Chapter 26 #2
"It's completely fair! You did the same thing with Thomas. You tried to fix your marriage alone instead of asking for help. You tried to save him from himself instead of accepting that he was an ass who didn't deserve you. And now you're doing it again with Dad's medical bills!"
"It's not the same thing—"
"It's exactly the same thing!" Amelia's voice turns husky, roughened with emotion. "You think asking for help makes you weak. But it doesn't, Harper. It makes you human."
I'm crying now, and I hate it. Hate that they're right. Hate that I've been carrying this alone because asking for help feels like admitting I can't handle my own life.
"I just—" I swipe at my eyes. "I thought if I could just manage it myself, if I could just get through this without needing anyone—"
"Then what?" Margot asks. "Then you'd prove you're strong enough? Then you'd prove you don't need anyone? To let your ego write a check your body couldn’t cash?”
I wince at the word ‘ego.’
Was it ego? Was it my own pride getting in the way because admitting that I wanted Victor’s help, that I needed him in this visceral way, was stopping me?
Stopping me from making the same mistakes I made with Thomas?
Margot sets down on the edge of my bed. "And what about what happened to you? Have you told Victor why you and Thomas got divorced?"
I rise to my feet. “What does Thomas have to do with anything?"
"Harper." Margot leans forward. "Have you ever told him the real reason Thomas left?"
"He knows I’m divorced."
"That's not what I asked."
I start to pace the room, my heartbeat quickening. "He knows Thomas cheated."
"Does he know it was with your best friend Alanna?” Amelia asks gently. "Does he know Thomas told you that you were 'convenient'? That he never actually loved you?"
Even now the words are like a lance driving through my skin.
My relationship with Thomas has been over for a year—the divorce final as of two months ago.
And somehow the pain is fresher than ever.
Except when I think about…him.
Victor.
The vision of his face in my mind is like a balm to wounds I was once afraid would never heal.
"Why does that matter?" I demand.
"Because—" Margot's voice softens. "—because you're hopefully in love with Victor. And if you haven't told him about the worst thing that happened to you, then you're not really letting him in."
"I've let him in plenty."
"Sexually, sure. But emotionally?" Amelia shakes her head. "Harper, you're doing it again. You're keeping the hard parts to yourself."
"The hard parts are mine to keep."
"Not if you want this relationship—or any relationship—to ever work."
Amelia kneels in front of me, taking my hands.
"Harper. I'm getting married today. To a man who spent two months in Toronto working eighty-hour weeks because he's trying to make partner at his firm.
Do you know how many times my stupid little ego thought about calling it off because I was convinced he was choosing work over me? "
"That's different—"
"It's not. Declan loves me. But he also has a career he cares about.
And sometimes those things are in conflict.
And we have to figure out how to navigate that together.
" She squeezes my hands. "Victor loves you.
I saw it at Sunda dinner. I saw it in those gala photos before everything imploded.
That man is gone for you, Harper. Completely gone. "
"Then why did he fire me?"
“Because, from what you’ve told us about him, trusting people is basically impossible for him.
" Amelia pauses. "But he trusted you. And when he found out about FoodFirst, maybe it confirmed every awful thing he believes about himself—that he's unlovable, that people only want him for what he can give them, that real connection doesn't exist."
"I can't fix that."
"You don't have to fix it. You just have to show him it's not true."
"How?"
"By fighting for him. By not giving up. By proving that what you have is real, even when it's hard."
I want to argue, want to insist that it's too late, that the damage is done, that some things can't be fixed once broken.
But I think about Victor's face when he told me he loved me in that powder room.
I think about the way he held me during Thanksgiving dinner.
I think about the video game wedding memorabilia he kept in his bedroom instead of throwing it away.
And I think maybe…my sisters could be right.
"I don't know if I can," I whisper.
"Yes, you can," Margot says firmly. "You're Harper Beaumont. You survived a cheating ex-husband, built a career from scratch, and convinced Victor Kade to let people into his penthouse. You can do anything."
"That's a very generous assessment of my life."
"It's accurate." She stands, pulling me up with her. "But right now, we need to finish getting Amelia married. You can have your emotional crisis after the reception."
"Looking forward to it."
We spend the next hour transforming Amelia into a bride. Margot does her makeup—natural, glowing, perfect.
I do her hair—soft waves pinned back with vintage clips she found at the same shop as the dress.
And slowly, watching my baby sister become a wife, something shifts in my chest.
Because Amelia is brave.
She's getting married even though Declan spent two months in another city. Even though long-distance is hard. Even though there are no guarantees.
She's choosing love anyway.
And maybe I should too.
"Okay," Margot says, checking her phone. "We need to leave in ten minutes or we'll be late."
"I still can't believe Mom invited sixty-three people to a courthouse wedding," Amelia mutters, adjusting her dress.
"Sixty-five now," Mom calls from downstairs. "I added the Dubois!"
"WHO ARE THE DUBOIS?" Amelia yells back.
"NEIGHBORS! VERY NICE PEOPLE!"
We all exchange looks.
"This is going to be chaos," I say.
"Completely," Margot agrees.
"I wouldn't have it any other way," Amelia grins.
The courthouse ceremony is quick and perfect.
Declan cries. Amelia cries. The judge cries a little, which seems unprofessional but is actually very sweet.
And I stand next to my sister, holding her bouquet of grocery store flowers that somehow look elegant, and try not to think about my own wedding.
The drunk Vegas chapel. The pixelated photos. The Xbox controllers with our names engraved on them.
Victor's face when he realized we were actually married.
The way he looked at me when he said "I love you" for the first time.
The way he looked at me when he said "we're done."
I blink back tears and focus on Amelia and Declan, who are kissing now, officially married, and the small crowd in the courthouse is cheering.
Mom is crying into Dad's shoulder. Dad is crying into his handkerchief. Margot is recording everything on her phone.
And I'm standing there, watching my sister start her life with someone who loves her, and wondering if I just gave up on mine.