“I just want to say goodbye,” Harper said, sighing deeply. “The car is waiting for me, and I don’t want to leave here like I did all those years ago. I want you to know that I’m not running away.”
But wasn’t that exactly what she was doing? Wasn’t going back to London, to her old life exactly the same thing as running away? Or was it different this time because Elise was the one who had said she needed a break?
“I don’t know where it all went wrong this time,” Harper went on. “I thought things were going well between us. But I guess I was wrong. Whatever I did, I want you to know that I’m sorry.” There was a thud against the door, and Elise assumed Harper had dropped her forehead to it. “I really wish we hadnever done that compatibility test. But then again, maybe this just wasn’t meant to work out.”
Elise’s heart stretched in a way that was physically painful. Why wasn’t she rushing over, throwing open the door, and pulling Harper into a kiss? Why wasn’t she muttering into Harper’s mouth that she was the one who should be sorry? I don’t care about anything else. I want you.
There had to be a reason she was cautious. There had to be a reason her feet were glued to the floor.
“I just want you to know,” Harper said, her voice so soft now that Elise wondered if she’d spoken at all. But then Harper cleared her throat. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
The words hit her like a champagne cork.
Elise swallowed so hard her throat ached, and for a terrifying second the world flipped upside down before righting itself in the most clarifying, painfully beautiful way. In fact, everything felt so clear it was like her brain and her eyes had been power-washed. For the first time in years, she could see, could think, could breathe. There was no doubt in her mind that she loved Harper too. She always had. And she needed to tell her.
Elise rounded the corner of the kitchen island so fast, she slammed her hip against the edge. “Shit!” she cursed. She bent over for a minute, grimacing in pain. The pain shot up her side like a lightning bolt, but she didn’t care. Harper could kiss it better. She could fix it.
Limping, Elise hobbled toward the door and flung it open.
“I love—”
But there was no one.
Harper was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The last time Harper had sunk into one of these stiff airport chairs, nerves had gripped her so tightly at the thought of seeing Elise that her stomach had turned to ice. This time, it wasn’t nerves; it was grief. And instead of ice, it felt like her chest was stuffed with bricks.
She glanced around Naples International Airport. It was almost midnight, and the departure lounge at her gate—British Airways flight to London Heathrow—was surprisingly empty. A bleary-eyed man in a navy suit was hunched over his laptop six seats from Harper. To her left was an exhausted-looking mom wrestling a stroller while the dad rocked the toddler to sleep. There were three teenagers sitting shoulder to shoulder, staring at the screens of their phones, and now and then a different security guard wandered past.
Harper flipped to the first page ofThe Intruderby Freida McFadden. According to a woman she’d met in the aisles of the airport bookstore, the book had her in knots. Which was why she couldn’t recommend it enough. Harper had thanked her politely for the suggestion but told her she had too many knots in her stomach already and couldn’t fathom more. Still, the woman had practically shoved the book into her arms and ushered her to the till.
She stared at the page without reading a single word. She blinked, tried again, but instead of seeing words, she saw Elise walking over red sandy dunes, head down, concentrating on her footing. She saw her lifting her gaze and catching Harper’s eye and smiling like Harper was the only person that existed. Then she saw the villa in Positano and Elise striding toward her with ascowl on her face. Then the picnic with Elise asking for the bowl of olives. The kiss on the balcony, Elise jerking her head back. And the next kiss in the garden, the way they’d barely made it through the front door with their lips sealed together.
Every memory of then, of now, spooled through Harper’s mind like the most beautiful, but heartbreaking reel. She saw everything they were, and everything they could have been. She saw Elise at the altar, wearing a pearl-white wedding dress. She saw Sunday mornings that started slowly, and Friday evenings that ended with a bottle of Pinot Noir. She saw international flights and dreamy holidays. She saw lazy Saturdays full of rom-coms on the sofa. She saw Christmas trees and Valentine’s chocolates. She saw bubble baths and tender kisses and every bickering fight and tearful makeup.
A drop of water fell onto the page.
Harper looked up at the ceiling. It wasn’t raining. The sprinklers weren’t on. There was no fire anywhere. She looked down again. Another drop. And then, to her own shock, she realized she was crying. Fat, hot tears rolled down her cheeks, smudging the ink and curling over the edges of the pages.
“I thoughtThe Intruderwas a thriller,” said a voice behind her. “People don’t usually cry when they read thrillers.”
Harper whipped her head back so fast she heard a crack and winced as pain shot up the back of her neck and down her spine. But it was fleeting, easily forgotten, because right in front of her, with her arm slung over the backrest of the airport chair, was none other than Elise.
“What…what are you doing here?” Harper choked out.
Elise unsuccessfully tried to smooth down a few flyaway curls. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and she was also breathing a little too hard, like she’d been running. Maybe she had torn through Naples International, dodging duty-free perfume clouds and shooting past the few tourists still awake at this hour. Maybeshe’d bought a plane ticket just to get through the boarding gate to see Harper.
“I think you know why I’m here,” Elise said, tilting her head to the side. Under the harsh fluorescent lights, her eyes looked bluer than ever. Harper nearly reached over and touched the feathery edge of her eyebrow.
“I do?” she asked, frowning slightly.
Elise nodded. “Yes, you do.”
“Well, I’d like you to spell it out for me, please,” Harper said, teasing, playing, doing everything in her power not to smile with every single one of her teeth.
Elise shifted in her seat. She was still wearing the exact same outfit as before. Black jeans, a black shirt, and a pair of black Adidas Handball Spezials with white stripes. “Do you think I can come over there first?” she asked, pointing to the chair next to Harper.
