Chapter 47
FORTY-SEVEN
I stood in the doorway holding Rory, staring at the empty driveway like Harper would magically reappear. The summer air was warm, but I felt cold and empty and completely fucked.
Rory twisted in my arms, looking toward the street where she’d last seen Harper. When she didn’t see her, her little face scrunched up and she started fussing.
“I know, sweet girl,” I said, stepping back inside and shutting the door. “She’s not here.”
And it was my fault. I’d fucked everything up, and now Harper was gone, and I had no clue how to fix it.
Or if I even could.
The house felt wrong without her. Too quiet.
It was one thing when I knew she’d be home later. It was something else entirely when I realized she may never come back here except to get her stuff.
Harper had only been living here a month and a half, but the place felt like a fucking shell now. Her coffee mug from this morning was in the sink. Her sheet music was all over the kitchen table.
Her presence lingered in every object she left behind, but the room still felt empty without her.
Rory’s whimpering turned into actual crying, and she reached toward the front door. My chest got painfully tight because I knew what she wanted, but I couldn’t give it to her. I couldn’t make Harper come back.
Before today, I thought the biggest problem we’d face would be our families.
I was such a fucking idiot.
I bounced Rory, trying to calm her down, but my hands were shaking. “She’s not here,” I told her, my voice rough. “Daddy screwed up big time.”
Screwed up didn’t even come close. I’d kept a secret from her that basically confirmed every shitty thing she’d ever thought about me. I’d lied to her every day—not with words, but by not telling her something that could hurt her.
And now I’d hurt her anyway.
I dropped onto the couch and ran my free hand through my hair. The whole confrontation kept playing in my head on repeat.
I don’t know which parts of it were real.
How could she not know? You’d have to be completely coldhearted to fake loving someone. Is that what she really thought of me? That I could fake how I felt?
How could she really believe everything we’d built together was bullshit?
But then again, how could I blame her? I’d kept a huge secret from her our entire relationship.
Maybe it wouldn’t seem huge to some people.
But on a campus as small as ours—where gossip spread faster than a puck on fresh ice—there was no telling how many people Beau and Kyle had run their mouths to.
Which meant Harper had been walking around completely oblivious while other people might’ve known.
That’s what turned something relatively minor into a much bigger betrayal.
She’d trusted me with everything, and I was hiding the one thing that would make her think I was exactly who she’d always thought I was.
I was supposed to be different.
I was supposed to have changed.
Maybe I hadn’t changed as much as I thought.
Sure, I hadn’t actually made the bet. But I hadn’t told her about it either, even when I’d found out about it.
And she was right that I should have.
Rory’s cries got louder, but nothing I did helped. She wanted Harper, but Harper was gone, and it was my fault.
Fuck my pride. I needed help.
I grabbed my phone and called Liam. My voice cracked when he answered.
“I need your help.”
He didn’t ask what for or if I was okay. He simply said, “I’ll be there in ten.”
The line went dead, and I let my phone fall onto the couch next to me. Rory was still crying, grabbing at my shirt with her tiny fists. Looking down at her red, tear-streaked face made me feel like shit.
“I’m sorry,” I told her. “I’m so sorry I fucked this up.”
Those ten minutes took forever. I was grateful he’d been so close. He’d spent most of the summer back home in Meadowbrook, but he’d asked to have dinner with me tonight because he wanted to talk to me about something.
I couldn’t think about anything else once Rory’s cries turned to screams. I tried everything to calm her—rocking her, putting her in her bouncy seat, giving her a bottle she didn’t want. Nothing worked. I was about to have a meltdown and start crying with my daughter when Liam walked in.
“Jesus, Drew.” He took one look at me—probably saw the panic in my eyes—and immediately came over. “Give her to me.”
I handed Rory over, and finally she started calming down as Liam bounced her, making shushing sounds that worked when he did it, but hadn’t when I’d tried. Maybe she really did understand how much I’d fucked up and was taking it out on me.
“What happened?” he asked.
I collapsed back onto the couch. “Harper found out about that stupid bet.”
Liam’s jaw went slack with shock. “How the fuck did she find out?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t say how, and really the how doesn’t matter. She found out and now she thinks our whole relationship was a lie.”
