31. Jonah
THIRTY-ONE
Jonah
Jonah’s Condo
7:07 PM
I park outside my building. The familiar sight of my condo complex feels oddly foreign after spending most of my time lately at Harper’s. The thought of her waiting for me back at her place makes me want to grab my stuff and head right back. But as I climb the steps to my door, I hear voices inside—my family.
Sweet. Exactly what I want to deal with after the day I've had.
I step inside, immediately met with the sight of my mom perched on the edge of the sofa, clutching a mug of tea like it’s the only thing keeping her upright.
Dad leans against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed. His face is set in that stern expression he’s been perfecting since I was ten.
Lila sits on the recliner, legs tucked under her, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else. She looks like a grown-up version of Wednesday Addams.
“Hey,” I say, closing the door behind me. “Everybody, don't show your excitement to see me all at once.”
Nobody says a word. What in the hell?
"Tough crowd," I say as I drop my gym bag and walk to the kitchen to get a cup of water. “Why's everyone look so tragic?"
Lila looks up, her face pale but her jaw set. “The attorney called,” she says, her voice tight. “The cops want to meet with me tomorrow. Formal interview.”
My stomach tightens. “Tomorrow? For what? I thought that was behind us.”
She shrugs, but the movement is stiff, her shoulders rising too high, like a kid caught in a lie. “I don’t know. The lawyer said it’s standard—just tying up loose ends, probably. But calling it a 'formal interview' makes it feel more severe than that.”
“Maybe they just called it that because we have an attorney involved.” I step further into the room, my eyes narrowing. Something about her body language tells me there is something she isn't saying. “Lila, come on. Do you know something you aren't saying?”
She shifts uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze. “I don’t know, Jonah. Maybe they just want to scare me or see if I know anything about... I don’t know. Whatever they’re looking into.”
I cross my arms, leaning against the wall. “And you don’t have any idea what that might be?”
She meets my eyes for a split second, then looks away, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “No. I told you, I don’t.”
The air is heavy, and her words don't seem to match her body language. Call it a hunch, but I know she’s not telling me the full story. Lila’s always been a good liar, but not with me. She has tells—the way her foot bounces against the chair, the way her eyes dart to the side. She knows something she's not saying.
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“No,” she says a little too quickly. “The attorney will be there. It’s better if it’s just us. Less complicated.”
I look to my mom and then my dad. Both are watching our conversation but don't look like they want to wade in. “You sure?” I ask them as much as I ask her.
Still, they stay silent as my dad nods his head toward Lila. She shifts in her seat and moves her head up and down. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
Mom clears her throat, breaking the tension. “She’s leaving for rehab on Tuesday. Let’s focus on that, Jonah. This is just part of the process. Our hope is, after talking to the attorney, it is one more loose end to tie up before leaving. She goes in, answers their questions, and we all go on about our lives."
“Right,” I mutter, glancing at Lila one last time. She looks down, her fingers picking at a loose thread on her sweatshirt.
“I’ve got to grab some things from my room,” I say, pushing off the wall. “I’m heading back out.”
Mom calls after me, but I wave her off. My mind races as I head to the back of my condo. Something’s off. Lila’s hiding something, and whatever it is, it’s got her spooked.
But if she doesn't want to share it, then there is nothing I can do about it. This is her battle to fight.
The thought twists in my gut as I grab a change of clothes and my toiletries. Why does it seem like every time we are about to see light at the end of the tunnel, something else comes up?
When I step back into the living room, Lila looks up briefly, but her eyes don’t linger. “Good luck tomorrow,” I say, my voice even. “And if you need me?—”
“I won’t,” she interrupts, forcing a weak smile. “But thanks.”
The drive to Harper’s feels longer than usual. The city lights blur past as my thoughts churn. By the time I pull into her driveway, the tension in my neck and shoulders feels unbearable. I grab my bag and head inside. The familiar warmth of her place instantly reduces my anxiety by several degrees.
When she opens the door, her smile is like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. “Hey,” she says softly, stepping aside to let me in.
“Hey,” I reply, setting my bag down and pulling her into a hug before she can say anything else. She doesn’t ask, doesn’t push—just holds me, letting the chaos of the day melt away in her arms. For the first time all day, I feel like I can breathe.
“Before I left to meet you for dinner, I turned the pool heater on. I was thinking we could both use a warm soak to unwind. It’s sitting at a glorious ninety-five degrees. Care to join me?”
I hesitate, caught off guard by how easily she reads me. I let go of my tight embrace and pull her away a little so I can look into her beautiful, wise eyes. "How do you always seem to know exactly what I need?"
"Call it female intuition. So, is that a yes?"
"No. It's a 'hell, yes.'"
"Great. Well, don't just stand there. Get ready. I'm going to throw on my suit. I'll meet you out there."
