25. Harper
TWENTY-FIVE
HARPER
For the hottest restaurant in the city, the atmosphere felt icy cold. I picked at the overpriced salad on my plate. My appetite was gone after what Wyatt admitted in the car.
I wanted to smash my plate and scream at the top of my lungs, but I knew better than to cause a scene in a public place. Besides, I wasn’t an animal. Which was more than I could say for the man sitting across from me.
“I thought you wanted the clam chowder.” It was the first Wyatt had spoken to me since we’d been led to his usual table, an intimate booth nestled deep in the corner. Everything about Salder’s screamed ostentatious, and I was regretting my decision to come somewhere so public.
Even tucked away in the corner, all eyes were trained on Wyatt and me. Hushed whispers swirled around, no doubt gossiping about Wyatt Westwood and his mystery date. I hoped that I could keep it together a little while longer, and not cause a scene.
I paused, fork midair. “And I thought you hadn’t fucked Valentina.”
Wyatt inhaled sharply. His eyes hardened as he glanced around the restaurant. “We can discuss this later,” he hissed.
The sage green walls were adorned with a mismatch of gold-plated mirrors. I could see Wyatt’s face in the large oval mirror next to me, his brow furrowed as he cut into his steak. He appeared to be a man enjoying an expensive meal, but the table shook lightly from his legs bouncing underneath the tablecloth, betraying his nerves.
I took one more bite of salad and then pushed my plate toward him. “I’ve lost my appetite.”
The waiter appeared within seconds and frowned at my barely touched plate. “Was the cobb salad not to your liking, Miss?” He glanced nervously to Wyatt, then back to me. “Perhaps I could recommend something else on the menu?”
I shook my head. “The salad is wonderful. I’m just not hungry.” I forced a smile, which seemed to appease the waiter.
“Very well, Miss. And your wagyu, Mr. Westwood?”
“Up to par, Jonathan. Thank you.”
The waiter bowed his head and disappeared across the room with my salad.
Wyatt pushed his steak around his plate. “Do you want to go home?”
“I can wait until you’re done eating.” I wasn’t in any rush to leave, knowing the massive argument we were about to have. Wyatt hadn’t just kept secrets from me – he’d lied to my face about sleeping with my enemy. Images of their naked bodies pressed up against each other kept popping into my vision. It was no wonder I’d lost my appetite.
“Mr. Westwood.” A distinguished-looking older man with salt and pepper hair appeared next to our booth. “It’s nice to have you back in the city.” He extended his hand.
Wyatt nodded. “Charles,” he said, and the two men grasped hands.
“My wife, Gina,” he said, acknowledging the copper-haired woman at his side. She looked to be at least thirty years younger than her husband, closer to my age. She smiled coyly and extended her hand to Wyatt, who dutifully shook her hand. She was gorgeous, and I felt intimidated in my casual wear, next to her couture. But I knew all of Wyatt’s smiles, and he returned the obligatory one he reserved for mingling in public. It shouldn’t have made me feel victorious, but it did.
Wyatt and the man leaned in closely and began speaking in hushed tones, leaving his wife standing alone. She extended her hand to me. “Gina.”
Not wanting to be rude, I reach out to shake her hand. “Harper.”
She had a warm handshake. “You’re all that anyone has been talking about at Salder’s today.” She whispered excitedly and leaned in closer. “And I have to say, you’re not Westwood’s usual type.”
My eyes narrowed as I prepared my retort, but Gina beat me to it. “And I approve. God, I’m so over these rich, boring trophy wives. It’s about time we had some new blood to shake things up.” She winked and pulled out a business card. “I have a feeling this may come in handy at some point in the future.” She nudged the shiny business card toward me.
The man slapped Wyatt on the shoulder and grabbed his wife’s hand. Gina gave a slight wave as they walked back to their table.
I glanced at the card on the table before sliding it into my bag, stifling a laugh. Gina Starling, Astrology words I wouldn’t be able to take back.
I was the first to break. As we turned down his street, nearing the gate, I screamed, “Stop.”
Wyatt slammed on the brakes, scanning for danger. Satisfied there wasn’t any, he turned to me puzzled.
“I’m not ready to go home yet,” I sighed.
Home. If I was being fully honest, the mansion had never felt like home. Home was Savannah, and our mismatched furniture. Home was my mom and dad, sneaking a kiss under the Christmas tree as we exchanged presents. Home was where I felt welcomed, and could be myself.
