13. Harper
HARPER
You'd think over time, every anniversary, birthday, and moment forever frozen in time would get easier.
That dragging myself away from my father after celebrating and grieving all wrapped in one would be easier.
It had been a long time since we lost them, so long that my memory had started to fail me, their smiles, laughs, the sound of their voices.
As much as I disliked feeling like every time I went back it was for grief wrapped in celebration.
It also felt like it was all I had left to remember them.
It was part of the reason I felt like I needed to step away from my father and try to make a name for myself outside of the weight of his name.
He had protected me, concealed me with a ferocity that made some people forget that he ever had a family, that he still had a daughter.
So allowing me to go by my middle name, my mother's maiden name, Lane, wasn’t a stretch to protect the only family he had left.
He had asked me all about the man I had been pictured with over the past month, and I managed to dodge or redirect the questions.
But my father’s parting words followed me on my flight back to Chicago, “My angel, you said you wanted to be on your own to figure out who you are outside of our family. But I feel you are the farthest from yourself. Some day you are going to have to decide to let your guard down and let the world see who you are as the real you. Because all of you is beautiful, my sweet girl, not just this facade or PR package you present, but all of you. Someday you will be ready to stand at my side, someday we both will be ready…” He trailed off, and I heard the pain in his voice, the past rearing its ugly head.
Then he kissed my forehead and hugged me, adding, “Promise that when the time comes… you’ll give someone the gift of knowing you.
Not just this pretty package.” He gestured to my tailored clothes and perfectly styled hair.
My armour. I brushed it off and promised I would be home for the holidays.
I felt raw and on edge during the flight that I almost went home and curled into my bed, but the look in Elliot’s eyes the day I left his penthouse, like the little boy was staring at me, pleading with me…
and then my father's words. So I went to Elliot; I decided maybe he was more than I assumed, just like Caleb had alluded to.
Maybe the chemistry, the comfort and familiarity I found in him and that I had tried so hard to ignore…
Maybe that was love. Maybe I stumbled across what my parents always wanted for their children, what my father walked away from his family's legacy to have with my mother.
So I swallowed my fear and anxiety. I pushed away the voice in my head telling me this was a mistake and I would end up being hurt, and as my driver brought me to Elliot’s and a new day started.
A day outside of our arrangement, I felt a smile play across my lips and I let the butterflies do their thing.
I thanked my driver and stepped out into the cold Chicago night. I let my eyes trail over the cityscape and then up the line of windows in the building before me, all the way to the top.
Blowing out a breath, I grabbed my bags with shaky hands and stepped in.
The night guard smiled at me with a nod as I walked past the front desk, turned and passed the general elevators.
My head was down when I heard the ping from Elliots’s private elevator, causing my head to snap up; those butterflies swarming aggressively at the thought that he couldn't wait for me to come up and meet him, that he came down to me. For me.
But that thought, those butterflies, were squashed when it wasn’t Elliot who got off the elevator. The elevator that only went to his penthouse.
It was a stunning, exotic-looking brunette with big brown eyes and perfectly polished makeup, except for her lips that looked like they once had red lipstick and now only the stain remained.
The butterflies dissolved in the bile that rose like a tsunami.
Her four-inch designer heels clicked loudly on the marbles floors, her voice felt like nails on a chalkboard as I heard her say to whoever was on the other line, “That is the second time my booty call with him was fucked up.” She was chewing loudly on gum as she continued to walk towards me, the hallway feeling like it was far too long and somehow closing in all at the same time.
She huffed a laugh and continued saying, “Last time it took over half an hour to get him to fucking cum and then the very next day I get a text saying that our arrangement was over…” My ears were ringing and my heartbeat physically hurt, “I don’t hear from him for like a month and then I get a text that says to come over but not before 12:01 am.
Isn’t that weird, but that isn’t even the strange part…
” We passed each other, her sickly sweet floral perfume invading my senses, and she didn’t even look in my direction, I didn’t hear anything else she said my heart was pounding too loudly in my ears.
I replayed what she said as I pushed the button for the elevator.
So… what… Had he been with her the night before I walked into his office and then cut things off, then the minute our arrangement was over, the minute… he had her over to…
I felt the bile rise in my throat, and I choked it down with a manic laugh. Because this is exactly what I had been worried about when getting involved with someone like Elliot Vale. I almost got into the elevator, I almost choked down everything… I almost…
But I heard my father's voice, telling me that someday I would be ready to stand by his side. Some day someone would push me to make that choice and let the world see me as me. I don’t think he meant it in this way.
I believe my father meant someone who loved me enough to give all of myself to.
But what they say about a fine line between love and hate.
I stared at the open elevator doors and then I hated myself for even considering getting in. For even considering hearing why he needed me here right after I got off the plane… right…
He knew my flight plan, knew exactly when I had landed and when I would be expected to arrive. He would have been notified when my car pulled up and when I stepped out the door, when the guard smiled at me… He fucking planned this. And I… I almost fell for his charm, for him.
The bile burned bright and loud, memories of everything that led to losing them. Memories of why my father and I were all that we had left. The reason every celebration was wrapped in guilt and grief.
I pulled my phone from my pocket, asking my driver if he could come back.
Deciding I could play this game, and Elliot had no idea who he was fucking with.
I stepped into the elevator with one foot, reached and entered the code that he gave me, the one that would alert him I was on my way up.
I kept my eyes glued to my phone as his elevator doors closed.
My driver responded he was just a block away and would be back right away.
I felt almost numb as I backed out of the elevator and watched the doors close, knowing that Elliot would see his elevator open and it would be empty.
The night guard looked surprised to see me when I walked back out to the lobby.
I said goodbye and walked back out into the Chicago night.
When my driver pulled up, I didn’t wait.
I opened the back door for myself and lifted my luggage in before I sat in the back.
He looked concerned when I asked him to take me home.
My heart raced while I waited for him to pull away from Elliot’s building.
I didn’t know how much longer I could hold everything I was feeling in.
As we headed to my home here in Chicago, I promised myself that from now on I would be true to myself, to my family and I wouldn’t hide anymore.
If I could take anything from this entire experience with Elliot, it would be that I now knew exactly what I wanted and what I would no longer tolerate.
I mentally made lists of what needed to be done, messaging my dad in the morning to let him know I would be home earlier than intended and what I needed to handle for work before leaving Chicago.
Elliot had me fooled; I had believed that there was something beneath the charm.
But what he did was intentional and cruel. Well… message received, Mr Vale.