0002. CHAPTER TWO
— and a bouquet of ... nerves?
IF YOU HAD ASKED HARLOW FINLEY WHAT HER WEDDING DAY WOULD LOOK LIKE, EVEN A MONTH AGO, HER STORY WOULD BE SOMETHING ENTIRELY DIFFERENT FROM THE ONE IN FRONT OF HER. Of course, she was still in the planning phase, but she never expected her wedding to look like this. Not in the manner of how her wedding looked physically, no, she was pulling out everything she had always wanted in a wedding. All of the decorations and colors were straight out of her childhood dream wedding. But marrying her best friend just to have a memory with her father? That had never been in the wedding scrapbook she made in elementary school. Having her father there with her has always been a constant, never anything she thought to question. Not when he had gone to everything before when he was feeling okay not even three months ago. He had been fine, until the minute he wasn't. And suddenly Harlow Finley's entire life was uprooted. Her entire life changed and she saw everything flash before her eyes. The grand wedding she had always planned on, with the purple and pink color scheme, and her father walking her down the aisle to an instrumental cover of her favorite song, her childhood dream had gone up in flames.
What made it worse, she had nothing to be angry at. No one to be mad at. No one except the world and life itself. But you can't curse the world, no matter how hard you try. It just comes back to bite you in the ass. At least, that was Harlow's experience with the world. Some people had good relationships with the world, with life itself, Harlow Finley wanted to understand that odd place that people existed in. How they could be so content with something so cruel? So evil. Then again, some people thrived in the evil of Gotham City. Some people could only survive in the shadows, with the darkness that poured from their souls. Sometimes that darkness was the only thing a person could see, the only thing a person knew. Harlow Finley had never been a person who thrived in the darkness. No, she had always been someone who blossomed in the light. It's why Gotham City was stifling to her, the city-bred darkness and darkness only. So dealing with this? Dealing with something as dark as her thoughts at this moment? It was something she was woefully unprepared for.
Bruce had always been the better of the two when it came to the darkness. Harlow Finley confided in him for lots of things, trying to find a way to even begin to survive in the growing darkness. Especially now, she found herself wishing he had words of wisdom for her. He was the only person she knew who had lost his parents; the only person she would trust with her feelings and her current thoughts. The only person who could give her advice that she would be willing to follow through. But even then, even with his guiding hand and words of wisdom, she knew this journey was something only she could travel through. Something she had to go through alone because no one had been under the same circumstances as she. Not many people were getting married to their best friend for their dying father to walk them down the aisle. No, most people getting married to their best friend were doing it because of love.
And Harlow Finley wouldn't deny her feelings for Bruce Wayne. It had taken her years to come to terms with them. Taken her dating another guy to understand that she felt a little something more than just friendship for him. Bruce Wayne was a part of her soul, whether she had planned for it or not. But, he would never feel the same. Or, maybe, he had at one point. Either way, Harlow Finley felt like her chance had passed when it came to him. She was too old for silly crushes, Harlow Finley was past the point of having her heart beat quicker in her chest at the mere sight of a boy. If he had liked her, he would have said something. Especially now, they were both older adults who understood what they were feeling. It's why Harlow never said a thing. She was in love with him, she knew that much, but he wasn't in love with her (and as much as it hurt, she wasn't going to cry over it, she couldn't change the way he feels).
Turning around in the billowing white dress, Harlow raised a brow in question to her mother. The latter did her a glance over, lips tugging down as she looked at the dress she had just changed into. Harlow let out a sigh, she knew the wedding dress would be the hardest part of everything. Especially when she was afraid of going shopping anywhere — the press catching wind of anything right now would only add more stress onto her that she just, couldn't deal with. With a shake of disapproval, Harlow turned back to take off her mother's old wedding dress. Her mother called out as Harlow began to pull at the straps, "It's not that you look bad in it honey, I think it's a beautiful dress. Obviously, I wouldn't have gotten married in it if I didn't. I just don't think it's what you should be wearing on your big day, you know?"
