Chapter 14
Harper
Idon’t feel lonely when I’m alone. I’m loneliest when I’m around other people, especially when they appear happy. It makes me either cringe at their fakeness or feel awful about the lack of genuine happiness in my own life.
Most people express outward happiness whether or not they’re truly happy. They’ve learned to put on a mask acceptable to society. I was trained as a girl to wear that mask, that smile. Nobody wants resting bitch face—or so I was told.
I reached a point where I no longer cared about my appearance. I preferred to be alone; no need to pretend.
But tonight, the silence is heavy, even with Danny breathing softly beside me. My body is tense, my mind racing.
Am I forgetting something? Am I letting my guard down?
My therapist warned me about this. She said escaping the abuse was only the beginning.
The body doesn’t forget. It pushes trauma aside to focus on survival, and as the body leaves survival mode, painful memories and feelings may resurface.
It may feel as though trauma is repeating itself—and I don’t have the strength, energy, or time for that.
I remind myself I’m safe. On my phone, I scroll through the photos I took earlier to send to my sister.
Photos of the stone fireplace, the worn plank floors, the elaborate wood paneling, the extravagant crystal chandelier, the old iron vault built into the wall.
I recall the evening with Rocco, and warmth unfurls in my chest, a rare and fragile spark of joy.
A message pops up while I’m flipping through pictures.
Reece James
Just checking in.
Sorry I didn’t text sooner. All is well. FYI, this place is not a cabin. It’s a country estate complete with caretakers.
Not the least bit surprised. Send me your address.
I drop him a pin of my location.
Have you heard from Daniel?
No. Not since I told him I was with you.
I’ve done some digging. You’ll have to be in SC for the divorce/custody hearings, but I’ll go with you. He may try to force you and Danny to stay.
I figured I’d inevitably have to return, and no matter how hard I try to hold on to it, that spark of joy fizzles away.
What about Aurora?
Not that I don’t appreciate Reece’s offer, but he has a pregnant girlfriend who depends on him. From what I understand, during the hockey season, he’s always with her.
I’ll figure it out. If Daniel texts you again, demanding you come home, just agree, and I’ll take you. You don’t need to tell him I’m going.
My heart clenches. I hate the thought of Reece leaving Aurora, but I also fear what Daniel will do when he realizes I’m divorcing him.
Okay. I will. Thank you.
I stare into the darkness and counter my fears of seeing Daniel with delusional fantasies of running away.
I fill my head with Hallmark-style stories of being rescued by an axe-wielding, mountain man while working on a Christmas tree farm or at a bakery.
It’s silly, but all I’ve ever had were romantic tales and TV shows to give me hope.
But I don’t want to leave New York. I like Rocco and my brother’s family. This is the outlandish fairy tale I’ve always dreamed of.
To calm my racing thoughts and get some sleep, I slip out of bed and dig through my toiletries bag in the bathroom until I find my as-needed anxiety meds. When I tip the bottle to pour one into my palm, they all spill out—nine tiny pills.
Ice runs through my veins. I grab my antidepressants and check them next. Seven. Only one week left.
I already went through a ninety-day supply?
Panic sets in. I don’t have a doctor here. I refilled my meds at the military base, and I don’t know if I can return—or if I want to. What if Daniel finds out, and I get trapped?
My thoughts and depression might worsen. Soon, I’ll be without insurance, unable to afford my meds—right when an onslaught of memories and emotions may hit, all while going through a divorce.
I can’t let that happen. I have Danny to care for. I can’t be bedridden and lost in a fog.
The lights above the sink buzz unbearably, and I slam my hand against the switch to shut them off. Trembling, I stand in the dark and take slow, deliberate breaths.
Besides Reece, who has done enough for me, there’s only one person I can turn to, one person who I know will calm this overwhelming anxiety.
I pull my phone from my hoodie pocket and text Rocco:
I need insurance. Can I please work for you?
