Chapter 56 Everything Falls Apart
Harper's POV,
Maya woke me up at six AM by vomiting loudly in the bathroom.
I stumbled out of bed and found her on the floor, pale and sweating, looking like death warmed over.
"Food poisoning," she gasped between heaves. "That sushi place last night was a mistake."
"Should I take you to the ER?"
"No. I just need to sleep and die quietly in my own bathroom." She dry-heaved again. "Harper, I'm so sorry. I can't go to the rehearsal dinner tonight. I can barely stand up."
My stomach dropped. "Maya, you're my moral support. You're the only reason I agreed to any of this."
"I know. I'm the worst." She leaned against the toilet, miserable. "But I literally cannot be vertical for more than thirty seconds without wanting to die. There's no way I'm making it through a dinner."
Crew appeared in the doorway, half-asleep and concerned. "What's happening?"
"Maya has food poisoning. She can't come tonight." I tried to keep my voice steady but it came out slightly panicked. "Which means I'm facing Joel's rehearsal dinner without my best friend as backup."
"You have me as backup."
"I know, but it's different. Maya was going to run interference if things got weird. She was going to rescue me from awkward conversations. She was my escape plan." I was spiraling now, I could feel it. "What if Brianna says something awful? What if Joel corners me? What if everyone stares at us like we're a circus act?"
"Then we leave." Crew grabbed my shoulders gently. "Harper, we can still skip this. We don't have to go."
"But I already told Catherine we'd be there. I can't back out now."
"You absolutely can. You text her right now and say your friend is sick and you're taking care of her. That's a completely valid reason." He looked at Maya. "No offense."
"None taken. Please use me as an excuse to skip this nightmare." Maya groaned. "I'm giving you full permission to blame your absence on me dying of raw fish."
I looked between them. Crew was giving me his 'whatever you decide is fine' face. Maya was giving me her 'please make good choices' face between bouts of nausea.
The smart thing would be to stay home. Take care of Maya. Skip the rehearsal dinner entirely. Just go to the wedding tomorrow and get it over with.
But the thought of backing out now, of letting fear win after I'd psyched myself up for this, made me feel like a coward.
"I'm still going," I said.
"Harper—" Crew started.
"I'm going. Maya, I'll check on you before we leave. Make sure you have water and crackers and whatever else you need. But I'm not letting food poisoning derail this entire plan." I headed for the kitchen. "We're going to that dinner. We're going to be polite and composed. And then we're going to come home and tell Maya every terrible detail while she recovers."
"You're insane," Maya called weakly from the bathroom.
"Probably. But we're doing it anyway."
____
At two PM, my phone rang. Monica.
"Please tell me this is good news," I answered.
"Define good." She sounded tired. "The DA's office called. Robert Cross is negotiating a plea deal. He's willing to plead guilty to corruption charges if they drop the conspiracy counts. But the deal requires victim impact statements from everyone affected. Including you."
"When?"
"They want preliminary statements by next week. Full testimony if it goes to sentencing hearing in three weeks."
Three weeks. Right when we were supposed to be settling into Vancouver.
"Can I do it remotely? Video call or written statement?"
"Possibly. I'll negotiate for that. But Harper, this means the Robert Cross situation isn't over yet. It's going to drag on for at least another month, maybe two." She paused. "I know you wanted this behind you before the move."
"Yeah, well, nothing is going according to plan this week." I rubbed my face. "Do what you need to do, Monica. I'll make it work."
After she hung up, I just sat there on Maya's couch, feeling the weight of everything pressing down.
Maya was sick. The house sale was delayed. Robert Cross needed testimony. And in four hours, I had to walk into my ex-boyfriend's rehearsal dinner and pretend I had my life together.
Crew found me stress-eating cereal directly from the box.
"That bad?" he asked.
"Robert Cross plea deal requires victim testimony. Which means I'm not done with legal bullshit for another month or two." I shoved another handful of cereal into my mouth. "Also Maya's still dying in the bathroom. Also I hate everything."
"We can cancel tonight—"
"Stop suggesting we cancel. We're going." I set down the cereal box. "I need to shower and get ready and put on the dress Maya ordered and pretend to be a functional human being for three hours. That's it. Three hours. I can survive three hours."
"Harper—"
"I'm fine. Everything's fine." I stood up too quickly and felt lightheaded. "When's the last time I ate actual food instead of cereal?"