“Fuck.” Liam settled into the chair across from me, Rory finally quiet in his arms.
“I know,” I groaned, scrubbing my hands through my hair. How the hell had everything gone to shit so quickly?
“I told her the truth about it when she asked. About how it started, how I found out, how I shut it down.” I met his eyes. “But she asked when I knew about it, and I had to tell her I’d known the whole time we were together.”
“Shit.”
“She trusted me completely,” I said. “She told me things she’d never told anyone. And I was keeping this huge secret from her every day.”
“You’d thought you’d killed it. Why would you tell her when it didn’t make a difference?”
That’s how I’d justified it to myself too, but now I could see it from her perspective and it didn’t look good.
“It makes a difference to her. She doesn’t believe what we have is real.”
“Anyone who’s seen you two together can see it’s as real as it gets.”
“But how can I prove it now? Everything I say just sounds like more bullshit. She doesn’t feel like she can trust that I’ve changed at all.”
Liam didn’t say anything for a minute. Rory had fallen asleep against his shoulder, her little hand grabbing his T-shirt. She looked peaceful now. Nothing like the scared, confused baby who’d been crying for Harper.
“Drew.” Liam’s voice was firm. “Look at me.”
I did.
“The old Drew wouldn’t be sitting here freaking out about losing her. The old Drew wouldn’t have cared enough to feel guilty about keeping a secret. The old Drew would have just moved on to the next girl.”
I wanted to believe him. But all I could think about was Harper’s face and the fact that she thought everything we’d built together was fake.
“What do I do?”
“You give her space to feel what she needs to feel,” Liam said. “You don’t chase her, you don’t blow up her phone, you don’t show up wherever she is. You prove you’ve changed by handling this like an adult.”
The advice made sense. It was probably exactly what Harper needed from me.
But it didn’t feel right.
I wanted to chase her, to make sure she couldn’t forget about the way I made her feel. Except right now, I had to face facts that I made her feel betrayed, and that was like a puck to the gut.
So, I would follow Liam’s advice and give her space.
Even if it was going to kill me.
“What if she doesn’t come back?” I voiced my greatest fear.
Liam’s expression softened. “Then you’ll deal with that too. But Drew, she loves you. I’ve seen the way she looks at you. Love like that doesn’t just disappear because of one mistake.”
“One huge mistake that makes her think our whole relationship was fake.”
“One mistake that you’re owning up to instead of making bullshit excuses. That has to mean something.”
I really wanted to believe him.
But I was scared shitless that I’d just fucked up the best thing I’d ever had.
We sat there for a while without talking. The only sound was Rory breathing softly and the house was way too quiet without Harper humming in the kitchen or practicing violin. Her absence was deafening.
“I’m staying tonight,” Liam said finally, carefully moving Rory to her Pack ’n Play without waking her. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”
I wanted to argue, but honestly, I didn’t want to be alone.
Not tonight.
“Thanks,” I said.
He nodded toward the stairs. “I’m gonna grab a shower since I was at the gym when you called me, and then we can order some food.
” He headed for the stairs, then stopped.
“Drew? For what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing today.
Telling her the truth, I mean. I think most guys would’ve made excuses, but you didn’t.
You owned it. The old you wouldn’t have done that. You would’ve lashed out.”
After I heard the shower start, I went up to our room, because it would always belong to her whether she wanted it anymore or not.
Her pillow still smelled like her shampoo, and her sheet music was on the nightstand where she’d set it after practicing yesterday.
A scrunchie was next to the lamp, and her phone charger was still plugged in on her side of the bed.
I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the empty space where Harper should have been. Tomorrow I’d have to go to work and act like everything was fine. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to pull it off.
I’d never felt so broken before.
The worst part was knowing that Harper thought everything we’d shared was fake. Every time I’d told her I loved her, every vulnerable moment between us, every conversation about our future—she probably thought it was all part of some long con.
How could I prove that what I felt for her was real when she had every reason not to believe me?
Because it had been real.
Every fucking second of it.
Everything between us—the way she’d fit perfectly in my arms, the way she’d made me want to be a better man, the way she’d become part of my family without even trying—all of it had been the most real thing I’d ever experienced.
But Harper didn’t believe that anymore.
And I had no fucking clue how to convince her.