59. Harper
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
HARPER
It’s early evening when Tyler and I pull up in front of my apartment. We’ve barely spoken a word to each other throughout the drive from the beach. All I can do is think about Felix and how much I’ve hurt him.
“Are you sure I can’t come inside and help you search for the letters?” Tyler asks from the driver’s seat.
“I want to do this on my own.”
Dad says Tyler isn’t welcome in our home. I thought he would be somewhat pleased when I accepted Tyler’s marriage proposal shortly after discovering I was pregnant, but he just looked at me like it was one hassle ticked off his to-do list.
My father hasn’t told a soul about the engagement.
No one knows other than Josh and now Felix.
Tyler and I, along with the baby, are a secret my dad is trying to hide from the world until the last second possible.
In his eyes, I’m a letdown. He always boasted to his friends and colleagues about how I was the perfect daughter who showed so much promise.
He loved showing me off and telling everyone I would be a prima ballerina .
Having a baby and being engaged is supposed to be a time of happiness. Instead, I’m the most miserable I’ve ever been in my life.
When this baby arrives, I’m going to be a good mother. I’m going to love the child with all my heart. But right now, I’m scared out of my mind.
“Call me later,” Tyler says. “Please let me know you’re okay.”
I nod and reach for the door handle, but he places a hand on my leg, holding me back.
“I know you’re going through a lot,” he speaks softly, filled with sorrow. “You’re allowed to be upset with me, baby. I deserve it. But please tell me we’ll be okay. I’m still me, Harper. I love you more than anything.”
“We’ll be okay,” I mutter. We’re having a baby together. We have to be okay.
I travel up to my apartment, calling out my father’s name when I step through the front door. He doesn’t answer. With a fire burning inside me, I search each room, assuring I’m alone before I start searching for Felix’s letters, desperate to find them, but also afraid of what it means if I do.
I’m careful as I search through my father’s bedroom, leaving everything as I find it. I check the drawers of his nightstand, the closet, the compartment beneath his bed, each time left empty-handed.
His office is next. I approach the desk, running my fingers over the polished wood. The surface is cluttered with papers. There’s a framed photograph of my parents and me when we went to Italy last summer.
I sift through the papers, realizing they’re all work-related documents. The desktop computer lights up when I accidentally bump the mouse. An email is open, catching my attention with the words Swan Lake .
I skim the contents. It’s an ongoing dispute between my father and my old ballet academy. One phrase from my dad stands out.
The donation was made with the understanding that Harper would retain the lead role in Swan Lake . You will return the donation to me immediately.
Bribing the academy. I should be shocked and devastated to discover something I’d worked so hard for wasn’t truly mine. But considering Dad’s recent behavior, I’m not surprised.
I’m numb after all that’s happened with Tyler and Felix today. This email makes perfect sense. I’d taken extensive time off from ballet due to personal reasons and had wondered why there weren’t more repercussions. It wasn’t because of my talent, as my father led me to believe.
Anger boils within me, because if bribing a company to get what he wants is how my father goes about his business, then I have no doubt he would stoop so low as to hide Felix’s letters from me.
Taking a seat, I try the desk drawer, finding it locked, which sparks me as odd since I’ve been in here many times, searching for a pen or calculator and not once has it ever been locked.
This is where he’s hiding the letters.
I storm into the kitchen, grabbing a thick knife from the utensils rack. Screw being inconspicuous. I’m going to get inside that desk, no matter what.
Running back into the office, I jam the knife into the small gap between the desk and drawer, violently wedging the blade up and down. It takes muscle and many attempts, but the desk starts to split. I continue jamming the knife until the drawer snaps free from the desk and falls to the ground.
Inside the drawer, among scattered papers and pens, there they are—Felix’s letters. A whole stack of them. There would have to be one for every day he was away.
How dare my father keep these from me.
Only a few of the envelopes are open. My guess—Dad read a couple, got the gist of my relationship with Felix, and didn’t need to read the rest.
With shaking hands, I flip through the open letters, my eyes catching on scattered lines. Pieces of Felix’s heart spilled onto the page.
I wouldn’t say the words while you were on eclipse. I planned to say them in the morning but never got the chance. I’m saying them now. I love you, Harper. When I get back to you, I’ll never stop saying the words.
It’s fucked up in here. I close my eyes and pretend I’m anywhere but Westbridge. That you’re beside me, your hand in mine, your laugh in my ear. It’s the only way I get through the day.
The nights are the worst. The silence and the loneliness.
I reach for you in the dark, but my hands close around nothing.
It destroys me every time. I keep counting down the days till I’ll see you again, but the number never seems to change.
It’s like I’m stuck in a loop, trapped in a nightmare where you don’t exist. But then I close my eyes and see you dancing.
I see you smiling at me. You are my light, Harper.
The only thing shining through this endless misery.
You always said I was a mirage. But you’re the mirage, Harper. My beautiful, scarlet mirage.
I’ll write the words a thousand times, just so you know how much I fucking love you.
I love you, Harper Winslow. I love you. I love you.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I thought I’d felt the worst of this heartbreak back in the maze with Felix, seeing how hurt he was. But my heart shatters further, into a million tiny shards as I read his letters. My tears drip onto the pages. My vision blurs to the point where I can’t read any longer.
“Harper, what on earth are you doing?”
My eyes dart up from the letters, finding my father in the office doorway. I rise to my feet, shaking furiously.
“You kept these letters from me. You knew where Felix was the whole time. You knew how upset I was over his absence.”
“I did what I needed to do to protect you and I won’t apologize,” he snaps. “I don’t know what that boy did to land himself in Westbridge, but it must have been severe. He’s dangerous and I’m not letting him anywhere near you.”
“This is all your fault! If you had just given me these letters, I wouldn’t have?—”
I can’t make myself say it because it’s a terrible realization. If I’d had these letters, I wouldn’t have been so upset over Felix’s disappearance. I wouldn’t have been too distracted to remember my contraception. I wouldn’t be pregnant. I wouldn’t be getting married.
Tyler and I would still have Felix.
“You have ruined everything,” I shout.
As I yell at my father, it feels like I’m yelling at Tyler too. I love Tyler. I know he was trying to protect me, but I’m so mad at him. Tyler could have prevented this disaster if he’d been honest.
“You’ve manipulated me. You’ve made me lose one of the most important people in my life.”
I gather each one of Felix’s letters and head for the door.
My father blocks the exit. “Where do you think you’re going, young lady?”
“Away from you. I’m not coming back.” I wedge my way past him, out of the office.
“Harper, get back here now.”
I make my escape for the front door, clutching Felix’s letters to my heart.
Not so long ago, I thought I would have Felix forever. Now, these letters are all I have left of him.