1 - Harper
Harper
The only thing more embarrassing than being divorced at twenty-three is being homeless because your high school sweetheart of an ex-husband fucked you out of your house in the prenup that was ‘nothing to worry about’. So, yeah, my Tuesday is going fantastic.
“Do you want me to figure out how to snap his golf clubs in half?”
I pause halfway through shoving a stack of folded sweaters into a cardboard box and look over my shoulder at Avery. She’s standing in the doorway with one of my houseplants tucked beneath one arm and a hammer in the other, looking entirely too eager to break something.
“No.”
“Are you sure?” She raises her eyebrows.
“Chaos, baby,” Grayson warns, walking up the stairs behind her. “I don’t think that’s the kind of help she’s looking for.”
“Let her be the judge of that.” Avery glares at him before turning back to me. “I can also throw his Xbox out the window. Oh, wait, what if we put a dead fish in the vents?”
Her eyes light up, and if my life wasn’t falling apart around me, the giddy jump she does would be hilarious. Grayson watches her with a mix of adoration and fear on his face.
“Remind me to never get on your bad side,” he says, wrapping his arm around her waist.
She reaches up and pats his cheek. “You’ve already been on my bad side.”
“And yet, there were no dead fish.”
I wish watching them be happy didn’t make me feel so damn miserable. After everything Avery has dealt with in the past year, I should be thrilled she’s found love with such an amazing guy.
They made it official the same week I asked for my divorce.
And because of that, they’ve spent months tiptoeing around me, trying not to rub their love in my face.
As much as I appreciate the effort, they’re shit at it.
Which is fine; they shouldn’t have to dim their happiness for me.
I don’t want them to, either. But also, I really don’t want them standing right here, calling each other baby while I pack up the rest of my life.
I force a smile, cutting them off. “Aves, I appreciate the offer, seriously, but I just want to get the hell out of here.”
Wesley pops up the stairs behind them. “Your wish is our command.” She waltzes into the room, picks up two boxes, and heads right back out.
At least one of my friends understands the mission. Get in, and get the fuck out.
Before she heads back down the stairs, she yells over her shoulder. “Nathan’s got your books loaded. Those boxes were fucking heavy.”
Having two professional hockey players as your best friends’ boyfriends comes in handy when you’re trying to move an entire life. Nathan and Grayson have been able to do all of the heavy lifting, while the girls and I carry the small stuff.
As if reading my mind, Grayson takes the full box out of my hand while Avery scoops up a second house plant, disappearing behind its sprawling leaves as they head back down the stairs.
I exhale slowly, counting to ten in my head to try to settle the gnawing ache in my gut. It only gets worse, so I roll onto my back on the floor, sprawling out to stare at the ceiling.
It’s the same ceiling that I used to stare at in bed alone when James had some excuse to not be around.
It’s the same ceiling that I used to stare at in bed next to him when I still felt alone anyway.
I thought maybe it would feel different now.
It should feel different because everything’s changed, but lying here on the floor, it feels exactly the same.
Sad.
Lonely.
Tears prick at my eyes, but I blink them away, refusing to let one more tear fall for the life I chose to walk away from. Because I did choose this.
Well, okay, I didn’t exactly choose to be homeless, but I did choose to end my marriage.
I dig my fingertips into the floor, grounding myself in the place that used to be home, but now just feels like a shell I’ve shed and can’t fit back into.
It’s been five months since I filed the paperwork, and aside from the instantaneous relief I felt for about an hour afterward, I still haven’t figured out how to stop grieving a life I didn’t even want anymore.
I don’t love James.
That’s the hard pill to swallow because when I said my vows a year and a half ago, I meant them. And now, I don’t. I’m still trying to figure out just what to do with that. Maybe I’ll be processing it for the rest of my life. Maybe I deserve exactly that form of torture forever.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I jolt upright only to tense when I see who texted me.
Asshole: Are you almost done? I have people coming over later.
Avery changed his contact name a couple of months ago, and while I’d hardly smiled when she did it, today, it’s exactly the reminder I need about who I’m dealing with.
