41. Harper
HARPER
Morning light filters through the window, highlighting the tangled sheets on the bed and the almost white streaks in Elliot’s hair from the summer spent enjoying our time together.
He has been consistent in planning real people dates for us, and we've even sprinkled in a couple of ridiculous billionaire dates, yacht included.
The air blowing past the open windows feels more like fall than late summer. Elliot is lying on his side, lazily tracing shapes on my hip as I scroll through an article an associate sent me.
A sound that is close to a growl escapes me, my annoyance bubbling up out. Another celebrity-like person, who made a simple mistake which resulted in a public pile-on and media-frenzy. It ended with the woman's daughter in the hospital, and yet nothing has been done.
Elliot looks up at me, saying, “You look like you are going to crush your phone. What’s got you so worked up? I thought I de-stressed you thoroughly last night and this morning.”
He kisses the exposed skin of my hip, his eyes never leaving mine.
I sigh, saying, "They're doing it again."
Elliot pulls back enough so that I know he is paying attention to me, "Who?"
I hand him my phone, and he reads the article.
I rub my fingers through his messy hair, something that I have found very calming lately, saying, "It's like no one learns anything.
We are stuck in this vicious cycle, and even when someone is hurt or worse, there is this brief moment of outrage, then people just forget and we are back in the cycle of the next juicy story. "
Elliot hums in agreement, his clear blue eyes watching me carefully.
Then I remember the journalism student we met, what we talked about at the event Elliot and I went to in New York. I blurted out, "Do you remember that student we met?"
Elliot nods.
My mind is spinning, and I don’t try to censor myself as I let the words fall out, "Journalism wasn't what killed my family." Elliot sits up beside me, giving me his full attention, and I keep talking, "People forgetting we were human beings behind the headlines did."
Elliot reaches for me, but I can feel something trying to work its way out of me. I twist and am kneeling in front of him, clutching the sheet to my chest with my right hand and flailing my left one around to highlight my brain dump. “What if…”
Elliot nods in encouragement, giving me a soft smile to let me know he is with me in whatever this crazy tirade ends up being.
“What if… There were ethical standards, resources… ohhh or training… Independent reporting reviews. Oh, scholarships… A research team, education, protection for those who need it…” I am breathing heavily with the weight of everything I am saying and what that world could look like if we could make even minor changes.
I look Elliot in the eyes, asking, “Do I sound crazy? I just feel like something needs to be done. I don’t think I have all the answers… but something should exist. Someone should do something."
Elliot doesn’t hesitate when he replies, "Then let's do something."
I laugh because that has to be crazy… right?
"I wouldn't even know where to start." I say.
But my mind is spinning with all the good we could do, all the possibilities, but when would I have the time? "I just started working with my father. I love what I am doing. Maybe I could create a foundation and just consult…"
I am lost in my head when suddenly Elliot is kneeling in front of me.
We are both tangled in the sheets, knee to knee, on my bed.
He tucks a wild piece of hair behind one of my ears, tilts my chin up so I am focused on him instead of my wild racing thoughts.
He gives me a soft smile before saying, "What if I did? "
I blink, staring at him, sure I must have misheard him, because no way did Elliot just offer to start up my wild idea.
"What?" I whispered.
"What if I ran it?" he asked.
When I don’t say anything and just continue to stare at him, blinking like a crazy person, he continues. “What if we came up with a starting point? We can build it from there. You tell me what the end goal is, what it should become.”
I continue to stare at him because he is looking at me with an almost hopeful expression, like this is really important to him, but that would mean…
"You'd leave Northwell?" I blurted out, “I could never ask you to do that.”
"You didn't ask me to." He replies without hesitation.
I feel tears prick the back of my eyes as my heart swells. Because I believe him, but… “Elliot.”
