Chapter 121 HARPER
By the time Tyler’s car disappeared at the end of the street, the quiet it left behind settled deeper than it should have.
I stood there for a moment, my hand still resting on the door, staring at the empty road like something might change if I gave it another second. It didn’t.
So I stepped inside.
The house smelled warm of garlic, butter, and something sweet underneath it.
For a second, it wrapped around me in a way that almost felt comforting. Almost.
Then I heard laughter.
It came from the kitchen, light and easy, and something in my chest tightened before I even saw them.
My dad stood by the stove, stirring something in a pan, and Claire leaned against the counter beside him, watching him like she’d always been there. Like she belonged there.
He said something I didn’t catch, and she laughed again.
That used to be Mom.
The thought came quietly, but it didn’t leave.
“Harper?”
I blinked, realizing they were both looking at me now.
My dad smiled. “Hey. How was school?”
“Fine,” I said quickly. “I’m just going to change.”
I shifted my bag higher on my shoulder and turned toward the stairs before the conversation could stretch into something more.
“Harper, wait.”
I paused.
There was a slight hesitation in her voice.
I turned back.
She stepped a little closer, her hands loosely clasped. “I was thinking maybe we could have dinner together tonight. All of us.”
There was something hopeful in her expression. Something that made it harder to say no.
But I still did.
“I have a lot of work,” I said, forcing a small smile. “I’ll just eat in my room.”
Her smile faltered, just for a second. “Oh. Okay. That’s fine.”
“Maybe another time,” she added.
“Yeah,” I said softly. “Maybe.”
I turned before they could say anything else and went upstairs.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
By the time I reached my room, I closed the door and leaned against it, exhaling slowly.
I should’ve left it at that.
But a few minutes later, guilt started to creep in.
She hadn’t done anything wrong.
She’d tried. And I’d shut her out.
I pushed off the door and stepped back into the hallway, moving quieter this time as I made my way down the stairs.
Their voices carried up.
“I think she hates me.”
I froze.
Claire.
Her voice was softer now. Uncertain.
“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” she continued. “I don’t want to push too much, but I don’t want to feel distant either. And every time I think we’re getting somewhere, she just… pulls away.”
There was a pause.
My dad’s voice followed, calmly. “She doesn’t hate you.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do.”
Another pause.
“She’s been through a lot,” he said. “It’s not easy for her.”
“I know,” Claire replied quietly. “I just don’t want to be someone she resents.”
“You won’t be.”
There was movement. A soft laugh.
I leaned slightly, just enough to see into the kitchen.
My dad reached for her and pulled her closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.
She smiled against him, her hand resting lightly on his chest, and he said something that made her laugh again.
It looked… easy.
Natural.
And for a moment, everything blurred.
Because it wasn’t just them I saw.
It was me.
And Tyler.
A version of us that didn’t feel so uncertain. A version where I wasn’t constantly stepping back, hesitating, telling myself there was still time.
My chest tightened.
What if that was how things slipped away?
Not all at once.
Just slowly.
Through waiting too long.
Through holding back when you didn’t need to.
Through thinking you had more time than you actually did.
I stepped back before they could notice me and returned to my room, closing the door a little faster this time.
I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my hands.
Tyler had been different today.
Distracted. Distant. And I’d felt it.
I’d tried to ignore it.
But now it sat there in my chest, impossible to push away.
What if he was already pulling back?
The thought landed harder than I expected.
No.
I shook my head, pushing to my feet.
I wasn’t going to let that happen.
Not without trying.
If I wanted him, then I needed to stop acting like I didn’t.
I got to school earlier than usual.
The halls were quiet, the kind of quiet that made every small sound feel louder. Lockers opening. Footsteps echoing faintly in the distance.
I slipped into my seat, my eyes drifting to the door without meaning to.
He wasn’t here yet.
That was fine.
I just needed a minute.
“Harper?”
I looked up.
Mark dropped into the seat beside me, a small smile on his face. “You’re here early.”
“Couldn’t sleep. Woke up early,,” I said with a shrug.
He studied me for a second. “You okay?”
I hesitated. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
I glanced down briefly before meeting his eyes again. “Do you think it’s a bad idea to get into something… when things are still kind of fresh?”
“With Tyler?” he asked gently.
I nodded.
“I just don’t want to lose him,” I admitted.
Mark leaned back slightly, considering.
“You know this is a little weird for me, right?” he said.
“I know,” I said quickly. “You know what, just forget I—”
“No,” he cut in. “It is weird. But I’m glad you asked.”
I blinked.
He gave a small shrug. “At least it means you care enough to think about it.”
Guilt flickered through me.
“But honestly?” he continued. “Don’t hold back because of me. I meant what I said before. I want you to be happy.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I am.”
Something in my chest loosened.
“Thank you,” I said softly.
He nodded, then stood. “Anytime.”
I watched him walk away, then turned my attention back to the door.
A few minutes later, Tyler walked in. And just like that, everything else faded.
He looked tired, same as yesterday.
There were shadows under his eyes, and his expression was more serious than usual, like something was still sitting on his mind.
Before I could think twice, I stood.
“Tyler,” I said, stepping into his path. “Can we talk?”
He paused, looking at me for a second. “Yeah. Sure.”
I reached for his hand without thinking and pulled him toward the hallway.
“Harper—”
“Just come with me,” I said softly.
He didn’t resist.
We moved down the hall quickly, my heart pounding louder with every step, until I pushed open the door to the media room.
It was empty.
I let go of his hand and turned to face him.
For the next few seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he did.
“About yesterday,” he started. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s okay,” I said quickly.
He stopped.
“It really is,” I added. “You don’t have to explain.”
That wasn’t why I brought him here.
I took a breath, trying to steady myself.
“I was thinking,” I began, my fingers twisting together slightly, “maybe we could go out.”
He frowned a little. “Go out?”
“Like a date,” I said, my cheeks warming. “A real one. Our first official one.”
The words hung there.
He didn’t answer right away.
Something about that made my chest tighten.
“I’d like that,” he said finally.
Relief flickered.
“But I can’t.”
It faded just as fast.
“What?” I asked quietly.
“I’ve got practice,” he said. “The Westbrook game that got moved. It’s next Monday.”
“You can’t even play,” I said gently. “Your shoulder—”
“Coach still wants me there,” he replied quickly.
It felt rehearsed. Almost like an excuse.
“But we still have the weekend,” I said. “Saturday or Sunday. We can—”
“Harper—”
“I know I’ve been the one holding back,” I cut in quickly, the words coming out faster now. “I know I’ve been the one saying we should slow down and keep our distance, but I don’t want that anymore.”
He went still.
“I don’t want to keep pretending this is something it’s not,” I continued, my voice softer now but sure. “Because it’s not nothing. And I don’t want to lose you because I'm too scared and focused on what everyone else would think, instead of how happy we could be.”
My heart was racing.
“I want this,” I continued. “I want you.”
His expression shifted, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.
“So…” I took a small breath, stepping closer. “Will you date me, Tyler Mercer? Will you be my boyfriend?”
Silence.
Just for a second.
But it felt like longer.
He hesitated.
And somehow, I already knew what he was going to say.
“I can’t,” he said.
The words landed before I could brace for them.
“I’m sorry. I just… can’t.”
Everything in me stilled.
“Oh.”
That was all I managed, even as my chest tightened and my eyes started to burn.