37. Harper
HARPER
Coming out of the library after a long day and finding Elliot with a shiny white gift box in front of him in the sitting room had me feeling all kinds of things.
The last time I had received a gift from him, or better yet seen a box like that, was when I had packed up everything Elliot had gifted me in our month together and sent it back to him on my way out of Chicago.
A shiver ran through my body, and Elliot saw it. The soft smile he had on his face dropped, and he swallowed hard, looking down at the gift. Then, with an uncertain, almost boyish look on his face, he looked up at me and said, “This is one you won't want to return.”
I don't know why, maybe something deeply instinctual, but I felt my eyes well with tears as I made my way to Elliot and sat beside him on the couch.
He slid the box in front of me, his hand shaking slightly as he pulled it away. Suddenly nervous, I could feel my heart beating faster as I pulled the square box closer. It was big enough, and I had no idea what could actually be in there, but I definitely would never have guessed.
It felt like everything slowed down as my hands moved to take the lid off the box, and Elliot spoke softly beside me.
“After I found you outside that room, I had a feeling, so I reached out to Caleb and the guys. We all went to Blackridge.”
His voice was a soft hum, almost background noise, but I heard Blackridge and my heart raced thinking of Will, of the last time my mother went to pick him up.
Elliot continued, “I didn’t realize that Caleb shared a room with Will for some time, or that Rowan knew him well.”
My heart kicked up at the sound of my brother's name on Elliot's lips.
The lid came off, and I stared at the items in the box, my brain not catching up until it did, and a soft gasp left my lips.
“They searched through anything they kept from back then and reached out to a few of the other guys who were there at the same time…”
My hands shook as tears fell. I reached into the box, finding old pictures, articles from sports Will was a part of.
A picture of Will and me; he must have had in his room at school.
A picture of all the Northwell men, when they were just boys, and Will, with some other class mates caught my attention.
Elliot had done this for me, without knowing… he realized what that room was to me.
He reached out, his thumb brushing some tears away, even as new ones replaced them.
“I figured if you can’t go into his room to be with him, that I could bring pieces of him to you.”
At that statement, my heart felt so full and yet broken at the same time. I threw myself into his arms, nuzzling my face into his chest and let myself feel everything.
Elliot didn’t ask if I was ok, the answer was obvious. But he held me with so much care. Running his hands through my hair, whispering reassurances he was here for me. That he had me. And I believed him.
Elliot had been here almost a month, and I believed him when he said he was here for me, for the right reasons, and wasn’t going anywhere.
Once I finally got my tears under control, I pulled back slightly. The picture of the boys still in my hand, and I knew exactly what I needed to do. So I took a deep breath, put the picture back in the box with everything else, closed the lid, and stood.
Elliot looked at me with concern. I could tell he wasn’t sure this was the right thing.
So this time I reached for him. I scooped up the box in one arm and reached my free hand out to Elliot, asking, “Will you come with me?”
Without question, Elliot nodded as he stood, taking my hand in his as I guided us through the house to Will’s room. I was nervous, but the usual grief that would claw at my chest with just the thought of going into his room was missing.
We made it to Will’s door, and Elliot kissed my forehead, then brought my hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles before releasing my hand and stepping back, just enough to give me space to do this on my time, but still staying close.
The fear tried to make its presence known as my hand wrapped around the cool metal doorknob, but Elliot’s calming presence helped steady me, and for the first time since our family was forever changed, I turned the knob and pushed the door open.
The sight of Will’s room frozen in time took my breath away.
My father visited him here occasionally, and we had staff keep it clean, but stepping through the doorway felt like going back in time.
My feet moved on their own, carrying me through the room, the gift tucked in under one arm as the other hand trailed over shelves lined with awards and family pictures.
One picture of Will, Oliver and me, from that last summer we were all together, stood proudly on his dresser. The three of us sun-kissed and smiling so big that you could hardly see our eyes.
I picked up the frame, feeling so connected to Will at that moment. To the happy memories I had forgotten, because the grief had overshadowed them. I sat Elliot's gift on the dresser and moved around the room, taking everything in.
Finally, I made my way to Will’s bed, remembering how we used to share this wing and how one night when a storm was particularly loud, he had come to get me from my room, telling me he needed me, and we snuggled in this very bed telling each other stories until we both fell asleep.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding for a very long time as I sat on the edge of his bed. So many emotions hit me at once, and I knew exactly what I needed, so I called for him, and Elliot appeared in the doorway, a soft look on his face.
He studied me for a moment before coming into the room and heading straight for me. We sat in silence for a while, Elliot providing the comfort I needed without words, when a stack of notebooks caught my attention, dates in Will’s handwriting along each spine.
“Oh my god, Will’s journals.”
My hand shook as I reached out, my finger trailing over the stack. I picked one up, the oldest in the bunch, which was just before I was born. Will’s writing was similar, but chunkier, less refined.
Elliot’s large hand covered mine over the book, stealing my attention. I looked up at him, his blue eyes so kind and loving.
“Do you want me to go so you can read them?” He asked before adding, “I can go get dinner started, give you some privacy.”
I immediately shook my head no. The last thing I wanted was for Elliot to leave my side.
I swallowed hard and answered, “No… I…” I took a deep breath, knowing this is what I needed, “Can you read them to me?”
Elliot pulled me in, wrapping me in his arms, saying, “Of course, Harper, whatever you need.”
And still wrapped in his arms, Elliot read Will's first journal, which turns out my mom got for him to work through how he felt about having a baby sister, instead of the brother he asked for. I laughed and cried, but I felt parts of my heart healing.
And when my stomach grumbled loudly and Elliot and I came to an agreement that he would continue reading if I made dinner, we walked out of the room, hand in hand, with a few of Will’s journals clutched safely in Elliot's arm, and the door to Will’s room was left open.
Reading his journals became part of our routine, just as cooking from my mom's book had.
Piece by piece, Elliot was slowly putting my heart back together, something I had realized was broken long before he ever got his hands on it.