Wyatt shifted the car into park and dropped his head against the headrest.
Behind the iron bars, the mansion looked especially cold and forbidding. I remembered how excited I was to move in, and start building a life and future with the man I loved. But no matter how hard we tried, it felt like we were always backtracking. For every step forward that we took, it was another two steps back. It was rules, and rogues, and lost memories. It was my mom’s illness, and my dad’s reappearance. It was Valentina, and the Carders. And at the heart of it all, it was sacrifice.
Wyatt had given up everything to be with me. And I’d given up my dream of having a family of my own. Maybe no matter how great your intentions, you can never fully run from who you are.
Wyatt was a sasquatch. I was human. As long as Wyatt was CEO of Grandview, he’d have to mingle and schmooze as a playboy billionaire, a life filled with the Valentinas of the world. I swallowed hard, as I pushed away the thought of them naked together. She didn’t belong in this moment; she didn’t deserve to be here in the car with us.
All I’d ever wanted was a simple life. One where I could grow old with my husband, and watch my children grow up, and maybe even have children of their own.
I clutched at my belly, feeling immense loss at the dream I’d given up. My stomach cramped from the butterflies that were fluttering nervously over what I knew, deep down, needed to be done.
“Are you okay?” He sounded hesitant, like he knew what was coming.
I kept my eyes trained out the window, not trusting myself to look at him. “Do you remember the first day we met? You were stopped in this exact spot.”
“Of course I remember.” His hand rested lightly on my thigh and he gave it a gentle squeeze. “That day changed everything for me. For us.”
“It was also the last time my life felt… easy.”
“Harper.” He spoke gently. “If this is about Valentina, I know I fucked up. I should have been honest with you from the get-go. I just didn’t want to hurt you.” He took my silence as encouragement to continue. “With Valentina, it was just sex. It meant nothing. That’s why I didn’t tell you. Please. Look at me.”
I pulled my eyes away from the window and turned to him. His beautiful dark eyes were wide with concern. I shook my head. “This is not about Valentina. At least, it’s not anymore.” I stared at the large hand covering my thigh, knowing that if I didn’t get the words out, I might never.
“Yes, I was pissed off when I realized you’d lied to me. Twice. But it’s more than that. I’m tired of everything being so… hard. I don’t fit in here. No one likes me, except maybe Fiona.”
“Fiona definitely likes you,” he whispered. His lips curved upward in a sad, forced smile. “And don’t I count? I love you, Harper. I know I’ve fucked up a lot lately, but I can fix things. I know I can.” He lifted his hand to brush away the tear that had tumbled onto my cheek. “Please. Let me at least try.”
I shook my head. “There are some things that can’t be fixed, Wyatt. Like my memories. And…” I cradled my hand against my stomach, the pain of longing too great to ignore any longer. “I’m lying to myself if I say that I’m okay giving up on my dream of having a family.”
Wyatt reeled backwards as if he’d been stabbed by a dagger. “Harper…” His words choked out. “I…” His eyes shone and for a brief second, I wondered if he was about to experience human emotion. But just as quickly, they darkened to an inky black. “You know I would do anything for you. I love you. But a baby is the one thing I can’t give you.” His voice sounded strangled, and it hurt to know that I was the cause of his pain.
“I know. And that’s why,” I took a long, deep breath, “This thing between us needs to end.” The words choked out.
“This thing? You mean, falling in love with my soulmate?” He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “So what, then? I’m just supposed to forget about you, and this…” His eyes narrowed as he made air quotes, “thing between us?”
My hands fidgeted in my lap. “I don’t know how this works. All I know is that I need to learn how to live without you, one day at a time.”
“What about your dad? And the Carders? I promise I won’t stop until we take them down, and you and your family are safe. A promise is a promise.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that. Maybe we could try being friends?”
His laugh was hollow, lacking its usual warmth. “I don’t do friends.”
“Maybe you could make an exception for me,” I whispered, smiling sadly.
He leaned over, touching his forehead to mine. His hands reached across my lap, until our hands were interlaced. I knew I would miss the feeling of my tiny hand nestled in his, and regret washed over me. But I needed to start trusting myself. This was the right decision; the only decision.
“How am I supposed to live without you, now that I’ve found you?” His voice trembled.
My voice caught in my throat. “I don’t know. But we owe it to ourselves to try.”