Chapter 32
Harper
When I wake up, all I feel is pain.
A dull, persistent pounding behind my eyes, like someone is knocking from the inside of my skull.
I groan softly and immediately regret it.
The vibration of my throat only sharpens the ache.
The room tilts, then steadies. When I breathe in, the air smells faintly of chemical floor cleaner and something plasticky, and there’s a soft beeping somewhere to my left.
My eyes snap open.
White ceiling. Fluorescent lights dimmed low. A curtain half-drawn. Whispers brush my ears—low voices, familiar ones—and then the rustle of fabric, the scrape of a chair moving.
I blink again, trying to focus, and that’s when I realize I’m not alone.
Not even close.
My friends are all here. Beth perched on a chair with her arms crossed, eyes red like she’s been crying.
Emma watching something out the window, the bright sunlight warming her features.
Marissa sitting on the edge of the couch, fingers laced together.
Miles leaning against the wall, trying—and failing—to look relaxed.
Adler hovering near the door like he’s on security duty, talking in hushed voices with Auston.
And then I see her.
“Grandma,” I croak, my voice dry and scratchy.
Her head snaps up. “Oh, don’t you start,” she says, already on her feet and hobbling to my side. “I told you. I told you you weren’t allowed to leave before me. Haven’t I been clear enough all these years?”
Despite everything, I smile.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m okay. I promise.”
She huffs through a tight grimace, clearly not convinced, and swats my hand lightly. “You’d better be.”
And then, like my heart was saving this moment for last, I feel him.
Baptiste is sitting at my bedside, so close our arms are almost touching. His emerald eyes are fixed on me, intense yet patient, like he’s been holding his breath for hours and only just remembered how to breathe again.
“You’re awake,” he says quietly, his faint accent enveloping me in its familiar warmth.
“Yeah,” I murmur. “Still here, apparently.”
“Good.” A tired smile breaks through. “That was the goal.”
I try to sit up, wincing slightly at the movement. Before I know what’s happening, hands are everywhere—Beth adjusting my pillow, Marissa steadying my shoulder, Baptiste hovering like he might catch me, even though I’ve barely shifted my weight.
“Easy.” His voice is laced with gentle authority.
Once I’m settled in, I let my eyes rove the room again, overwhelmed in the best possible way. “What are you all still doing here?” I saw them all briefly last night, but my head was pounding so violently, the nurse gave me something to sleep.
Adler shrugs. “What, you think we’d just leave? You’re one of us now.”
“Well, actually we did go out for a few minutes and,” Beth adds, pointing to a couple of bags near the wall, “we brought supplies. Real food. And coffee. Plus a dash of emotional support.”
That’s an understatement. Flowers, teddy bears, and balloons fill the room.
“Those who couldn’t be here also sent a few things,” Marissa says as if to explain the number of gifts scattered around the room.
A large basket on a side table catches my eye. It’s filled with something—a packaging color I know too well.
My eyes widen, and I turn to Baptiste again. “You brought me a Salted Caramel Twix basket?”
“How did you know it was me?” He grins.
I give him a pointed look, and he just shakes his head.
Soft laughter bubbles out of me, the sound catching in my chest. Before I can say anything else, he presses a kiss to my temple. It’s warm and lingering, draining every ounce of tension from my body, like it’s been waiting for that exact touch.
“Aw,” Marissa exclaims. “You guys are so cute. Alice will be so mad that she missed this sweet moment.”
“And the end of our bet,” Adler chimes in.
“Excuse me?” Baptiste says, mouth falling open. “You guys bet on us too?”
“Wait. ‘Too’?” I ask, my foggy brain struggling to keep up. “What’s going on? Who bet what on who?”
“Well,” he says, turning to me. “Your grandma started a bet with her pals at Golden Age on whether or not we’d get back together.”
My jaw drops. “Grandma!”
“Hold on. What!” Beth exclaims at the same time. “Is my grandma in on it too?”
“I told you to stop wasting money with bets,” I scold my grandma, though there’s no real heat behind my words.