When I walk out, she’s standing at the end of the pool, dipping her toe in. Her dirty blonde hair is loose, tumbling over her shoulders in soft waves. She’s already changed into a sleek black swimsuit with a loose cover-up tied at her waist.
"I grabbed us a couple of cold beers," she says, offering a Blue Moon to me as I walk out.
“Look at you, solving all my problems. You're fast and on top of it,” I say, taking the bottle.
She grins, tilting her head. “I like being on top, but I prefer to take it slow,” she says with a wink. I love it when Flirty Nurse comes out.
"Mmm. Maybe we can work something out…"
"I'll hold you to that," she says as she drops her cover-up and steps into the pool. I don't like to keep a beautiful woman waiting, so I follow her in.
The water glows softly under the moonlight and blue lighting just below the surface. The steam rises from the surface like a surreal dream.
Harper puts her beer down on the edge and dives in first. Her movements are smooth and effortless as she glides to the far side. I follow suit. The hot water immediately soothes the tension in my shoulders.
“You were right,” I admit, leaning against the edge and taking a swig of my beer. “This is nice.”
“Of course I was,” she replies, smirking as she floats closer. “When am I ever wrong?”
“Want the honest answer or the charming one?”
She flicks a bit of water at me, her laughter light and easy. For a moment, the weight on my chest feels a little less crushing.
We settle into a quiet rhythm. We talk some, but neither of us goes into anything that would ruin the easy, light mood of the night.
Harper drifts closer and rests her arms on the edge beside me. She tilts her head, studying me in a way that makes it impossible to hide.
“You’ve been quiet tonight,” she says gently. “Just relaxing and recharging, or is it something more?”
I hesitate, glancing at her. “Just mellowing,” I admit. "You know how long days can be."
She raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Jonah, I’ve seen you after many a long day. You’re usually sarcastic, charming, and borderline annoying. This isn’t that.”
I let out a soft chuckle despite myself. “Guess I’m off my game.”
Her expression softens, and she floats a little closer. “Come on, really? I'll leave you alone if you say so.”
I glance down at the water, the ripples blurring my reflection. For a moment, I debate deflecting again, but the sincerity in her voice and the warmth of her gaze break something loose in my chest.
“It just feels good to be here with you. I'm just leaning into the moment.”
"That makes sense. I'm glad to know that. You have the same effect on me, by the way."
“There is something else, though."
"Feel like talking about it? It's okay if not," she says as she runs her foot up my leg.
A chill runs up my body. Damn, her touch is like a truth serum.
"Lila got a call from the attorney today,” I say finally, my voice low. “The cops want to meet with her tomorrow.”
Her brow furrows in concern. “Did she say why?”
“No,” I say, scrubbing a hand over my face. “But she’s acting weird. Like she knows something but won’t say it. And I get it—she’s scared, stressed out—but it feels like there’s more to it. I don’t know. Maybe it's nothing.”
Harper is quiet for a beat, then reaches out to place a hand on my arm. Her touch is grounding, her palm warm against my skin. “What are you going to do?”
“Nothing,” I admit, the word leaving me feeling hollow. “She told me she doesn’t want me there. It’s just her and the attorney.”
“I guess I can see why she would want to handle it alone,” Harper says. "I mean, it's probably nothing, right?" Her voice is tinged with curiosity and a hint of reassurance on my behalf.
“Yeah, maybe,” I say, but I'm still not convinced. Something about the way she was acting.
Harper shifts closer, her hand brushing against my arm. “Do you think maybe she's just ashamed?”
“Probably,” I admit, my chest tightening. “She’s got a lot going on right now, and she's leaving for rehab Tuesday. I know there is a lot of shame around addiction, and then you add the stress of this on top. It can't be easy.”
“I'm glad your parents stepped up so you don't have to,” Harper says gently. “You get to just to be there for her, which is huge. I know she appreciates it.”
Her words resonate. I wasn't consciously aware of it before she said that, but she's absolutely right. My parents being there for Lila has served a dual role. It's like they showed up for both of us.
“You're right,” I say softly, leaning in to kiss her. "You're so right. It doesn't take away the worry, but it's out of my hands, and that's okay. Lila's a big girl. Whatever demons she has to face, she will be okay because she has the support to deal with it."
I pull her in to hug her tight to me. Her skin on mine is all of the comfort I need right now.
When we pull back, she smiles, her hand still resting on my arm. “Better?”
“Getting there,” I murmur. “But don’t let it go to your head.”
She smirks, flicking a bit of water at me. “Too late.”
I look at her, the sincerity in her eyes cutting through the fog in my head. Without thinking, I lean in and kiss her. It’s not rushed or desperate, but it’s not just a simple thank you, either. It’s grounding, steadying, the kind of kiss that reminds me of everything I have right here in this moment.
When we pull back, her cheeks are flushed, but she’s smiling softly. “You’re a pretty good kisser, you know that?”
“Maybe,” I smirk, and then down and kiss her again.
"Show off."