Harper stared up at the ceiling.
Three cracks. Two were vertical, running through the plaster like lightning bolts, and the third was horizontal. It kind of looked like a smiley face, she thought, which felt like rubbing salt in the wound. She should really tell her father and Diana to fix it.
If she ever left her bed.
Harper shifted, being careful not to jostle her injured shoulder. It had been three days since the wedding. Three days since she broke things off with Lawson, and she'd nearly died falling off a bridge. Three days since she'd holed up at her parents' place in Kensington, binging Modern Family and living off saltine crackers and soup.
She was wallowing.
Some part of her was aware that it was pathetic. But the larger — more insistent — part of her wasn't sure that she could get out of bed. Lawson's words played over and over again in her head, a sick, endless song.
I've never liked anyone as much as I like you, Harper. But I don't know how to give you pieces of myself.
Harper picked up a pillow, burying her face in it. Nope. Screw it. She was going to stay here forever. Or at least, until her plane left on Saturday.
"Harper?" a voice called.
Her bedroom door opened. The smell of expensive Chanel perfume filtered into the room, followed by light footsteps. Diana.
"Someone's here to see you," Diana said.
Her heart stuttered. "If it's Lawson—"
"It's not Lawson," a feminine voice called. "It's me." There was the scraping sound of metal-on-metal: curtains being forcefully yanked open. "Jesus, Lane. When was the last time you opened a window?"
"Cass?" Harper asked hoarsely.
She sat up, blinking in the harsh light. Cass was silhouetted against the window, her head cocked to one side. Her blonde hair was slicked back into a ponytail, and she was dressed in what appeared to be a black formfitting jumpsuit. Diana slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her.
"Cute cast," Cass said. "Very chic."
Harper glanced down at the sling — bulky, itchy, and generally hideous — and pulled a face. "I wouldn't recommend it, honestly."
"Can I sign it?"
"No," Harper said. "Because you'll write something rude."
Cass winked. "Guilty as charged."
Harper frowned, scanning through her mental calendar. What day was it? Wednesday? Thursday? "What are you doing here? Don't you have a date tonight?"
She'd kept in touch with Cass after what happened at Huntingdon Estate — or rather, Cass had kept in touch with her. Harper sensed that Cass wasn't used to hearing the word no, and largely felt it didn't apply to her, anyway.
Cass flapped a hand. "I sacked him off."
"Cass!" Horror filled her. "No. Call him back."
"And miss this?" Cass tossed her ponytail. "I don't think so. Right." She rummaged in her bag, producing a large cardboard box. "I've brought doughnuts and The Holiday. Which do you want first?"
"It's June," Harper said weakly.
"So?" Cass plopped down on the bed. "Griffin told me that it's your favourite film. Besides, Jude Law is fit any time of year." She studied Harper intently, taking in her snarled hair and the dark circles under her eyes. "Christ. Hale really did a number on you, didn't he?"
"I just..." Harper picked at a stray thread on the bedsheets. "How is he?"
Cass gave her a look. "Why don't you call him and ask?"
"I can't."
"Why not? Your phone and fingers both work, don't they?"
"He doesn't want to speak to me," Harper said.
Cass shifted on the bed. "And how do you know that?"
"Because he hasn't tried to call," Harper said. "Or visit."
Cass looked up at the ceiling. Harper got the sense she was praying for strength. "I'm only going to say this once, Lane, so listen up. That boy chased you across a collapsing bridge. He saved your life. And then you left the Estate without saying goodbye, moved house, and refused to leave your bedroom." She arched an eyebrow. "So who's ghosting who?"
A lump rose in her throat. "I wasn't ready to see him."
"I'm not judging you," Cass said, opening the box of doughnuts. "I'm just saying. Get some perspective."
"You really think Lawson wants to see me?"
Cass nibbled on a piece of doughnut. "I know he does."
Something in her chest began to burn. "This is so stupid. I've only known him for a few weeks. Why do I care so much?"
