Harper had only been living here a month and a half, but the place felt like a fucking shell now. Her coffee mug from this morning was in the sink. Her sheet music was all over the kitchen table.
Her presence lingered in every object she left behind, but the room still felt empty without her.
Rory’s whimpering turned into actual crying, and she reached toward the front door. My chest got painfully tight because I knew what she wanted, but I couldn’t give it to her. I couldn’t make Harper come back.
Before today, I thought the biggest problem we’d face would be our families.
I was such a fucking idiot.
I bounced Rory, trying to calm her down, but my hands were shaking. “She’s not here,” I told her, my voice rough. “Daddy screwed up big time.”
Screwed up didn’t even come close. I’d kept a secret from her that basically confirmed every shitty thing she’d ever thought about me. I’d lied to her every day—not with words, but by not telling her something that could hurt her.
And now I’d hurt her anyway.
I dropped onto the couch and ran my free hand through my hair. The whole confrontation kept playing in my head on repeat.
I don’t know which parts of it were real.
How could she not know? You’d have to be completely coldhearted to fake loving someone. Is that what she really thought of me? That I could fake how I felt?
How could she really believe everything we’d built together was bullshit?
But then again, how could I blame her? I’d kept a huge secret from her our entire relationship. Maybe it wouldn’t seem huge to some people. But on a campus as small as ours—where gossip spread faster than a puck on fresh ice—there was no telling how many people Beau and Kyle had run their mouths to. Which meant Harper had been walking around completely oblivious while other people might’veknown. That’s what turned something relatively minor into a much bigger betrayal. She’d trusted me with everything, and I was hiding the one thing that would make her think I was exactly who she’d always thought I was.
I was supposed to be different.
I was supposed to have changed.
Maybe I hadn’t changed as much as I thought.
Sure, I hadn’t actually made the bet. But I hadn’t told her about it either, even when I’d found out about it.
And she was right that I should have.
Rory’s cries got louder, but nothing I did helped. She wanted Harper, but Harper was gone, and it was my fault.
Fuck my pride. I needed help.
I grabbed my phone and called Liam. My voice cracked when he answered.
“I need your help.”
He didn’t ask what for or if I was okay. He simply said, “I’ll be there in ten.”
The line went dead, and I let my phone fall onto the couch next to me. Rory was still crying, grabbing at my shirt with her tiny fists. Looking down at her red, tear-streaked face made me feel like shit.
“I’m sorry,” I told her. “I’m so sorry I fucked this up.”
Those ten minutes took forever. I was grateful he’d been so close. He’d spent most of the summer back home in Meadowbrook, but he’d asked to have dinner with me tonight because he wanted to talk to me about something.
I couldn’t think about anything else once Rory’s cries turned to screams. I tried everything to calm her—rocking her, putting her in her bouncy seat, giving her a bottle she didn’t want. Nothing worked. I was about to have a meltdown and start crying with my daughter when Liam walked in.
“Jesus, Drew.” He took one look at me—probably saw the panic in my eyes—and immediately came over. “Give her to me.”
I handed Rory over, and finally she started calming down as Liam bounced her, making shushing sounds that worked when he did it, but hadn’t when I’d tried. Maybe she really did understand how much I’d fucked up and was taking it out on me.
“What happened?” he asked.
