She shrugs, then looks at me with guilt and apology in her eyes.

“A week or two after he took those pictures, I asked about what his boss thought of them. He told me he hadn’t liked them, that maybe I should stick to pageant gowns.” My jaw goes tight as I put the pieces together, as I understand the level of manipulation Jeremy subjected Harper to. “But it seems like he had actually shown them to Clarissa. She loved them, they tweaked them, and now they’re her legacy line . It was announced today.” Harper worries her lip between her teeth, refusing to look at me as she picks at the skin on a nail.

I reach out, grabbing her hand and holding it in mine. Finally, her eyes meet mine when she continues.

“When I walked in on them cheating, they were looking at designs. I went to leave, knowing we were done. I told him I’d be back later, but he told me to stay.” She shrugs, her eyes fading off like she’s caught in some shit memory, and anger pulses through me, knowing this asshole created this. Not just that look on her face but the constant battle she's now facing in believing in herself and trusting her feelings and instincts. “He told me they were taking my designs. He wanted me to sign them away to make things easy for him. I, of course, said no and walked away. I didn’t hear about it again, so I thought it was behind us.” A deep, deep sigh filled with regret leaves her. “And then we glittered his lawn.”

It all starts to click then: why no one was charged, why Harper seemed to fall apart after that, why her reputation started to spiral.

“He didn’t press charges because you gave him the designs.”

She gives me a sad smile and nods. “It was the only option.”

The fuck it was.

“Harper, there are always?—”

She shakes her head, her jaw tight as she looks at me.

“He was threatening Ava and Jules. Criminal stalking and harassment charges for both of them, which could have destroyed their careers. It was my only option. There will be more designs, new dresses, and gowns, but Ava and Jules fought hard for what they have, and Ava is the reason I even have a successful business as it is. I’m not letting my bad choices be the reason theirs crumble.”

I understand it, unfortunately, how it could have played out. How in that moment, faced with a now-or-never opportunity, my ever-selfless wife would pick her friends over her own happiness. “But they still went after you,” I say, that part seeming out of place.

“Unfortunately, though I made sure that the girls would be left out of everything, I didn’t think to make sure he and his bitch of a girlfriend wouldn’t talk shit about me. The next day, they started their press cycle, just in case, I assume. If you remove someone’s credibility after you steal their life’s work, it’s hard for them to come at you with their truth. If you make the world believe they’re jealous and crazy and irrational, they have no leg to stand on against you. Add in that her platform is thousands of times more powerful than mine, and I was fucked.”

I sit in silence for long moments, letting it all sink in, finally understanding the whole picture.

“Why didn’t you say anything before, Harper? We could have?—”

“He has the ability to ruin me, Wes. I didn’t have a formal copyright. He could easily say I stole the designs from him because I'm some bitter ex. It would be the end of me and my career. I can ride out whispers and rumors, but I couldn’t survive that. It was easier to let it go. Plus, I’m the idiot who believed in him. I deserve that.”

“What? No.” I say, gripping her hands tight and hating, knowing that’s truly how she sees this, some lesson she has to learn because she trusted the man, because, in her mind, she should have known better. “You know this isn’t your fault, right? He’s an asshole. He’s a terrible fucking person who manipulated you for years. That’s not on you. Tell me you know that, Harper.” She stares at me but doesn’t answer, just shrugs her shoulders and gives me a small, sad smile.

“Harper,” I start, but she shakes her head, not wanting to hear my condolences.

“It is what it is. I don’t care, not really. It’s behind me. I just want to move forward.”

“That’s why you said you don’t want to get back at him. That auction…you said it was a whim.”

“I was a little drunk,” she admits with a smile. Despite the heavy topic, she seems a bit lighter, like finally confessing this has freed her in some way.

“And that’s why he started speaking out about you. Because marrying me meant you might have a bit more credibility, more of a platform if you came out against him. He wanted to make you look like you were out to get him before that happened.” She nods as more pieces fall in place. “What about the elephant shit?”

She shrugs, a small smile playing on her lips.

