CHAPTER 30
Harper
There’s depressing and then there’s eating mint chocolate chip ice cream alone in your apartment on a Friday while wearing mismatched socks and spiraling over a billionaire.
I recognize this fully and yet here I am, curled into the corner of my couch beneath a blanket with Beau sprawled across my legs while When Harry Met Sally plays in the background for emotional support purposes.
The apartment is unusually still tonight without Dylan here.
He’s out with friends somewhere in the East Village, immersed in the glorious chaos of being seventeen and in love with his own life.
I’m happy for him. High school is beautifully simple despite all the turmoil puberty brings. Even the heartbreaks at that age carry a strange optimism because you still believe there’s always another beginning just around the corner.
Adulthood is less forgiving.
I dig my spoon back into the pint of Ben & Jerry’s and take another bite while staring blankly at my phone sitting face down on the coffee table.
Then it buzzes… Abby.
“Mint chocolate chip,” I say by way of answering.
“What number pint are you on?” she asks without preamble.
I glance down at the container in my lap. “Halfway through the first one tonight.”
“Rookie numbers.”
“Not for long.”
There’s a beat of silence before her voice softens a bit. “And still nothing from Julian?”
“Actually…,” I begin, “I have heard from him.”
Abby gasps. “That’s great!”
“No,” I say. “No, it’s really not.”
“Why? What happened? What’d he say?”
I lean my head back against the couch cushions and stare up at the ceiling while Beau lets out a sleepy sigh. You think I’d be mollified to hear from him after a week of being radio silent. I hadn’t heard a word from him since I walked out of his home. No calls, no texts, nothing.
He’d let me go. Ghosted me. Then out of nowhere today, he texts me five times.
I let out a sigh. “He says he needs to see me once the Vipers get back today from their road trip.”
Abby goes quiet for a second. “That’s… intense… and kinda odd.”
“It’s exhausting,” I say honestly. “This whole hot-and-cold thing doesn’t fly with me. I’m done. I haven’t responded to him and I don’t intend to.”
And that’s the truth of it. If Julian had just walked away, I could’ve started stitching myself back together. But instead, he keeps pulling me emotionally toward him only to disappear again. Admittedly, I’ve read every text he’s sent but I’ve resolutely ignored each one after.
I stare down at the melting pint of ice cream in my lap. “More importantly,” I say, “I don’t trust him right now, Abby. And you know without trust, what’s left?”
The words hurt to admit out loud since I did trust him once.
“But maybe you should listen to what he has to say,” she says softly.
Anger swells within me, because I tried on more than one occasion to get him to talk to me. “He hurt me, Abby. He really hurt me and then he expects me to just forget about it because now he’s ready to talk? I mean, come on…”
Abby exhales slowly through the phone. “I know.”
“And the worst part is I still…” I stop myself before finishing the sentence.
A knock suddenly sounds at my front door. I frown and glance toward the clock. Who would be coming by now?
“Hold on,” I mutter into the phone. “Someone’s at the door.”
“You think it’s him?”
My pulse jumps hard enough to make me instantly annoyed at myself for it. “I don’t know… No, can’t be. I don’t think they’d be back in the city yet.”
I push the blanket off my legs and stand, crossing the apartment while Beau readjusts himself on the couch cushion.
Another knock sounds just as I reach the door.
“Hang on,” I tell Abby before I press one eye against the peephole.
Percy stands in the hallway outside my apartment, wearing a dark wool coat.
“Oh my God,” I whisper.
“What?” Abby asks.
I pull back from the peephole slowly. “I need to call you back.”
“Harper—”
I end the call before she can finish. Then, with trembling fingers, I unlock my front door and pull it open.
“Percy?”
“Ms. Hawthorne,” he says. “I do apologize for arriving unannounced.”
I blink, still trying to recover from the sheer surprise of finding him outside my door. “Um… what can I do for you?”
His expression changes, more subdued and conciliatory. “I would greatly appreciate it if you came with me.”
My body immediately stiffens. “Came with you where?”
“Mr. Langley would like—”
A bitter laugh escapes me, cutting him off. “No,” I say, shaking my head. “Absolutely not.”
“I understand your reticence,” Percy replies calmly, and the frustrating thing is that he sounds like he genuinely does understand. “Truly, I do.”
“Oh, I don’t think you do,” I snap at him and then immediately feel awful. I take a deep breath and let it out. “I’m sorry, Percy. My anger isn’t for you. It’s for Julian.”