Harlow leaned her head out of the doorframe, keeping her mother from seeing her naked body that was hidden behind it, "I know, I know. There wasn't that feeling that came with wearing it, it was just like wearing any other dress for a gala if that makes any sense?"
"It makes perfect sense," Her mother smiled. "I had to try on twenty-something dresses before I found that one."
"And that's just," Harlow leaned back, sighing as she pulled on an oversized T-shirt and a pair of shorts to go underneath them. "I can't just go out and try on twenty-something dresses to find the one, you know?"
"Who says you have to go out?" Her mother asked, a brow raised. "Sweetheart, I know you try not to use the Finley name to your advantage. But, this might be one of those moments where we use both the name and the money to keep things quiet. Just for long enough that you and Bruce can figure out the exact cover story for your surprise engagement."
Leaning against the doorframe, Harlow let her head fall back with a groan, "This is so fucking complicated, mom."
"I know, honey," Her mother nodded. "But you're the one who wanted to do this and somehow got the world's most reclusive man to agree."
Harlow's sigh largened as she thought about what her mother said, she wasn't incorrect with her reasoning. Harlow was the one who wanted to do this, it was purely out of her satisfaction of gaining a memory with her father, and she was the one who went to her best friend to ask for his hand in (fake) marriage. Something the two have yet to talk about, which was another added stress on Harlow Finley's shoulders. How were they going to do this? How were they going to make it work? It almost felt wrong to do it now that she thought about it as if she were taking advantage of her best friend's compassion (not that he showed it to the world or anyone but her). Deep down she knew he would say yes, without a doubt, without even thinking about it. That was just the kind of person Bruce Wayne was, especially when it came to Harlow Finley. She had always been able to get him to do things he would never do by himself. Half of the galas he attended when they were teens were because of Harlow, all she had to do was ask him with a little pout and he buckled. Running her hands over her face, Harlow blew out a breath she had been holding, "I, just, is this worth all of the effort? I mean, this isn't just me, you know? Bruce is being dragged into this, and I know he agreed, but I still can't help but wonder whether or not this was the right thing to do. It's selfish, isn't it?"
Her mother had moved during her spiel, placing her hands lovingly over her cheeks, "Sweetheart, you've spent the last twenty years of your life being selfless. It's okay to do something purely for your edification, especially for reasons like this. Bruce knows and understands this, it's why he agreed to it."
"I feel like I'm taking advantage of him, mom," Harlow's hands clung onto her mother's wrists, blinking the tears away from her face desperately. Her mother opened and closed her mouth, it was rare for her mother to be speechless, she almost always had a response for anything. Finally, as the dam broke free from her eyes and tears cascaded down her cheek, Harlow continued to speak. Part of her felt like the tears opened a floodgate that she couldn't quite stop, her thoughts were spiraling louder than those of the three people in the house (which was a rarity). Voicing those thoughts aloud, Harlow said things she hadn't truly thought about before, "And what am I supposed to do? I've been in love with him for as long as I can remember, mom. It's wrong because I know, in some way, walking down the aisle and seeing him will be it for me. I can't picture anyone else being there. And then say three months down the line, dad's dead and there isn't a reason for us to be legally married anymore, so, we get divorced. I won't, I couldn't, it would kill me. I wouldn't be able to come back from that, it would break my heart right then and there. I'm asking a lot from him but I'm also putting my entire heart on the line, because, for me, this would be it. Even if it's not real, even if he doesn't feel the same way. He's the only person I've pictured marrying before, the only one. Not to mention he'll have been the only person dad walks me down the aisle to marry. This is it. No matter what, he's it for me. That's not something I can just casually mention to him after we get married but I'm not telling him that before, either. Because god fucking knows that I would scare him off, you know?"
"Harlow," Alice tapped her daughter's cheek, cutting off her spiral of words and thoughts. Harlow let out a shaky breath in response, body slumping over some more to lean her weight further into the door, "Sweetheart, what's stopping you from telling Bruce that you love him?"
Rolling her eyes at her mother's comment, "It's not that simple, I can't just tell him."