Me: I’ll be done when I’m done, James.
Asshole: I thought you’d be more mature about this. You signed the prenup agreeing to this. You wanted the divorce.
I almost argue back. I almost remind him how he’d promised it was fair. How he promised it would never matter. How he promised to always be there for me. But it’s pointless.
Me: Oh, fuck off.
I close the messages just in time to see an email notification flash across the top of my screen.
Elementary Teacher - Opening Available
My heart jumps, and I nearly drop the phone as I open it.
Thank you for your interest…
I stop reading.
Rejected. Again.
“Fuck,” I choke out before throwing my phone at the wall, not caring if it shatters. Everything sucks anyway.
I throw my head back, lying back down and letting the cold hardwood press into my spine.
I needed that job.
Last month, my administration told me they weren’t renewing my contract. Apparently, increasing class sizes was easier than finding room in the budget for teachers. With the school year already starting, every position I applied for had been filled.
Except for this one.
And I didn’t get it.
“Everything okay in…” Nathan’s voice sounds from the doorway before he mumbles, “Oh, um, never mind.”
I listen to his footsteps recede down the stairs and to the murmured whispers once he reaches the bottom, knowing exactly what comes next.
The footsteps on the stairs grow louder, but I don’t bother looking. I don’t have to either because two seconds later, two bodies are sprawled on the floor on either side of me.
“This is kind of nice,” Avery says, focusing on the ceiling.
“It is a great view,” Wesley adds.
I snort. “You two are insane.”
“We are? You’re the one in here studying the ceiling.” Avery pokes me, turning to wait for my reaction.
I know she’s teasing to make light of it, and usually, I’m the first one to be positive, but I guess, right now, I can’t smile through the shit.
“I didn’t get the teaching job.”
“Shit, Harp, I’m sorry.” Wesley’s hand lands on my bicep.
“They’re missing out,” Avery adds, her hand tapping once against the floor.
“Clearly, they don’t think so.” I cringe at how self-pitying I sound.
Avery sits up, whipping her head around to look at me. “Well, then they’re idiots. Fuck them.”
“It’s fine.” I tighten my hands at my side until my nails are digging into my palm.
“No, Harper. It’s not fine.” Wesley sits up too.
I focus on the ceiling, refusing to make eye contact with them because if I do, I might cry. I really don’t want to cry. Not anymore.
“Stand up,” Wesley says, using her soccer captain voice.
“That doesn’t work on me. I’m not on your team.”
The silence is telling, and I know I’m going to hate what comes next. I focus harder on the bite of my nails in my palms, trying to ignore the fact that they're both standing up, but then they grab my hands, one on each side, and yank me upright against my will.
“What the hell,” I bark while they haul me to my feet as if I weigh nothing.
I should’ve known they’d team up against me.
We’ve been best friends since my freshman year, when they were already seniors.
Somehow, despite different careers, different cities, and all the shit life has thrown at us, we’ve only gotten closer.
They both play professional soccer for the Boston Tempest. I could’ve, but I chose teaching.
I wanted to build a normal life, and a strong marriage without the strain of constant travel. Look at how amazing that turned out.
“Look at that! She can stand,” Avery cheers.
I glare at her, but she doesn’t even flinch.
“Fuck that school. You’re too good for them anyway.”
I snort because it’s a blatant lie.
She steps right in front of me. “Fuck anyone who doesn’t see how amazing you are. Anyone, Harper.”
I swallow because we both know she’s not just talking about the job anymore. My throat constricts, so I settle for nodding quickly at her.
Wesley adds, “You don’t need that job or anything–anyone–else to be valuable. We’re going to figure this out.”
My chest aches at how easily she says ‘we’ as if my problems are their problems too. It shouldn't hurt this much to hear someone say they're in my corner. But it does. Because this is what I spent years begging James for. It’s the type of dedication he could never offer.
And just like that, some of my self-pity burns into frustration because I may have asked for the divorce, but that was only after a year of asking for effort. Effort that he never bothered to put in.
