Chapter 35 – Harper
THIRTY-FIVE
HARPER
Sixteen days until Project Ruin Jeremy Vaughn
Wes
Musical memory for future reference:
My Heart Will Go On - Celine Dion
This is what I’m listening to on repeat.
You're so dramatic.
You're crazy about me.
That I am. 16 days.
An eternity.
Fourteen days until Project Ruin Jeremy Vaughn
My phone pings with a message, and I grab it. Ava sent a screenshot to the group chat, showing a photo of me carrying a large cardboard box from the house to my car that is on the homepage of a popular gossip website, with Wes and Harper Already Over? in big, bold letters.
Jules
The plan is in action!!!!!
Because I’m a masochist, I search for the article, finding it quickly before skimming. It’s mostly speculation and a few nuggets of information from “anonymous sources,” those sources being Leo, but there isn't much actual news. Probably because there really isn’t much to know, but this is all part of convincing Jeremy I’m playing nice in his threat.
But then I see it, a quote from Holden’s former assistant , commenting on me . “She’s toxic and pitted him against some of his oldest friends. It’s sad, really, that he threw everything away like this.”
My eyes roll, and I copy the quote, putting it into the group chat.
Is this chick for real? She was FIRED.
Ava
Why are you reading it? You know it’s just trash.
Because I love to torture myself. I don’t know.
Jules
How are you doing?
My friends are worried about me, that much is for sure, especially now that they know the entire story of my breakup, about how Jeremy threatened them and what I did to protect them. They were pretty angry that the real reason I gave up the designs was to save them, but in the end, they understood, knowing they’d probably do something similar for me.
Good, knowing that it’s T-minus 14 days until he gets what’s coming to him.
Ava
HELL YEAH!
The day after my meeting with Jeremy, whispers of Wes and my breakup spread through the media as planned. I was anxious nearly the entire day, as I boxed up a few of my things and made a show of lugging them to the car so photos could leak, worried that Jeremy wouldn’t think it was enough to quiet his threats. But by five, when I was slowly putting a few of my things away in the cottage behind Jules’s house, I received a text from Jeremy.
Jeremy
Good job. When can I expect the designs?
I smiled, loving that phase one of our plan worked while simultaneously fighting the urge to throw my phone at a wall. Instead, I took a deep breath in before answering.
Two weeks
It was a simple response, and part of me expected him to argue, to tell me he wants them quicker and remind me that I’m working on his clock, not mine, or threaten me again, but he didn’t. Instead, he sent a thumbs-up in what I assume I’m to interpret as an acceptance of this new deadline.
Jules
I bet you can’t wait until this is over.
You have no idea.
I mean that on so many fronts, not just because I’m excited to finally have this bullshit with Jeremy behind me, but because not waking up in bed with Wes every morning has proven to be much more of an issue than I thought it would be.
In an effort to lean into this story of a breakup and not allow for Jeremy to suspect what we’re doing, I’ve been staying at Jules’s place, something that was a hard sell for Wes. But I wasn’t risking the media whispering that maybe this was some kind of publicity stunt and it getting back to Jeremy. I’m confident in our plan and our ability to pull it off seamlessly, and I know, even if we had to enact Project Ruin Jeremy Vaughn tomorrow, it would work. But the creative in me who lives for a big reveal wants things to go as planned. Poetic justice in its purest form.
Jules
Come have breakfast with me as a distraction! Sophie is requesting it.
I smile at that text, looking at the rumpled sheets and the empty bed beside me and sighing. Then I put a pin into my dress form, stepping back to look at the progress I’ve made and make my way into Jules’s house.
Ten days until Project Ruin Jeremy Vaughn
The sound of cutting shears on thick fabric fills the room in a satisfying snip, snip, snip when my phone lets out a beep. Quickly, I drop the scissors and check the screen, smiling at the photo Wes sent me.
My design room, the cork board still essentially an FBI crime scene, but everything else is pretty much pristine.
Wes
She misses you
And I miss her. Tell her I’ll be back soon with lots of new projects to complete.
I miss you.
And I miss you more.
I don’t know why I can’t just come to you at night or why you can’t come home. Leo will blackball anyone who posts something he deems inappropriate.
I sigh, because this has been his line of questions since I left, but I’m determined to do things right.
I’m not risking it.
Nothing bad can happen.
He’s right: the private investigator contacted me yesterday at the insistence of my husband to tell me what he had found and our options for what we could do with it. There were plenty, and the PI told me Wes had instructed him I was to make the final decision on how to proceed.