"It is that simple, Harlow," Her mother chided. "Are you forgetting how I watched you grow up with him? How I watched you two fall more and more in love with each other, I thought it was going to happen while you were in high school. Your father and I used to bet when we thought you two would say something, and then neither one of you did."
Shaking her head, Harlow fought the words that slipped from her mother's mouth, "He was never into me like that."
"Honey, yes he was," Alice raised a brow, a laugh leaving her lips. "I've never seen a young man more enamored with someone than he was with you."
"No, mom, he didn't like me. Sure as hell didn't love me like you're making out. He had this thing for a brunette named Verity in high school, half the time while we hanging out, I was giving him pointers on how to ask her out," Harlow blew out a breath at the memory, she couldn't recall a time that she had been that jealous. Watching Bruce's eyes follow the girl across the halls of the school, or how on the night of prom he would be staring at her and her date (with what she coined those tell-tale Wayne doe eyes, the ones he used when staring at something he desperately wanted) (it's why she was so good at getting him Christmas gifts, she could always tell what things he passed by in a store that caught his eye), all the while never saying a word. Part of her was happy that he never worked up the nerve to ask her out because anyone in their right mind would have said yes to him. He was an attractive man who was also loaded, anyone that walked the halls of their high school would have gladly given him their hand in marriage. Not to say that it was any different for Harlow, she had turned down plenty of people that asked her out (secretly, she was always waiting for the one person she wanted to ask her out) (and then he never did). "Maybe if I had it all figured out when we were in high school, I could have confessed my feelings then and had my heart broken, at least I would have had a chance to get over him then. Instead, I am a twenty-eight-year-old woman who is extremely successful in day-to-day life but is hopelessly in love with her childhood best friend who she also happens to be marrying in about a month. God, just saying that out loud makes me sick to my stomach. This is, we shouldn't be, we should call this off, right?"
Her mother let out a sigh, "Whatever you want to do, Harlow."
"Mom, I need your opinion on this," Another sigh tumbled from Harlow's lips, "I can't, I can't figure this out on my own."
A knock on the door stopped her mother from giving a response, Margaret popped her head into the room before a word left their lips, "Sorry to bother you two, but, Mister Wayne is here for Master Harlow."
She glanced down to her watch with her brows furrowed, he wasn't supposed to be there until three, "It's only one-thirty."
"Yes ma'am," Margaret nodded. "But he's here. Would you like for me to bring him in, or?"
"Of course, let him in, Margaret," Alice answered for her daughter. "Bring him into Joshua's study, I'll meet him there and give Harlow some time to compose herself."
"Master Harlow," Margaret called out before leaving the doorframe, "would you like for me to start a kettle once I get Mister Wayne situated?"
Heaving herself off of the doorframe, Harlow smiled at the older woman and her mother's slowly retreating figure, "That would be lovely, Margaret."
"Earl grey?"
She nodded in response to the question, opting for the easier way to answer (or at least, the way that was less energy-consuming). Her mother followed Margaret out of the room, leaving Harlow to her thoughts. As much as she loved her mother, Harlow could admit that she rarely helped her solve any problems. Her mother was a good listener (or perhaps, it was easier to say that she rarely ever listened, she was just good at tuning her out and letting her daughter use her as a sounding board), but giving her advice? That was never her thing. Harlow often when to her father when she needed someone to listen and give helpful feedback. It was just how her house worked, it always had. Even when she was a kid, she found herself talking to her mother about the things she wanted no one to question her about. But then she would turn around and goes to her father for the meaningful conversations that she thinks of randomly late at night. Her father had always been her sounding board, the one who was there to give her advice she was willing to follow. Her mother, on the other hand, was the one she went to for the more practical things in life.
Harlow rubbed her face with her hands, blowing out a breath of anxiety as she stepped towards the wooden doors of the room she stood in. She knew talking to Bruce was something she had to do, she wanted to see him and speak to him. But when she thought about everything going on around them, her stomach started to do summersaults. The entire arrangement, though her own idea, was stressing her out. So much so that she wondered if it was even worth going through with (though, she's sure she had said that much out loud as well).