He kisses my forehead, then nose, before pulling back, his hands still cupping my face when he says, "Maybe I am tired of being another billionaire in a boardroom coming up with ways to make more money. I hate what that does to people, to families. At what point do we not have enough…” He sighs, before saying, “Maybe I want to do something good. "
I turn my face into his hands and kiss one of his palms before looking back at him. "You guys worked so hard to build something for yourselves. I would never ask you to give that up."
Elliot gifts me with one of his dazzling smiles before saying, "You didn't, and I agree something should be done. Someone should do something, and I think that should be us."
The moment feels so immense between us, so pivotal. But all my brain can latch onto is how Elliot constantly refers to us as a pair, as a fixed formula.
"Us?" I ask, blinking back tears.
He grins. "Yes. Us."
It is in that moment, with the sun highlighting his beautiful features, his blue eyes so bright and earnest. Watching him volunteer without hesitation to walk away from prestige and title to build something that matters to me.
I realize he cares so deeply, because if it affects me, it affects him.
Because he loves me, and he has been proving it in so many ways over the last several months… and I… "I love you."
The words tumbled out of me, and Elliot froze, his eyes searching mine.
He opens his mouth, and then closes it, smiles at me then says, “You… You what? I think I need to hear that again.”
My heart is racing, but I laugh because this is so Elliot, instead of repeating myself I say, "Don't ruin this."
Elliot gifts me with a full-belly laugh before kissing me and pulling his lips back just enough to whisper, “Please?”
We are so close, our breaths tangled together like our sheets, nose to nose, eyes locked on each other. I whisper back, “I love you, Elliot.”
Elliot woops, before pulling me down onto the bed. We tumble over as he kisses my face, and then finally finds my lips. He pulls back, a megawatt smile on his face as he says, "I love you too."
He adjusts his weight so he is holding most of it on one arm, before he looks at me and says, "You know… if I knew that all it took was quitting my job… I'd have done it months ago."
I slap his chest, “Elliot.”
He kisses me again, then his eyes dart to the nightstand on his side of the bed, before coming back to me, his face more serious now. "I've been thinking about something."
“Elliot?”
"Remember the one-year plan… the contract I had drawn up before I even realized why. I thought it could be fake, just another arrangement, but it wasn’t. Somewhere deep down I knew I wanted to be engaged to you, to marry you."
I move to sit up, because this conversation is getting serious in a whole new way now, but Elliot swings up and straddles me, pinning me to the bed.
He kisses me, then says, "I don't want you to become Harper Vale."
I cock my head in question, because what is going on right now? “O.K…”
"I actually really like Harper Montgomery," he says, as if that statement answers everything, but then he continues to blow me away when he adds, "What do you think about making me Elliot Montgomery instead?"
The tears that had been pricking at the back of my eyes burst free without permission. I laugh through my tears because if this is a proposal, it is the most Elliot proposal ever… "You'd take my name?" I ask through tears.
"I'd be proud to." He says, and I can see that he absolutely means it. That he knows how hard I fought to reclaim my name, everything my family has been through.
Elliot gives me a wink, saying, “Plus, I think the world could use some more little Montgomery's.”
My mouth dropped open because we moved from him leaving Northwell and starting a foundation with me, to proposing, I think… and now… did he just ask me to have his babies?
Elliot chuckles at my reaction, then leans over, still keeping me pinned to the bed. He reaches into the bedside drawer and pulls out a small square box.
He doesn’t move, or drop down to one knee; he leans forwards giving me a deep kiss, then opens the box before pulling my left hand to his chest, kissing my ring finger and then slips the ring on.
I gaped at him, stuttering out, “Elliot, this is not how proposals work.”
He chuckles, but he has tears in his eyes when he asks, “Marry me?”
And with the morning light behind him, I see it, that future he talked about with the boy who looks just like us.
I see the man that I would choose in every lifetime, who has fought for me, stood by my side.
Who continues to prove to me he will always choose me.
I smile through the tears that are streaming down into my hairline and say the only thing that makes any sense.
"Yes."