I tried to resist the agony taking hold of me. I felt like a fish flopping desperately on the shore. I was scared, and I couldn’t keep going. Time froze for a moment, and then he turned around and walked toward the door.
Weakened without realizing it, victim to my own desperation, I said, “You’re going, just like that?”
He turned, and I saw a tear on his cheek.
“What would be the use in staying? Would something change if I begged you not to destroy what we have, to fight for what you truly love?”
I couldn’t get out even one word. The feelings were there, but I couldn’t articulate them. I was crushed.
“Goodbye, Harper,” he said. “And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about what happened between us. You can relax and act like we never met. When I go out that door, I’m going to do everything I can to transform back into that shallow son of a bitch I was that Halloween years ago.”
Something cracked inside me, in my chest, the way the ice of a frozen lake cracks under your feet just before you sink in. The door opened and closed, and he disappeared.
My despair turned to rage. I cried, punched the wall, was thankful to the physical pain for taking my mind off my feelings. I fell to the floor, weary, and remained there a long time, I don’t know for how long, until it stopped. Until the emptiness lifted me up and took me away.
28
What You Don’t Know Can Hurt You
The next few days I spent shut up in the house. I didn’t have the strength to do anything.
After what my father said, I couldn’t stand to look in the mirror. All I saw there was pain, and the realization that I was still the person I’d told myself I’d left behind, the vulnerable, insecure little girl I’d never wanted to be.
I avoided my brother and sister all week. I wasn’t ready to see them, let alone to tell them I’d finally decided to work in the family business. I didn’t know how to justify changing my mind, especially so suddenly, and I didn’t know how to look sincere when I’d be lying to their face about what I really wanted.
On Sunday night, I had to drop the self-pitying act, though, because they showed up at my house with Chinese takeout and a bottle of wine.
I hardly remember anything about that night. I hardly remember what reasons I threw out to justify the ridiculous plan I’d come up with. What I do remember is the skepticism on their faces, the worry, their silence, which seemed agreed upon, as I struggled to smile, even though all I wanted to do was cry.
***
On Monday morning, I took my fanciest clothes out of the closet: a slim black dress and a tailored jacket. I pulled my hair back soberly and put on makeup. Then I went downtown to the Weston Corporation head offices.
I announced my presence in reception, and a few seconds later, they sent me to the elevator I would take upstairs to my father’s office. Alex, his secretary, shook my hand and told me to wait a few minutes. I sat on the leather sofa in the vestibule, the same one I had sat on so many times as a child. I was nervous. Alex’s phone rang, and she picked up. When she set it down, she told me I could go inside. My father was ready to see me.
As I walked through the door, my entire life compressed to a tiny, insignificant dot. My father was sitting behind his imposing desk. No hellos, no questions. He just looked me up and down and nodded. He knew why I was there, and if he was surprised, he didn’t show it. Maybe Hoyt or Hayley had already told him I was coming. Or maybe he knew me well enough to assume that after our meeting in the cemetery, I’d have no choice but to come pay mydebt.
He called Alex and she hurried in, a gentle smile on her face and respect in her eyes.
“Mr. Weston.”
“Alexandra, my daughter will start work here today. I need you to get her an access card and an office on the eighth floor. She’s going to be Dustin Hodges’s new assistant.” I almost said something, but why bother? I’d sold myself, body and soul. He went on giving instructions. “Give her one of the interns to help her settle in and tell Mrs. Daniels to show her the ropes in the department and give her a rundown of what her duties will be.”
Alex couldn’t hide her surprise.
“Of course, Mr. Weston. I’ll get right on it. Ms. Weston, it’s a pleasure to be working with you. Welcome aboard.”
“Thanks, Alex. But call me Harper, please.”
She walked out, and I attempted to follow her, but my father called out, “Wait.”
Before I could stop myself, I started babbling, “Dad, I don’t know the first thing about finance. I can’t accept a post with any real responsibility. I should be working in the mail room or running errands or something, starting from the bottom.”
Dad put some documents in his briefcase as if I weren’t there, and when my litany of doubts and worries was over, he started walking out, saying in passing, “We’re having dinner at home tonight. Bring your things over and you can have your old room back. I’ll tell the staff to have it ready for you.”
“Sure.”
In just a day, everything had changed. My surroundings lost their color, the world turned gray. The magic drained away, and all I could do was tell myself the hopes I’d harbored had never really existed. All I could do now was act—act like it didn’t hurt, act like I wasn’t utterly destroyed inside. Act like I was fine and nothing mattered. The truth was, sorrow and pain were tearing me apart, and all my ambition and determination was gone. I was an empty, soulless shell.