She could hear his voice from the hallway leading up to her father's study, Harlow could make out his voice in any crowd. The sound alone was enough to make her heart flutter and mind momentarily stop working, like a desktop browser as it crashed with the very loud noise that startles its user. Harlow Finley felt her worries almost disappear (annoyingly so) just by his voice, she couldn't explain how or why Bruce Wayne was able to do that. Perhaps he had a key to unlocking some part of her brain that she had no idea about. Or maybe she was just overwhelmingly in love with her best friend and even the sound of his voice makes her brain stop functioning. It was probably the latter, but, Harlow liked to think that Bruce had a key to something inside of her (if she were being honest with herself, he already did, he owned a part of her heart and she knew it). Margaret had just finished putting the tea on the table in front of him when Harlow stood in the doorway, the room had turned silent because of the both of them. Bruce's eyes locked onto Harlow, the edges of his lips tugging upwards (though, barely noticeable to anyone who hadn't spent years of their lives with Bruce) at the sight of her. Harlow felt her cheeks redden (out of embarrassment? excitement? bashfulness? Harlow wasn't quite sure which one she could equate it to), head casting down towards the floor as she shuffled into the room. Her mother had taken their lack of interest in anyone except each other to slip out of the study, closing the door behind her.
"Hi," Her voice was soft, barely cracking through the comfortable silence that sat around the two as she sat down opposite him on the couch. He didn't say anything, just nodded with a smile on his lips. That was enough for Harlow, anything would be enough for her when it came to him. Whatever he wanted to or felt comfortable giving her would be enough for it. It always had and she suspected it always will. He reached for something out of his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box that made Harlow's eyes narrow, "Bruce, what are you doing?"
"I know you only asked me to marry you because of your dad," Bruce started, opening the velvet box to reveal the diamond engagement ring that his father had given his mother. Harlow felt the gasp leave her lips before she could stop it, her mouth dropping open as her eyes widened. She started to shake her head fervently, there wasn't any way she could take this from him. She couldn't wear that ring. Not when it meant the entire world to him. He spoke about it all the time while growing up, how he would propose to his future wife with that ring. It was the ring to him. For a long time, Harlow could only imagine getting engaged with that ring (funny considering how long she stayed in denial about her feelings for her best friend). Seeing it now, being placed in front of her as part of a marriage that would be technically a sham, it seemed wrong. "But, you and I both know this is the ring I would want my wife to wear."
"Bruce," Harlow trailed off, looking down at the ring, she let her fingers ghost over it.
"Harlow, this is the only part of the deal that I need you to do for me," Bruce gently grabbed one of her hands, lacing their fingers together. "I trust you and I know you, we've known each other our entire lives."
"That's exactly why I can't wear this ring, Bruce," Harlow shook her head. "I know how much it means to you, won't it ruin the meaning if I'm the one wearing it? You wouldn't be able to use it again and get married another time, this would be it."
Unbeknownst to her, Bruce couldn't imagine being with anyone else after her. Even if this situation weren't real, this was the closest thing to the life he wanted with Harlow. He craved being able to love her, to cherish her like she were the last star in the night skin. A breath of fresh air after being submerged in the water for a little too long. If this was the only chance to see her in his mother's ring, the ring he always imagined resting on her finger (the ring he had resized in their senior year of high school to fit Harlow's ring size), he was going to jump on it. This idea of hers was something that lit a fire in him. He didn't want to lose out on this chance with her. Even if it weren't real, or for the right reasons, she would still be his wife. And he, her husband. The media and the world around them would think they were a happy and loving couple. That was enough for him, at least.
Perhaps it would help him gain the courage to say something, as well.
Meanwhile, Harlow Finley couldn't stop her mind from racing while she stared at that ring. The ring. The one she always imagined having on her finger. It would be a conversation topic as Bruce paraded her from person to person, a smile on both of their faces by the end of the night. She could feel the way her heart practically exploded thinking about it. How her smile wanted to tear its way onto her cheeks. Harlow Finley felt elated, excited even, at the prospect of Bruce wanting her to wear the ring. Of him trusting her to wear the ring. They had shared many secrets over the years, many nights staying up next to each to speak about the most random of things, but this? This took the cake for the most surprising turn of events that Bruce Wayne had been the center of.