Three dots pop up immediately.
Sugar Daddy
I can get you insurance. Did something happen?
I’m almost out of meds. I can’t go without them.
I’ll make sure you have them. Come here.
I slip quietly out of the room. He’s waiting in the hallway in gray athletic shorts and a white T-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders. His arms open, and I step into his embrace.
“You’re shaking, kitten. It’ll be okay.” He kisses the top of my head. “How many days do you have left?”
“Seven.”
“Do you have the bottles?”
“Yes.” I breathe him in. He smells faintly of cologne and clean laundry.
“I can get you in with a doctor. Anything pertinent I need to know?”
I hesitate, but ultimately, I trust he won’t use my mental health against me. If he does, then I’ll know the kind of man he is. “I have depression and anxiety.”
“Okay. I’ll take care of it.” He leans down. “Give me a kiss.”
I press my lips to his. It’s quick. Reassuring. An exchange of imaginary currency that oddly makes me feel less guilty about needing him.
It’s not that I don’t want to kiss him or don’t find him attractive, because I do. But knowing I’m giving him something—even something as small as a kiss—helps ease my reluctance to ask for help. He probably deserves more than a peck on the lips, which I wouldn’t mind either.
He straightens to his full height and runs his fingers through my hair. “Do you need me to hold you more?”
I nod. “A little.”
He holds me in his arms, and my body relaxes. I could fall asleep, my head on his chest, his fingers in my hair, if we were lying in bed.
“Did anything else happen? Did, ah, Daniel text you?” His tone drops an octave when he mentions my husband’s name.
“No, Reece did. He said I have to return to South Carolina for the divorce and custody hearings, but he’ll come with me.”
Rocco pulls back. “That might be true. I haven’t consulted a lawyer there yet, but I’ll do everything in my power to speed things up, and Alexei will accompany you.”
“He will?”
“Yes. Wherever you go, Alexei will go.”
“Why?” My brows knit together. “Is he watching me?”
“No.” He chuckles and brushes his thumb over my cheekbone. “He’s your security, and he works for the firm. I can’t be there with you. I’m in the middle of wrapping up several cases. It’ll be a while before I can hand them off, and I’d rather you were divorced sooner than later.”
“Won’t he be bored? He’s like…twenty.”
“Late twenties, and I doubt it. He reads a lot. He’s studying for the bar exam. I think you’ll get along.”
“If he’s studying, he doesn’t want a kid around,” I insist. “We’ll be fine.”
“He’ll help you with Danny and anything else you need,” Rocco says firmly. “He gets paid well, and his job is an honor.”
I tilt my head and narrow my eyes. “It’s an honor to babysit me?”
“It’s an honor to protect and care for what’s most important to me. We don’t take the security of our family lightly.”
“My brother is going,” I argue, dropping my arms to my sides.
“Harper.” His dark gaze holds mine, his jaw set. “If your divorce takes months, which it most likely will, Reece can’t stay with you. He’ll need to be home for Aurora and the baby. Alexei will go with you.”
I stare right back at him. “I don’t like being told what to do.”
Rocco smirks. “You’re not. Alexei is.”
“I enjoy being alone.”
“Then he can watch Danny so you can have time alone.”
I roll my eyes. “Why am I arguing with a lawyer?”
His smirk deepens into a full smile, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Good question.”
“Fine.” I cover a yawn with my hand. “I’m going to bed.”
“One more thing.” He draws me into his chest. “You can do anything your heart desires. Go crazy. You want to dance in the snow? Do it—just wear some boots. You want to spend every weekend here? Okay, we’ll do that.
You want to change my study into a whimsical library with fairy lights and paint it black or pink?
I’ll call a contractor. You want to bury your husband?
Tell me when. Alexei and I will bring the shovels.
” He raises my chin until our gazes connect.
“You’re not being held hostage. You’re free to do whatever you want—as long as one of us is with you. ”