“I can’t be here anymore,” I admit.
“Totally. Is there anything left in here you need?”
I look around the room, only to realize that it looks exactly the same. I’ve spent all day packing up, what feels like my entire life, into boxes, but you can’t even tell. The bed is still made, the white comforter pulled tight. The closet is still full. The decorations are still boring.
I haven’t been here since right after filing, when I’d packed up two suitcases and moved into Avery’s.
Being here, though, and realizing how little of my life and personality was even on display is just another reminder I’m doing the right thing.
The home I was trying to make with James never existed, and I couldn’t spend my entire life pretending it did.
“No. I don’t need any of this.”
I head for the door, but Avery stops me.
“Wait. Come here.”
“Aves, seriously, we’re not throwing his Xbox out the window.”
“Not that,” she says, climbing up onto the bed.
Wesley doesn’t even ask what she’s doing before joining her on the bed.
Last year she would’ve, but ever since she’s gotten together with Nathan, she’s been alive in a way I’ve never seen before.
It makes my stomach twist with happiness for them and a deep-seated jealousy I refuse to look too hard at.
“What are you guys doing? You have shoes on,” I stand motionless in the middle of the room.
Avery drags her foot across the comforter, leaving a muddy streak from her sneakers. “Exactly.”
Wesley giggles.
“You’re going to stain it,” I argue.
“Good.”
Wesley adds, “Didn’t you want a green comforter anyway?”
I did. I wanted color and warmth. James wanted white and modern.
Avery grabs Wesley’s hand and jumps, leaving distinct footprints across the fabric, and despite my mood, my lips twitch.
“See? You want to jump on this bed with us.” Avery wiggles her eyebrows.
“This is ridiculous.”
‘This is cheaper than therapy,” Wesley teases.
My lips tilt into a smile as I step toward the bed.
“Yes. Do it. Do it.” Avery chants as I climb onto the bed.
My heart beats faster as I notice the dirty footprints my shoes are leaving in their wake. A petty satisfaction courses through me.
“Okay, wait, that’s actually satisfying,” I say, grabbing their hands until I’m standing.
“Of course it is.” Avery starts jumping and almost sends us all tumbling to the floor.
Wesley and I join in, and our laughter echoes through the room.
“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” I gasp through my laughter.
We’re bumping into each other with each jump, smearing the footprints until they blur into random streaks of dirt.
“The car is loaded.” Grayson’s voice sounds from the stairs as he turns the corner, witnessing us in all our immature glory.
Nathan follows behind him, and they both watch us as if we’re a species of animal they’ve never seen before.
It makes us all laugh harder, and eventually we have to stop because apparently three grown women can't jump on a queen-sized bed for more than a few seconds without nearly killing themselves.
I sit down and climb off first, brushing my hair from my face. “We were just taking a minute,” I say as my way of explanation.
Wesley adds, “We needed to have some fun.”
Avery finishes, “We needed to ruin this ugly fucking comforter that James made her buy.”
Grayson nods as if Avery’s bluntness is the most ordinary thing in the world while we all chuckle again, catching our breath.
“Okay, let’s go,” I say, leading the charge down the stairs.
“Anything else?” Nathan asks.
I look around the living room, the kitchen, and then the entryway. I take in the place I thought I’d one day raise kids in, and the pang in my chest is hardly noticeable. This isn’t where I belong anymore.
“Nothing in here is mine anymore.”
And for the first time, that doesn’t feel entirely like a loss.
They all funnel out the front door and onto the sidewalk. I hold the front door in my hand, silently saying goodbye.
The chilly fall air hits my face, and I breathe it in deeply.
I am divorced, homeless, jobless, and maybe a little aimless.
But above it all, there’s something I’ve been desperate to feel for the first time in more years than I care to admit.
Free. I’m fucking free.
And maybe I could revel in that a little more if there wasn’t one huge problem hanging over my head.
How the hell am I supposed to start over and afford a place to live without a job?