“Ava and Jules found out about the designs. Not the threats against them, because it would destroy them to know I gave up my work to protect them. They’re angry he took what’s mine. Of the long list of revenge they were talking about, that seemed like the least problematic.” I wonder what else was on that list and if I could make them happen with my resources.

“Wes, no,” she says, clearly reading my face. “I don’t want to make things worse than they are. If he thinks I’m fighting back, he’ll go harder. Even if you and Leo help preserve my name publicly, he can ruin it behind closed doors. He could get me blacklisted if he wanted.”

“He can’t just—“ I start because he can’t get away with this.

“No, he can, and honestly, that's just the industry. It’s fine, so long as I keep my mouth shut and let it be.”

I shake my head, disagreeing ardently. “No. That’s not your life anymore,” I say, moving to my knees before her, reaching up and holding her face in my hands to force her to look at me. The walls are down for once, and I can see the vulnerability, her truth.

She’s hurt.

She’s angry.

She deserves her petty little revenge and so much more. And I’m going to make sure she gets it.

“You’re my wife, Harper. If someone wrongs my wife, we’re getting even.”

“We’ve already done that. He gets to see me moving on with someone bigger and better, and that will eat at him and his ego alive.” I smile because I sure as fuck like the idea of that, but I need more.

Harper deserves more.

“It’s not enough,” I tell her. “Seeing you better off without him, it’s not enough.”

“I don’t—” she starts, but I’m standing, grabbing her hand and pulling her with me toward the kitchen.

“Come on. We have work to do.” My mind is already spinning with ideas and calls I need to make in the morning. I told Harper no one gets to fuck with her, no one gets to disrespect her anymore, not now that she’s mine, and that definitely includes her fuckwad of an ex. “What do you want? Cookies? Wine, a soda?” I ask, reaching for a beer for myself and turning toward her. “We have a long night ahead of us.”

“A long night?”

“We’ve got plans to make.”

She sighs deeply. “Wes, that isn’t—“ I step closer to her, abandoning my drink on the counter and backing her into the kitchen cabinets. “I don’t need revenge. I want to succeed. I want to succeed without him, that would be enough for me.”

I didn’t want to plant this seed in her mind, something new for her to worry about, but I know she wouldn’t agree to this if I didn’t.

“And if he does it to someone else?” I ask softly, my hand resting on her cheek to keep her from looking away. “What then? Or if he reaches out again, wanting more of your undeniable talent?”

Her face goes blank, clearly not having thought of that. “He wouldn’t.”

“You don’t know that. You never thought you’d be here, either, Harper. He needs to be stopped.”

“Honey, I appreciate this, really, I do.” Heat blossoms at her honey , but it cools with her hesitance. “We tried messing with him once before. It ended terribly.”

“Baby, no offense, but you did it sloppily and impulsively,” I say, and the glare she gives me has me smiling.

“And this time we’re not?”

“No, because you’re doing it with me.” She rolls her eyes, but I keep going. “This time we plan it. We don’t half-ass it. We’re going to fuck with him, and we’re going to do it strategically.”

“And how do we do that?” she asks, and since it’s not a full-out denial, I go with it, stepping away from her and finding the paper and pen I need in the kitchen junk drawer before leaning onto the kitchen island. She’s at my side, watching me with intrigue as I write three topics and underline each one twice.

“We target the main tiers,” I say. “Career, personal life, reputation.” She stares at the words I wrote like she’s considering it. “Come on. It doesn’t even have to be anything crazy. Just inconveniencing.”

I’ll handle the rest , I think.

“It won’t be anything that could get us arrested?” I shake my head.

“I’ll make sure nothing can be traced back to you.” She tips her head, and I roll my eyes. “Or me.” Time passes, and I think I might not have gotten through to her, but then a small smile tips on her lips.

“Okay,” she says, and I smile wide.

“Okay?”

“Okay. We can brainstorm revenge. Nothing crazy, and I don’t know if I’ll even want to act on it, but let's do it. For the catharsis.” She’s close to me, smiling wide, and god, she’s beautiful.

She’s all mine and whether she wants me to or not, I’m going to protect what’s mine.

“All right, little wife. Let’s start planning.”