“Really?”
“Yeah, I bet if you asked about the position they’d consider you in a heartbeat.”
“You’re probably right. And I can take on some personal training clients in the meantime.”
“Exactly.”
I look around at them. “Not a word about any of this to anyone until I talk to that coach, agreed?”
There are murmurs around the group, and everyone seems to be in agreement. We do our practice, and I let it all drain out of my mind. Harper, the press, everything. I just want to concentrate on the game and my team. We need to rebuild morale. A guy’s night out.
I probably drink more than I should, and I probably let more people take photos with me than I should, but I don’t really care right now. I need some fun. I need to keep putting the drama out of my mind and let go. The night goes on, drinks are heavily poured, and I’m getting more sloshed by the minute. I haven’t done this in a long time and my tolerance is shit.
Oh well. Bottoms up.
Chapter 18
Harper
My phone buzzes on the coffee table, a jolt that snatches me from the lull of a lazy Sunday afternoon. I expect it's Taylor, maybe a meme that'll make me roll my eyes and laugh, but instead, there's a text that doesn't fit the usual banter.
Taylor:We need to talk, but I can’t meet in person for a while. So here it goes… I think we should end things. It's for the best.
Confusion clouds my thoughts as I re-read the words. The 'we need to talk' cliché? Via text? My heart hammers against my ribs, each beat echoing the same word: Why?
I try to swallow, but my throat's gone dry. Betrayal twists my insides as I sit there, phone clutched in a vice grip. The room feels colder, or maybe that's just the chill wrapping around mysuddenly fragile heart. I fumble with the phone, my fingertips numb, and the screen blurs through a sheen of unshed tears.
Harper:What... why?
The only answer is the deafening silence of the apartment. So, I do what anyone would do when they are frantically looking for answers: Search social media.
My thumb acts on its own accord, scrolling numbly through my feed while my mind is still back at the wreckage of my just-crumbled relationship. Post after post blurs by, a meaningless stream until one video jerks me to a stop. The thumping bass spills from my phone's tiny speaker, an unwelcome invasion into my quiet room.
It's Taylor, unmistakable even in the grainy club light, his arm slung carelessly around a girl with a laugh too loud to be genuine. The caption, "Night out with the boys," feels like a punch in the gut. My heart isn't just sinking; it's plummeting into an abyss as I watch him lean in to whisper something into another girl's ear. Their smiles are sharp knives, and I'm bleeding out with every beat of the music.
Tears well up, spilling over and tracing cold paths down my cheeks. I wipe them away furiously, not wanting to give Taylor the satisfaction, even though he can't see me. I've been reduced to a silent viewer of my own humiliation, courtesy of a screen that's suddenly too bright.
Anger curls in my chest, but it's tangled up with betrayal that slices through me. How could he move on so fast? Were we ever real to him? And sadness, oh, the sadness—it makes my body heavy, my breaths shallow. The images burn behind my eyelids, and I'm caught between wanting to forget and not being able to look away.
Every beat of the club music, every cheer, the clinking of glasses—it all echoes the rhythm of deceit. I thought I knew him, thought what we had was special. But there he is, living it up at some night club.
I want to scream, to call him out, and demand answers. But the silence of my room wraps around me, a reminder that I'm alone in this.
The need for human connection, for a voice that isn't steeped in sterile digital breakups, seizes me. I dial Jordan, and my hands are shaking so bad, I almost drop the phone twice.Ring... Ring...
"Hey, Harper! What's up?" Jordan finally answers.
" Jor—," I choke out. "It's over. Taylor broke up with me. Over a text."
"Harper, oh my god. I'm so sorry. Are you okay? Do you want me to come over?"
"No, no. I don't know. I just..." Words fail me. I crumble into sobs.
"Okay, breathe with me, Harp. In and out, nice and slow. Just let it all out."
"Everything felt fine, and then just a simple text that we’re done. I don't understand, Jordan. How could he do this?"
"Sometimes people suck. They do things that hurt us without thinking."
