Chapter 31 In This House We Believe in Wine, Spite & Revenge Outfits
In This House We Believe in Wine, Spite & Revenge Outfits
Harper Sinclair did not believe in wallowing.
Actually, that was a lie—she absolutely believed in wallowing.
But only for an appropriate amount of time, and only if one had a plan for wallowing recovery afterward.
And judging by the look on Emilia’s face as she sat curled up in Harper’s apartment, clutching a mug of tea like it contained the meaning of life, she had no recovery plan whatsoever.
Harper plopped down beside her on the couch, crossing her legs. “Alright. You did the responsible thing. You broke it off with the future king. Congratulations.” She clinked her wine glass against Emilia’s tea mug. “Now, time for distractions.”
Emilia made a quiet, miserable noise into her cup.
Harper sighed. “No, no. You don’t get to mope like a tragic Victorian heroine. Not in my house. We do three things when a man is a bad idea and we’re suffering for it: wine, spite, and revenge outfits.”
Emilia blinked. “Revenge outfits?”
“Yes.” Harper gestured broadly toward Emilia’s closet. “You’re going to wake up tomorrow, put on something lethal, and remind the world that you existed long before Alexander of Ill-Advised Office Romances decided to come along and ruin your life.”
Emilia huffed a laugh. “You think an outfit is going to fix this?”
“No, but looking hot while being miserable is our only option at this point,” Harper said, matter-of-fact. “Besides, the real plan is spite—your best coping mechanism.”
“I don’t think I—”
Harper grabbed her by the shoulders, deadly serious.
“You are the most brilliant woman I know. Do you know how terrifying you are in an academic debate? You have been known to write entire dissertations out of vengeance when someone underestimates you. And you are not about to let heartbreak be the one thing that takes you down.”
Emilia pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead. “Harper—”
“No.” Harper shook her head. “I refuse to let you turn into one of those sad historical footnotes. ‘Once a promising scholar, then tragically ruined by her ill-fated affair with a king.’” She shuddered. “Absolutely not. I won’t allow it.”
Emilia let out a strangled, unwilling laugh. “Oh my god.”
“That’s the spirit.” Harper clinked her glass against Emilia’s again.
“Now. We’re going to finish this wine, make terrible decisions on the internet, and tomorrow, you’re going to go out there looking like a goddess of lost causes while Alexander stares at you like a man who has made the biggest mistake of his life. ”
Emilia rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself. “You’re ridiculous.”
Harper grinned. “And yet, somehow, I’m right.”
And for the first time that night, Emilia actually believed she might survive this.