"Breakfast. Which you barely touched."
"Right. Okay. I'll eat something now. Then shower. Then makeup. Then dress. Then we'll go and it'll be fine and nothing will go wrong because nothing else CAN go wrong at this point."
Famous last words.
____
At four PM, the Amazon delivery arrived with Maya's dress orders. I opened the box to find two of the three dresses. The third one, the one I'd specifically chosen, wasn't there.
"You have got to be kidding me," I said, staring at the packing slip.
Crew looked over my shoulder. "What's wrong?"
"They sent the wrong dress. Or forgot to include it. Or the universe is conspiring against me." I pulled out the two dresses that DID arrive. One was too small. The other was the wrong color, somehow looking mustard yellow instead of the gold it had appeared online.
"You can wear one of these—" Crew started.
"No I can't. Look at them. One doesn't fit and one makes me look jaundiced." I was on the verge of tears now, which was ridiculous because it was just a dress, but everything was piling up and I couldn't handle one more thing going wrong.
"Then wear something else. Your wedding dress. That black dress Maya mentioned. Literally anything."
"I can't wear my wedding dress to the rehearsal dinner. That's for tomorrow. And the black dress is a funeral dress and I already said I wasn't wearing that." I sat down on the couch, defeated. "This is a sign. The universe is telling me not to go."
"Or it's just a shipping error and you're catastrophizing."
"I'm not catastrophizing. I'm realistically assessing that everything that could go wrong today HAS gone wrong." I counted on my fingers. "Maya's sick. House sale delayed. Legal stuff dragging on. Dress didn't arrive. What's next? Car breaks down on the way there? Joel announces he's still in love with me during dinner? Brianna goes into labor again?"
"Okay, you're spiraling." Crew sat next to me. "Let's problem-solve. You need a dress. Maya has a closet full of dresses. Can you borrow one?"
I looked toward Maya's bedroom. "She's like three inches shorter than me. Nothing will fit right."
"Then we go buy something. Right now. There's a mall fifteen minutes away."
"The dinner starts in two hours. We don't have time—"
"We have enough time. Come on." He pulled me up. "We're going to the mall, we're buying you a dress, and then we're going to this dinner because you've already decided we're going and I'm not going to let a shipping error stop you."
"I hate shopping."
"I know. But you hate backing out of commitments more. So let's go."
____
The mall was a nightmare of Friday evening crowds and picked-over sale racks. We hit four stores before finding anything remotely appropriate.
The dress I ended up with was fine. Navy blue, simple, fit well enough. But it wasn't the one I'd chosen. It wasn't the confidence armor I'd been counting on.
It was just a dress.
We got back to Maya's apartment at five-thirty. I had thirty minutes to do makeup, hair, and transform into someone who looked like they had their life together.
Maya emerged from her bedroom looking slightly less dead.
"You're still going?" she asked, her voice hoarse.
"We're still going."
"You're insane. I love you. Please don't murder Joel." She hugged me weakly. "Text me updates. I'll be here dying and living vicariously through your disaster."
I changed into the navy dress. Applied makeup with shaking hands. Straightened my hair because I didn't have time for anything more complicated. Put on heels that made my feet hurt immediately.
Crew appeared in the doorway wearing his new suit, looking annoyingly put-together.
"You ready?" he asked.
"No. But we're going anyway."
We drove to the Edgewater Hotel in near silence. I kept checking my phone obsessively. No messages from Joel. No texts from Catherine saying the dinner was cancelled. Nothing.
Just my own anxiety reflected back at me in the dark screen.
"We can still turn around," Crew said for the fifteenth time.
"No we can't. We're here." I looked at the hotel looming ahead. "We're doing this."
He parked and came around to open my door. Offered his hand. I took it, feeling like I was walking toward my own execution.
The hotel lobby was elegant, all wood and water views and people in expensive clothes milling around. We followed signs to the private dining room where the rehearsal dinner was being held.
At the entrance, Catherine Cross was greeting guests. She saw us and smiled, warm and genuine.
"Harper! Crew! I'm so glad you made it." She hugged me like we were old friends instead of connected by lawsuits and corruption. "You both look wonderful. Come in, come in."
We stepped through the doorway into a room full of people I didn't know.
And standing near the bar, talking to his groomsmen, was Joel.