I decide to take a new approach.
Just think of how hot it will be when you finally can have me.
Or I could just have you now.
Wes…
I hate this.
Ten more days.
Love you.
Thank you.
Six Days until Project Ruin Jeremy Vaughn
It’s only been four days since I’ve last spoken to Wes, but I’m starting to feel sorry for myself and missing Wes more than I anticipated, and I give in to my small pity party.
Remind me this is worth it.
Are you being serious or are you cranky?
I can’t sleep.
A call comes through, Wes’s face lighting up on my screen, and I roll over in bed, wrapped in blankets that don’t smell right. I hold my phone to my ear and don’t speak.
“Harper?”
“Hey,” I whisper into the dark. It’s strange being alone, sleeping alone, after spending so much time with Wes and living with him. I didn’t realize how much time we spent together, and without it, the days feel immeasurably longer. I thought it would be easy since I spent my entire relationship with Jeremy like this, living two separate but parallel lives, but it is anything but. I miss him. I miss us. I miss sleeping with him, and I miss talking with him, walking to his music room, and hanging out when I hit a creative block.
I miss Wes.
I miss Wes because this time apart made me realize I’m in love with him. Crazy, insanely, irrevocably in love with him, and I haven’t told him.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “No. I don’t know. I miss you.”
He sighs, the sounds filling the line before he replies. “I miss you more, little wife.”
“I can’t sleep without you,” I say, my voice cracking a little.
“Do you want me to come over there?”
I weigh his question, then shake my head before answering. “No. I’m a big girl.”
There’s a long pause before he speaks again.
“I’ll stay on until you sleep,” he says gently.
“What?”
“Tell me about your day, little wife.” It’s not the first time he’s called me since I “moved out,” but he’s given me my space, and now I realize he’s doing it to try and respect the boundaries and rules I’ve set.
God. He’s so fucking good to me.
“My day?”
“We’ll talk until you fall asleep. Then we’ll only have five more days.” I smile, so fucking grateful for what I’ve found in the chaos.
And then I tell my husband about my day, but the words I really want to tell him stay stuck on the tip of my tongue.
Five Days Until Project Ruin Jeremy Vaughn
I’m weighing my options on sequins when there’s a knock on the door of the cottage. I stand, walk over, and open the door. Then I stand there, shocked as Stella Green walks in without a word, Jules and Ava following behind her.
“What are you doing here?”
“Wes sent us. Says you needed a pick-me-up,” Ava says, walking over to one of the two dress forms and taking in my work with a wide, approving smile. I would comment, but I’m still stuck on Wes sending them.
“He did?”
Stella nods. “He also sent me with this.” She digs in a bag and pulls out a crinkly blue package with a green sticky note on top.
Some late-night snack options.
Instantly, my throat feels achy, and I start to sniff, my eyes starting to water.
“Oh, oh, no, Harp!” Jules says, a bit of panic in her voice over my show of emotions.
I shake my head and wave at my eyes to distract myself from crying. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”
“You almost cried at a package of cookies,” Ava says. “That’s the literal opposite of fine.”
“No, really. I’m good.” Three sets of judging eyes glare at me, and I sigh. “I just..I miss him. Not seeing him has been harder than I expected.”
Stella’s eyes go wide. “You haven’t seen him?”
“She’s being stubborn,” Ava says with a roll of her eyes, sitting on the edge of my bed and kicking her shoes off as if she lives here.
“I’m being reasonable! What if someone catches him coming here!? Or me going there? Then all of this is for nothing!” Silence fills the small room that feels so much smaller, with four women now in it.
“Tell us what’s really happening,” Jules says in her motherly tone.
My head jerks back, and I look at her quizzically. “What?”
Ava sighs and rolls her eyes. “You’re not afraid he’ll get caught coming over here because you know just as well as I do Leo wouldn’t let that happen. So what’s really going on? Why are you punishing yourself?”
I purse my lips and shake my head to deny her, but she cuts me off.
“We’re your best friends, Harper. You don’t have to bend the truth for us.”
For a moment, I contemplate continuing to say I’m fine, but with their discerning eyes on me, I can’t.
“I think... I think I needed this time.”
“Why?”
“To prove to myself I can,” I admit. When Ava looks at me confused, I elaborate. “I’ve never been alone. At least, not in the past four years. Shouldn’t I be on my own for a bit before I commit to forever? I was with Jeremy for so long, then right after I married Wes. I’m…”
“You’re punishing yourself by trying to prove you can be single,” Ava says, irritated by the idea and rolling her eyes. “Jesus, Harper. You’re so thick-skulled sometimes.”
“What? It’s a valid concern. I’ve never… been alone!”
“That’s a lie,” Jules says.
“Excuse me?”
“You were alone almost your entire relationship with Jeremy, you just didn’t want to admit it. You’ve been more yourself in the last two months than we’ve seen you be in years. You lost yourself when you started dating Jeremy, but I think every time you did something to get back at him, you stole a bit of it back. I think being loved the way you deserve had something to do with that, but it’s just the cherry on top.”
I sit there taking in her words and realizing the truth of them. “I love him,” I whisper.
“No shit,” Ava says.
“I haven’t told him. I…I’m scared.” I expect my friends to interrupt or ask why, but they don’t, and their silence emboldens me. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in love before. Not the way you fell with Jaime or you with Nate.” Ava and Jules smile at me. “What happens if he doesn’t feel it too?”
Now, Ava interrupts me with a scoff. “God, the man has been in love with you for years,” she says.
“I don’t?—”
“Trust me, they’re right,” Stella says. “He’s been waiting for you. When you’re ready and you finally tell him, he’s going to run a marathon.” I laugh at the idea of that. “He’s miserable, you know. Spending almost every day at my house, making me miserable.”.
“Really?” I ask, a bit of guilt moving through me.
She nods. “Okay, now that we’ve covered what an idiot you’re being so you can call your husband up and tell him to come fuck you into a good mood, can we please talk about this gorgeous dress?”
I smile, more than happy to change the subject.
“Seriously, it’s so pretty,” Jules says, taking Ava’s hint.
“Willa’s excited,” Stella says, and I smile.
“Really?”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Don’t play coy, Harper. It’s not a good look on you. Of course, she is. She’s excited to be a part of this, for one, but also because of what you’re doing for her.” She gives me wide eyes, and excitement takes over the leftover melancholy.
“I can’t believe this is my life,” I whisper. “That all of the mess led to…this.” I wave my hand at the dress forms.
“You deserve it and so much more,” Stella says, reaching over and holding my hand, looking into my eyes.
“Stop, you’re going to make me cry,” Ava says, then starts waving at her face at the same time Stella’s eyes well up.
“Okay, enough of this,” I say with a laugh, pulling away as my own eyes start to water at the community and support system I’ve built for myself. “We should go get lunch.”
Lunch goes fine, with paparazzi screaming at us as we enter and leave, but ignoring them all the same. When I get home, Stella sends me a copy of the article Fan Magazine is publishing tomorrow to announce their pregnancy, and I cry, both with relief that they made it through this and joy that this woman I now call one of my good friends is getting her well-earned happily ever after.
I spend the rest of the day working, pinning, and sewing, completely losing track of time. It’s late when the doorknob of the cottage turns, my heart jumping to my chest. I locked the door, but it seems somehow someone is getting in. Maybe a paparazzi? Some stalker? Fucking Jeremy ? My mind skips right past any reasonable answers in my exhausted state and moves to the most dangerous ones, obviously.
I reach for my phone to call for help, assuming there must be some creep breaking in. I’m in the process of unlocking my screen, the fucking face recognition failing me at the worst time, when the door cracks open and a familiar face steps in, making my entire body relax.
“Jesus Christ, Wes! You scared the shit out of me!” I say, grabbing a pillow I had planned to use to defend myself and throwing it at his head.
“Hey, little wife.”
Something in me snaps, then, my throat getting tight as I run the few steps to him and jump into him. He catches me, lifting me up as I wrap my legs around his hips and press my lips to his. When the kiss breaks, I press my forehead to his with a wide smile and watery eyes.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m tired of not spending the night with my wife.”
I pull back and look at him quizzically. “Did the girls call you?”
His face mirrors mine, and he shakes his head. “No? Why?”
I think of our conversation earlier and shake my head. “No reason.”
He moves toward the door with me in his arms because I’m sure as hell not letting go, then closes and locks it behind him. I breathe him in, and as I do, a calm washes over me, the way it always does when my husband is near. God, I missed this. It’s further confirmation that I’m well past falling and deeply in love with this man. He moves us to the bed, sitting down with me in his lap, and I lean back to take him in. He looks exactly like he did two weeks ago, but more tired, the same as I do, I’m sure.
My thumb brushes over the scruff on his cheekbone, and my heart starts to pound nervously as I decide it’s time.
“Hey, Wes?” I ask gently.
One hand moves from where he’s holding my waist to shift my hair back over my shoulder. “Yeah?”
“I love you,” I whisper.
His hand pauses halfway before his eyes shift to stare at me. A million things run through my mind, ways to cover up or rush past what I just said, but I realize there’s no point. I love Wes Holden. I have for some time, and the only thing I regret is being too scared to jump in sooner.
Then, his eyes close, a deep sigh leaving his body as his forehead moves to mine. “Thank God,” he whispers. I let out a small laugh.
“What?”
“I’ve been waiting for this moment, Harper.”
“Wes—”
“Do you know how hard it is to keep that in every day?” His hands go to my jaw as he looks into my eyes. “Do you know how hard it is not to tell you how much I love you every fucking moment of every single day?” My eyes water as he stares at me. “I told you I’d wait forever, but I’m glad I don’t have to.” He echoes words he told me weeks ago, a time that feels almost like another lifetime.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I whisper.
“Me too.”
We sit for a moment like that before I realize I didn’t hear a car pull up. “How did you get here?”
His smile widens. “Took a cab. I’m going to leave early and run the two miles home. No car, no evidence.”
I shake my head. “You’re crazy, you know that?”
“I’m going crazy without you, that’s for sure.”
“It's only been two weeks, Wes,” I say in a breathy laugh.
“Two weeks without you in my bed, without you in my house? Might as well be a fucking eternity,” he says against my skin.
“We’re almost done,” I whisper, trying to pull him even closer.
“Can’t it be Saturday already?” he asks. I laugh and push a hand through his hair gently before leaning back and pressing my lips to his.
“We’re almost there,” I reassure him.
“We should have just risked it,” he says, and I shake my head.
“I needed this,” I confess nervously. “I think I needed this time to myself and to see this plan through.”
He sighs, breath moving across my skin before moving up to look at me. “I know.” His hand moves through my hair, pushing it back in a way I missed so damned much. “But it sure would have been easier if you just let me take over and destroy him,” he grumbles, and I smile wide.
“Stop pouting. You’re here now,” I say, my hand moving up his chest and around his neck. “Let’s take advantage of it while we can.”
And we sure do.
Three Days Until Project Ruin Jeremy Vaughn
“Look what Leo sent me,” Wes says, handing me his phone as he lays in the small bed in the cottage next to me.
He’s been sneaking in every night since the other night, and I’m unendingly grateful, not just because I missed spending time with my husband but because I desperately needed sleep. It seemed my body had gotten much too used to his warm one beside me.
My brow furrows as I grab the device, a video queued up in his text exchange. I tap the screen and see a familiar restaurant, the one Wes and I went to near Jeremy’s work. Except the woman he’s kissing at the table is definitively not Clarissa.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” a voice shouts, everyone in the restaurant stilling, including Jeremy and the woman. Whoever is recording is close to where they’re sitting, and you can see the color drain out of Jeremy’s face. When the camera pans to the right, I see why: Clarissa is marching in, face red with anger. “You told me you were in New York today!”
“Clarissa, baby,” Jeremy says, standing and leaving the woman at his side looking incredibly confused. She looks kind of familiar, maybe a reality star or a popular influencer.
“Don’t you baby me! I’ve been her, remember? The other woman? I know how this works, how you work!”
I expect that to send a wash of hurt through me, knowing she’s implying how her relationship with Jeremy went, but it doesn’t.
Not anymore.
“It’s not what it looks like?—”
Clarissa reaches down, grabbing a glass of red wine and tossing it into Jeremy’s face, the deep color staining his shirt instantly. “Explain that to my dad when he fires your ass. You thought you could fuck with me? You’re playing out of your fucking league, Jeremy. You’re done .” And then she turns on her heel and marches out of the restaurant. I have to give it to her: the dramatics are top-tier.
When the video ends, I look up at Wes with a smile before he explains.
“The PI found he had a side piece, and a contact of Leo’s spilled the beans to Clarissa. They also let her know where and when to catch him in the act.”
My eyes go wide with another reminder of the breadth of Leo’s reach. “You’re kidding.”
Wes smiles and shakes his head. “Nope. Details are being kept under wraps until Saturday to the best of Leo’s ability. I thought you’d like that touch. What you have planned will wrap things up for him, but knowing he won’t even have her to fall back on is truly poetic.”
I stare at him with a smile, grabbing his phone and setting it to the side before climbing into his lap. I put a hand to either side of his face and press my lips to his.
“God, I love you.”
“You’re the mastermind, Harper. I’m just helping your vision come to life.”