“Is selfish. And manipulative. And not worth either of our time.”
Harper is quiet for a long moment, stirring her latte with slow, deliberate movements. “You know what the worst part is? I suspected it. When I came back from London, you'd disappeared from study group, and wouldn't look at him in public. The way he got defensive when I asked about you. I knew something had happened, but I let him convince me I was being paranoid.”
“Harper—”
“And now I'm sitting here, finding out my boyfriend spent our entire summer break fucking my predecessor while I was sending him 'I miss you' texts from abroad.” Her voicecracks. “How many other girls were there? How many other 'study partners' should I be asking about?”
“I don't know,” I admit quietly. “But Harper, this isn't about you not being enough?—”
“Isn't it?” She meets my eyes, mascara starting to smudge. “Because right now, I'm wondering what was so wrong with me that he needed you. And what was so wrong with you that he kept me.”
The words land like a slap, but I can't even be angry because I've wondered the same thing.
“Maybe,” I say slowly, “the question isn't what's wrong with us. Maybe it's what's wrong with someone who needs multiple women to feel validated. Who can only feel powerful when he's keeping secrets.”
Harper stares at me for a long moment. When she speaks again, her voice is steady.
“Thank you for telling me. I know this couldn't have been easy.”
“Thank you for listening. And for not hating me.”
“I don't hate you. I hate that he put us both in this position.” She looks up at me. “Can I ask what made you decide to tell me now?”
I think about Miles sitting across from me yesterday, asking me to help him lie to her. About Ethan’s note and Greg waiting in my apartment. About the clarity that came from finally seeing Miles exactly as he is.
“Because I’m tired of protecting him. And I finally realized that I’m not to blame, that I couldn’t have predicted what he did.”
Harper smiles, small but real. “Good for you.”
We sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, both of us processing the weight of what’s been shared. The afternoon sun hits my face and warms me. I realize I feel lighter than I have in months.
“So,” Harper says eventually, “what about you and Ethan? That looked pretty intense at the party.”
Heat creeps up my neck. “It is. Or it was. I kind of messed it up.”
“How?”
“Long story involving game criticism and secret identitiesandmy inability to communicate like a functional human being.”
Harper laughs, surprising both of us. “God, love’s a mess, isn’t it?
“It is. I’m actually working on an app to try and fix that.”
“How’s it going?”
I think about Ethan’s note, about the way he defended me to Miles, about how he makes me laugh and challenges me to be better and trusts me even when I hurt him.
“I think it’s got some things right, but I don’t think it’s the answer I thought it could be.”
Harper stands, gathering her things. “Miles told me you got into Jenkins' AI lab. He was jealous, you know. Said you got everything so easily—perfect grades, professor recommendations. He never understood how hard you worked for it. Congratulations. I know you deserve it.”
I shouldn’t be surprised that Miles is jealous, but I am.
“Thanks, but I’m not in yet. I still need to make sure my grades are up.”
“You’ll be fine.” She’s so confident. “Piper? Thank you. Really. I know this wasn’t easy, but I needed to know.”
“What are you going to do? About Miles?”