She raises an eyebrow at Beth. “Don’t be so dramatic, young lady. First of all, I made money on this, and if I understand correctly, you youngsters have your own bet going on.” She shrugs, adjusting her shawl. “There’s nothing wrong with a little wager.”
A few people burst into laughter, and I just pinch myself, not quite sure this is all real.
“Exactly,” James says. “It’s just for fun.”
“So, what did you bet, exactly?” Baptiste asks, his tone suspicious but amused.
“Just if you’d get back together.” He pauses. “And how long it’d take.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “All right. Who won?”
“Alice,” Emma, Beth, and Adler say at the same time.
“I got close,” Marissa says. “But I thought it’d take him a bit longer to come around.”
“Well, I didn’t have much faith,” Miles says. “This one is a nightmare when it comes to forgiving. I’m still getting heat for that time when I pinched at the blue line and left him alone on a two-on-one.”
“Oh, come on,” Baptiste groans as everyone else chuckles.
“It’s true.” Miles shrugs, a smile escaping.
“You guys have a serious gambling problem, you know that?” Baptiste continues. “You should get help.”
A chorus of protests erupts.
“Come on! It’s just a fun way to pass the time,” Adler says. “It’s innocent. And we don’t have a problem.”
“Um, what about the bet you made with Beaumont his rookie year?” Baptiste adds. “I wasn’t there, but I’ve heard stories.”
“It helped him win over his wife!” Miles shoots back. “Trust me, he’s grateful for that wager.”
Adler nods. “He owes it all to us, really.”
“Didn’t you bet on Marissa and Miles too?” Baptiste asks. “That they were secretly in love? Or how long it’d take them to realize they were more than friends?”
“Both, actually,” Auston chimes in.
“Which I won,” Emma adds, tilting her chin up proudly.
“Results are debatable,” Beth says. “I knew well before they finally got together, but I wasn’t aware there was a bet.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Marissa says, eyebrows drawn together in thought. “Maybe we do have a betting problem. There was the polar plunge too.”
Beth nods. “And the charity auction.”
They keep listing the various bets they’ve made over the years, and I have to bite my cheek to keep from laughing.
Light teasing and warmth fill the air, and I bask in the normalcy of it all—and if I’m being honest, I’m kind of looking forward to partaking in my first team wager someday. Don’t tell Grandma.
A knock sounds at the door.
At first, I think it’s a nurse or a doctor coming to check on me, but the mood shifts when two police officers in uniform enter the room.
“Good morning,” the taller one says. “I’m Detective Harris, and this is Officer Reynolds. We were hoping we could talk to you.”
“Oh. Sure,” I say, sitting up straighter and swallowing hard.
“We’ll give you the room,” Marissa mutters politely before standing and heading for the door. The others follow, but I catch Baptiste’s hand before he can leave.
“Stay, please?”
Turning to the officers, I add, “This is my boyfriend, Baptiste, and my grandmother, Glenda. I’d like them to stay, if that’s okay.”
They nod.
“The fire department identified the source of the fire,” Detective Harris begins. “It came from the corridor in front of your apartment. Someone poured gasoline on the floor and on your door, then lit it on fire.”
My stomach drops.
“My goodness,” Grandma whispers, squeezing my leg above the covers.
“Was it Victor?” I ask. “You know I have a restraining order against him, right? Victor Pike.”
Officer Reynolds nods. “We do. That’s why we’re here.”
He speaks slowly, each word carrying weight.
“We reviewed the security and traffic cameras on your street. We can clearly see a man entering your building three minutes before the fire and exiting as the flames start spreading. We couldn’t see his face, but we got the license plate. It’s registered to Victor Pike.”
“Did you arrest him?” Baptiste asks, his voice tight.
“Yes,” Officer Reynolds says. “We obtained an expedited warrant last night and arrested him at his house. His phone was seized, and it pinged off the cell tower near your apartment.”
“And this morning,” Detective Harris adds, “our team discovered video footage from a camera he had placed in your living room, which he’d been monitoring over the past few weeks.”
“What?” Baptiste nearly shouts.
“Have you noticed anything unusual in your home lately?” Officer Reynolds continues, eyes fixed on me. “Things out of place that would indicate a break-in?”