"Oh, darling." Cass's face softened. "Love doesn't have a timeline. You either fall for them, or you don't. Simple as that." She pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her good shoulder. "Each day will get easier."
"It doesn't feel like it." Harper's voice came out as a croak. "It feels like I'll never be happy again."
"I know," Cass murmured. "But it will get easier. I promise."
"What if it doesn't?"
"Then I'll still be here," Cass said. "And I'm very good with a slingshot. I could hit him with a rock from a mile away."
Something in Harper crumpled.
Hot tears sprung to her eyes. Oh, god. This was it, wasn't it? She'd lost him. Or maybe she'd never had him, Harper thought, wiping at her face. Maybe she'd fallen in love with someone that didn't exist. She was dimly aware of Cass stroking her hair, murmuring something in a soothing voice, but she couldn't make out what she was saying.
They could have stayed like that for minutes, or hours, or days. The light bled from the room, plunging the room into shadow. Harper's breath turned shallow, and then evened out, rising and falling in thin waves. Finally, Cass rose to her feet.
"Right," Cass said. "Get up."
Harper blew her nose. "What are you doing?"
Cass crossed to the bookshelf, fiddling with a black device. It took Harper a moment to identify it: an Alexa. "I'm putting on Lizzo."
"Why?"
"Because we're dancing. Obviously."
Harper shrunk back. "I don't want to dance."
"You'll feel better," Cass said firmly. "Trust me."
Wariness filled her. "Cass..."
"Come on." Cass tugged on her arm. "Get your arse out of bed."
Harper stumbled to her feet. Trumpets and pop synthesizer filled the room, so loud that it rattled the teacups littering her desk. Cass picked up Harper's good arm — limp as a noodle — and began waving it in the air. Then she started to sing. Loudly, and off-key.
A surprised laugh escaped her. "You really can't sing."
Cass only sang louder.
Harper shook her head. "What are you doing?"
Cass ignored this. Instead, she leapt up on the bed, shaking her hips in a very poor imitation of Shakira. The sight was so unexpected that Harper laughed again — louder, this time — and clapped a hand over her mouth. Something warm filled her, and it took her a moment to identify it.
Happiness.
She was happy, Harper realized. Or at least, she wasn't devastated, which was a major improvement on the last few days.
"Come on." Cass held out a hand. "Get up here."
This time, Harper took her hand.
They danced on the bed like maniacs, jumping up and down, stuffing their face with powdered doughnuts. Cass moved on to the macarena, flinging out her arms in every direction. Harper's stomach ached from laughing. Finally, she collapsed on the bed, staring up at those same cracks in the ceiling.
She never wanted to see them again.
"Well?" Cass leapt off the bed. "Do you feel better?"
"Surprisingly," Harper said, "yes."
"Good." Cass crossed to the mirror, fixing her ponytail. "Now get dressed. I'm going to do your make-up, and then we're going out."
Harper sat up. "Where?"
"Somewhere with a dance floor." Cass swung her bag over her shoulder. "I don't know about you, but I plan on getting outrageously drunk."
"I'm not legal to drink," Harper pointed out.
"You are here."
"And I'm on pain meds."
"Ah." Cass paused. "Well, maybe we'll stick to soda water, then."
"I don't know." Harper chewed on her lip. "What if someone hits on me?"
Cass shrugged. "Then kiss him. It'll take your mind off things."
Harper wrinkled her nose. "Is that ethical?"
Cass smirked. There was a dangerous glint in her eyes, and, for the first time, Harper understood why Cass and Griffin were best friends. Griffin was great at destroying objects; Cass was great at destroying hearts. Cass patted her cheek.
"Haven't you heard?" Cass asked. "This is London, darling. We can do whatever the hell we like here."
A/N: Hello lovely readers,
Did someone say... another double update? ;)
Full author's note will be on the next chapter!
Affectionately,
J.K.