"This is the only part I ask for this deal," Bruce stated, his tone made it sound like a done deal. As if there was no other way to go about it, "You can have everything else however you want it, I'll sign any prenup you want me to, but the ring is non-negotiable."
Harlow blinked, not once, not twice, but three times before speaking, "I wasn't going to make you sign a prenup."
Raising a brow, "Really?"
"You're richer than I am," Harlow sheepishly mumbled. "Kind of figured you would ask me to sign one."
Bruce shrugged, "You don't strike me as the type of person to bleed me dry."
"Well, clearly you don't know me that well," Harlow let the joke slip, garnering a chuckle from the man sitting across from her. "If it means that much to you, Bruce, I'll wear the ring."
"Good," Bruce smiled, pulling the ring out of the box and grabbing at her left hand. He slid it onto her finger, watching as her eyes followed the ring and her mouth gained a bright smile as it rested on her finger, "See, it's a perfect fit."
She wiggled her fingers a little, a light laugh following suit, "Bruce."
"None of that," He pointed. "That ring was meant for you, clearly. Everything's going to be just fine, you hear me? You'll get to have your dad walk you down the aisle, a memory that will stay with you for forever. And the media will think we're the perfect pair of newlyweds living in Wayne Tower. No one has to know any different except for you, me, and the others that live in our homes. I know you've been stressing yourself out about this, you stress yourself out about everything you could do, but this isn't something to stress over. It won't be perfect, but no wedding is. So, why not enjoy the controlled chaos for now and let the worrying happen for the day of."
"How is it you always have the right thing to say?"
"The easiest way is just not speaking until you find the right moment."
"And somehow you always find the right moment."
"It's easier when you know the person you're speaking to."
"Flattery will get you nowhere, Bruce," Harlow smiled, shaking her head at her best friend. Bruce couldn't help the small smile that graced his features at her tease — it was a smile he only ever had because of her. The same smile he only felt comfortable using around her, which made it a rare occurrence. Very few people got to see the elusive billionaire, fewer ever got to see a smile across his typically gloom and doom features.
"It's gotten me here, hasn't it?"
Harlow couldn't think of a fitting response, instead she let her gaze fall to her lap as her shoulders shook in laughter. Bruce watched her, adoration reaching his eyes as he watched the laughter reach her face. That was always one of his favorite sights — how the smile reached her eyes while she laughed. Though, Bruce would always say she was one of his favorite sights. And it's because she was, his heart fluttered in his chest every single time he saw her. In ways he could never describe to anyone else, in ways that he never wanted to describe to anyone else. Because speaking about them would make it real, letting others know about something that has always been his would make it too real. There was a reason he had never told Harlow about his feelings, about how she made his entire existence seem worthy of being there, and it was because he feared losing her.
"We're really gonna do this, huh?" Harlow looked up at him, her blue eyes staring into his own. "Get married to each other."
"Seems like it," Bruce responded, tipping his head to hide his growing smile.
"This is crazy," her voice came out as a whisper, fingers playing with the hem of her T-shirt.
"Crazier things have been done before," Bruce mumbled, trying to calm her nerves.
And in some odd way, it worked. Whether it was the statement itself or just his presence, Harlow wasn't really sure.
AUTHORS NOTE
Look at these two fucking idiots, your honor, I love them.
No but seriously ... the himbo vibes from Bruce here 😩🙏 and the just emotionally stunted vibes from both Harlow and Bruce here 😵💫🫣🫡 can't believe they're still alive at this point. Somehow, I strongly believe that this chapter has some of my best writing in it? Can't tell you how or why. It just does.
Also this was literally 4.5k words, don't say I never feed you guys. And I know this fic is one I neglected for a while, but I promise you, it's going to get the attention it deserves. Bc it deserves a lot of attention. Definitely not bc I want to get to the plot of the movie for the *drama* and the *yearning* and the *angst* you know?
Leave me your thoughts below! Comments and interactions are the best way to keep me inspired for my fics!!