Chapter 30 HARPER
We didn’t talk much after that. We didn’t need to. Sometimes silence was necessary to clear one’s thoughts—and right now, I welcomed it, needing to sort through the mess of voices and questions in my head.
I didn’t bother asking where we were going again until the city buildings started to fade behind us and the road opened up to the sound of crashing waves. The smell of saltwater hit my nose, mingling with the cries of seagulls echoing across the clear sky. My brows furrowed as I turned to him.
“The beach?”
“You wanted a day off—you’ve got a day off.”
He climbed out of the car, taking in a deep breath before strolling toward the waves. Having no choice, I went after him.
“You could’ve maybe asked where I wanted to go, since, you know, it’s ