Chapter 19
Harper
Maya’s guest room feels like a life raft and a prison all at once. I’ve been sobbing for so long my ribs ache, and Maya’s been holding me through it all—my pregnant friend who should be resting instead of mopping up my disaster of a life.
“We’re not going to make it,” I whisper into her shoulder, the words scraping my throat raw.
“You don’t know that.”
“Six weeks until the wedding and we can’t even live together.” A fresh wave of tears comes with the admission. “He told me not to come home. Then when I was packing, he said maybe we should just cancel.”
Maya shifts, trying to get comfortable with her small bump. “He was hurt and angry. People say things—”
“He meant it.” I pull back, wiping my face with the sleeve of her borrowed sweatshirt. “You didn’t see his face, Maya. He looked... empty. Like he’d already let go.”
She brushes my hair back from my tear-stained face. “Have you eaten anything?”
“June brought pastries earlier.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
The thought of food makes my stomach turn. “How can I eat when my entire future just imploded? When the man I love can’t stand to look at me? When the whole town thinks I’m a cheater?”
“Harper, you need to—”
“He was right.” The words tumble out. “About Daniel. About everything. Nate saw it coming from the beginning and I was too stubborn, too proud to listen.”
“You were trying to build something for your future together.”
“I was trying to prove I was right.” The truth tastes bitter. “I needed to show him I could handle it, that he was being possessive and jealous. And instead I walked straight into Daniel’s trap.”
Maya’s quiet for a moment. “What exactly happened with Daniel?”
“He cornered me. Pushed me against my car. Mrs. Henderson saw at the worst possible moment.” My voice cracks. “The look on Nate’s face when he saw me this morning... like I’d confirmed every fear he’s ever had.”
“But you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Didn’t I?” I stare at the ceiling. “I went to that dinner knowing Nate was uncomfortable. I chose Daniel’s opportunity over my fiancé’s concerns. I kept choosing it, over and over.”
“For the education center.”
“For my pride.” The admission burns. “And now I’ve lost everything. Nate, the wedding, probably the center too since I can’t work with Daniel and can’t face working with Nate.”
Maya pulls me close again as a fresh round of sobs breaks through. “It’s been one day, Harper. Just one day. Things could look different tomorrow.”
But lying here in Maya’s guest room—soon to be baby room—my engagement ring still on my finger but my fiancé unable to trust me, tomorrow feels like a fantasy.
We’re not going to make it. Some damage can’t be undone, and the look in Nate’s eyes when he suggested canceling the wedding—empty, defeated, done—tells me we’ve finally broken something that can’t be fixed.
“Get some sleep,” Maya whispers. “Tomorrow we’ll figure out what to do.”
But I lie awake all night, replaying every moment, every choice that led me here. Six weeks from my wedding, and I’m sleeping in my best friend’s guest room because the man I love doesn’t trust me anymore.
Maybe never did. Maybe never will.
***
Day three at Maya's and I've graduated from sobbing to staring blankly at the wall when June bursts through the door with her laptop, a box of rage-baked brownies, and the determined expression of someone on a mission.
"Daniel Reeves. This isn't his first rodeo," she announces without preamble, setting up at Maya's kitchen table like she's getting ready for war.
"June, what are you—"
"I've been digging. That manipulative bastard has a pattern." She spins the laptop toward me. "Look at this."
I don't want to look. I want to stay in my blanket cocoon of misery. But June's practically vibrating with righteous fury, so I drag myself over.
"Business forum from two years ago," she says, pointing at the screen. "A woman in Austin warning others about an investor who targets female entrepreneurs. Same MO—investment offers, constant meetings, manufactured intimate situations."
My stomach turns. "You think it's Daniel?"
"I know it is. Look." She pulls up another page.
"Rachel Vince, tech startup. Miranda Walsh, organic cosmetics.
Lily Bernard, food blog empire. All received investment offers from Daniel Reeves.
All ended up in 'compromising' situations that destroyed their business relationships or personal lives. "
Maya reads over our shoulders, gasping. "He's a predator."
"He's a businessman who counts on women not being believed," June corrects, her voice sharp with anger. "He creates situations that look consensual, that make the women look willing. Then when things go south, who gets blamed?"
"The women," I whisper, seeing the pattern laid out so clearly.
"Rachel's business partner pulled out after rumors she was sleeping with investors for funding. Miranda's fiancé left her after photos surfaced of her and Daniel at a conference. Lily—" June pauses. "Lily tried to warn others but got sued for defamation. She had to take everything down."
"But she left breadcrumbs," Maya observes, pointing to carefully worded posts. "Reading between the lines, it's all there."
I slump in my chair. "It doesn't matter now."
"What?" June spins to face me. "Harper, this proves you were set up!"
"It proves Daniel is a creep with a pattern. It doesn't change what happened. It doesn't change that I went to that dinner despite Nate's warnings. It doesn't change what the town saw or what Nate thinks."
"But if he knew—"
"He knows Daniel cornered me. I told him that. He's still..." I trail off, unable to say the words.
"Still what?" Maya prompts gently.
"Still unable to trust me. Because I chose to go. Because I kept choosing Daniel's meetings over Nate's concerns. The pattern doesn't change that."
June slams the laptop shut. "This is bullshit. That man manipulated you, manipulated the situation, and you're blaming yourself?"
"I'm blaming myself for not listening to my fiancé. For being so stubborn I walked into a trap everyone else could see."
"Harper—"
"The damage is done, June." I stand, wrapping the blanket tighter around myself. "Daniel got what he wanted. He destroyed my relationship, my reputation, and probably the education center too. Knowing he's done it before doesn't fix any of that."
I shuffle back to the guest room, leaving June and Maya at the table with all their evidence of Daniel's pattern.
Because patterns don't matter when trust is already broken.
And ours is shattered beyond repair.
***
Day four and I've run out of everything—coffee, milk, the will to live. Maya's at the bar helping Lucas with inventory, June's at the bakery, and I can't hide in this house forever—not here, surrounded by reminders that this isn't my home.
I throw on Maya's baseball cap, sunglasses that cover half my face, and the baggiest sweatshirt I can find, praying I can get through the farmer's market without being seen.
I'm examining tomatoes at Morrison's stand, keeping my head down, when a familiar voice makes my blood freeze.
"Harper! I heard there was a misunderstanding the other night."
Daniel Reeves stands there in his pressed khakis and polo shirt, looking like he stepped out of a country club catalog. His smile is all practiced concern, but his eyes gleam with satisfaction.
"Get away from me." My voice shakes, but it's anger now, not fear.
"Now, Harper, there's no need for hostility. I'm concerned about you. This whole situation has been blown out of proportion."
"You assaulted me."
He steps closer, lowering his voice. "That's a strong word. I was making sure you got to your car safely. If Mrs. Henderson misinterpreted—"
"You pushed me against my car."
"I steadied you. You'd had wine—"
"Not even two full glasses."
His smile never wavers. "Memory can be unreliable when emotions are high."
The smugness, the calculated calm—it makes me sick. "You planned it. Just like you planned it with Rachel Vince and Miranda Walsh and—"
Something flickers in his eyes. "I'd be very careful about spreading unfounded rumors, Harper. Defamation suits can be expensive."
"Get away from her."
Nate's voice cuts through the market noise like a blade. He's standing ten feet away, and the fury radiating off him makes everyone in the vicinity stop and stare.
Daniel straightens, that practiced smile still in place. "Dr. Wilder. We're having a civil conversation in a public space."
"No, you're harassing my fiancée." Nate moves closer, and I see his fists clenched at his sides.
"Your fiancée?" Daniel's eyebrows rise. "I heard that was in question after recent events."
Nate takes another step. "Touch her again—hell, speak to her again—and I'll end you."
"Is that a threat?" Daniel pulls out his phone. "Should I call the sheriff? I'm sure he'd be interested in—"
"You assaulted her." Nate's voice is deadly quiet now, which is somehow worse than yelling.
"Prove it."
The crowd is growing. Mrs. Henderson's already there, phone out. The Morrison kids are peeking from behind their father. Half the town seems to have materialized to watch this showdown.
"This is what you wanted," I tell Daniel, my voice carrying in the sudden quiet. "An audience. Drama. Chaos."
Daniel's smile finally drops. "What I wanted was a business partnership with a talented journalist. If you interpreted professional interest as something more—"
Nate lunges. I catch his arm just in time, feeling the tremor of rage through his whole body.
"He's not worth it," I whisper. "Don't give him ammunition."
For a moment, I think Nate's going to shake me off, do something that will land him in jail and give Daniel exactly what he wants. Then he looks at me—really looks at me—and some of the fury dims.
"Stay away from her," he tells Daniel, his voice carrying across the market. "This is your only warning."
Daniel adjusts his collar, that smug smile creeping back. "I'll be in touch about the contracts, Harper. The offer still stands."