“I understood that you’re a coward.” The words come out steady, sure. “You’re still a coward. That’s why you’re here,asking me to help you lie to Harper instead of just being honest with her about what happened.”
“Nothing happened?—”
“Everything happened!” I slam my hand on the table, causing other diners to look our way. “We happened, Miles. For three months, I was in your bed and in your life and you let me believe it meant something. You encouraged me to believe it meant something.”
“I never?—”
“You did. And now you want me to help you pretend it never happened so you can keep your perfect relationship with Harper.” I shake my head. “She deserves better than that. She deserves to know the truth about who she’s dating.”
His expression hardens. “If you tell Harper about last summer, you’re a vindictive bitch. I invited you to chat because I thought we could figure something out, but it turns out you’re too immature for that.”
The insult should sting, but instead it just confirms everything I already know about him.
“If I tell Harper the truth, I’m being honest. Something you’ve never been with either of us.”
“She’ll leave me.”
“Maybe she should.”
Miles stares at me like I’ve slapped him. “You really want to destroy my relationship out of spite?”
“I want Harper to have all the information before she decides whether she wants to stay with someone who’s capable of what you did to me.” I stand up, throwing a five on the table. “That’s not spite, Miles. That’s basic human decency. You should try it sometime.”
“Piper, wait?—”
But I’m already walking away, and for the first time in over a year, I don’t look back.
Outside, the afternoon air feels crisp and clean. My hands are shaking, but not from nerves anymore. From relief.
From finally, finally seeing Miles Carver exactly as he is.
And realizing that what I thought was love was just trauma bonding with someone who never deserved me in the first place.
My phone buzzes. A text from
Riya
How did it go?
you were right. He’s an asshole. But I’m finally free.
THANK GOD. Come home. I have wine and the desire to hear you drag him.
I laugh, surprising myself. For the first time in days, the thought of home—of Riya, of our apartment, of the life I’ve been building that has nothing to do with Miles Carver—feels like enough.
More than enough.
It feels like everything.
32
ETHAN
I've been standing outside Piper's apartment building for ten minutes, trying to work up the courage to knock on her door.
The apology speech I've been rehearsing all afternoon feels inadequate.
'Sorry, I'm an emotionally stunted asshole who can't handle criticism' doesn't exactly roll off the tongue. But something shifted when I saw her at the showcase.