“I cannot even begin to imagine,” he says sympathetically.
“And frankly, I would not be here if it weren’t for Mr. Langley’s incompetence of botching everything up with you.
” I blink in surprise at the harsh words for not only his employer but for the man who is like a son to him.
“Please know I would not be asking this of you if I didn’t know it was absolutely of the utmost importance that you come with me. Not important, but rather critical.”
I fold my arms tightly across my chest, trying to hold on to my anger because it’s safer than the alternative, letting vulnerability seep in. “Critical for him or for me?” I ask.
“Both of you,” he responds. “This is critically important for both of you.”
I eye him with skepticism, and because I’m still salty, I can’t help but say, “It seems to me the height of a man’s laziness that he can’t come himself but rather sends his butler to make apologies.”
Percy’s chin jerks inward and he looks offended.
“I am not here to do Mr. Langley’s work in winning you back, Ms. Hawthorne.
I’m here because you won’t respond to his texts and he would very much like to talk to you.
I’ve been tasked with the unenviable position of getting you to agree to see him, and we’re both banking on your empathy of my plight. ”
Okay, part of me is charmed and he must sense it because he adds on, “Please… I fear Julian will terminate me if I don’t follow through on this.”
I roll my eyes. “Come on, Percy. You and I both know you’re the most important person in his life. He couldn’t survive without you.”
“Survival, Ms. Hawthorne. You said it right there. Survival is what this is about. Please… please come with me.”
Despite my best efforts to remain unmoved, and perhaps because my curiosity gets the better of me, twenty minutes later, I’m sitting in the passenger seat of Julian’s Town Car while Manhattan slowly disappears behind us. Percy tried to get me to sit in the back seat, but I refused.
The drive unfolds mostly in silence. Not uncomfortable silence exactly. More the kind that is somehow respectful, like Percy understands I’m trying to hold myself together and has no desire to crowd me while I do it.
After crossing over the Triboro Bridge, the familiar warmth and electricity of Uptown gives way to a world that’s colder and more industrial. Warehouses. Long stretches of chain-link fencing. Freight yards with lighting that signals workers still doing their thing.
Welcome to Queens.
I glance over at Percy once or twice, thinking maybe he’ll explain where we’re going, but he remains focused on the road, both hands steady against the steering wheel.
The farther we drive, the more I begin to wonder.
“We’re nearly there,” he advises me.
Finally, Percy slows the car near a long iron fence before making a left turn through open gates.
And then I see it: St. Michael’s Cemetery. Rows and rows of tombstones stretch endlessly across rolling hills.
“Why are we here?” I ask in confusion. “Why did you bring me to a cemetery?”
Percy doesn’t answer. Instead, he drives deeper into the sanctuary until I spot a small hill up ahead.
And that’s when I spot Julian. Even from this distance I recognize his frame.
He stands alone near the top of the hill in a long black coat, silhouetted against the gray sky while a drizzle begins and rain falls softly around him. He looks completely motionless, carved into the landscape itself.
Is someone being buried tonight?
The car rolls to a stop quietly along the path below the hill.
Percy shifts the car into park but doesn’t immediately look at me. His gaze remains fixed on Julian standing alone in the rain.
Then finally he turns in his seat. “I believe,” he says gently, “it’s time.”
I stare through the windshield at Julian, confusion and dread and hurt all tangling violently together inside me.
Percy’s voice softens further. “My advice, if I may…” I glance toward him and he hands me an umbrella. “Listen… with not just your ears… but your heart too.”
I’m reeling. In a million years, I didn’t see this coming. I thought Percy was going to kidnap me straight to Julian’s home where he’d set me in front of the fireplace and apologize, then I’d be angry and rebuff him.
But I’m in a cemetery, and it’s cold and rainy, and Julian’s on a hill waiting for me.
I nod, taking the umbrella and pushing open the door.
The cemetery is practically silent except for the faintest sounds of traffic on the highway a half mile or so away.
I walk up the hill to Julian, who stands in front of a single tombstone.
His broad shoulders are slightly bowed, one hand shoved deep into the pocket of his coat while the other hangs motionless at his side.
Then finally, as my footsteps grow closer, he hears me and turns.
His eyes meet mine, and I see a million emotions in them. Relief to see me, wariness, sadness… hope. And even with all of that competing to hold my attention, when he turns to face me, I can see it’s not one tombstone, but two. Side by side.