I start shaking my head, then stop. It all makes sense now.
That time when my reading glasses weren’t where they were supposed to be.
Where I always put them. A shiver crawls down my spine as I realize Victor sneaked into my apartment when I wasn’t there.
And he was filming me all this time without me knowing.
I fold my arms tight, rubbing my forearm in a self-soothing gesture. “Yes, I noticed my glasses weren’t in their usual spot. I just thought I’d misplaced them.”
“What a maniac,” Grandma mutters.
“We found the footage from that camera on the computer we seized,” the detective says calmly.
“Which means this is no longer just about the fire. Mr. Pike is being charged with felony arson, unlawful surveillance, aggravated stalking, and burglary. The prior threats and restraining order also factor heavily into the case.”
Baptiste’s jaw tightens. “So, he was watching her.”
“That’s what the evidence leads us to believe,” the detective confirms. “And that also establishes premeditation.”
Officer Reynolds adds, “The district attorney is reviewing the case for additional charges, including attempted murder and possibly reckless endangerment. We’ll know more soon, but we wanted to keep you in the loop.”
“So, he’s in a prison cell right now?” I ask, my voice trembling.
“Yes,” Detective Harris says. “And he’ll likely stay there for a very long time.”
“He’s running a scheme,” I add. “That’s why he tried to silence me.
His offshore holding, Topaz, bought several retirement homes, including Golden Age, where my grandmother lives.
The article was supposed to run tomorrow.
I have all the proof.” My gaze falls. “At least, I did. My apartment is probably toast. But I’ll gather all the evidence and build the case again. ”
Officer Reynolds exhales. “There’s nothing left of the apartments on your floor, I’m afraid.”
My chest tightens as my mind drifts to all the people in my building who suffered and lost so much because of this. Thank goodness no one got seriously hurt, or worse, but still… Photos, letters, keepsakes, memories that can never be replaced. Gone forever. All because of him.
“The entire structure is unstable for now,” Detective Harris says, jotting down notes. “But don’t worry. We’ll look into your claims right away. Victor Pike is our top priority.” He closes his notebook. “We’ll let you rest, but we’ll be in touch.”
We thank them for everything, and a few seconds after the door closes behind them, Grandma stands up.
“I think I need some fresh air,” she announces, fanning herself.
“Are you okay?” Baptiste and I ask at the same time.
She rolls her eyes. “I’m not dyin’. I just need a breather. And a coffee.”
“I’ll take you,” Baptiste says.
They step out together, and for the first time in my life, loneliness creeps in. I used to love solitude. Being in my head. Now I hate it. I can’t stand not having him beside me.
As if summoned, Baptiste opens the door and steps back in.
“The others are taking her to grab a coffee,” he says with a weak smile, settling back at my side. “Are you okay? That was a lot.”
I nod. “Honestly, I’m just glad they got him. That he won’t hurt or steal from anyone ever again.”
He shakes his head slowly, eyes blazing. “I can’t believe what he did. If I had lost you…” His voice breaks, and I stroke his hand.
“I’m okay. We’re okay.”
A shadow of a smile crosses his face. “Yeah. We are. I’m never letting you go again, Harper. I love you so much it hurts.”
“I know the feeling.” My voice is barely a whisper. “I had no idea I could care this much. Be so completely, terrifyingly in love.”
He closes the distance between us, his forehead resting against mine.
“And especially not with Mr. Celebrity,” I add.
He laughs quietly. “Oh, come on.”
“Right. How about Mr. Olympian?”
He groans. “One more chance.”
I bite my lip, smiling. “Mr. Boyfriend?”
A slow grin stretches across his face. “Good answer.”
And then he kisses me—full of relief and promise.
His lips are warm and soft against mine, mindful, reverent, and I melt into him instantly, every muscle in my body unwinding.
Finally, I let myself sink into that sense of safety.
That quiet certainty of belonging that I didn’t even know I’d been searching for.
And in that moment, despite my headache, the gash on my head, and everything I’ve been through, I can’t help but notice how happy I am. To be alive, to be surrounded by people I love. And to be lucky enough to have this man by my side. For whatever joys and hurdles life may bring.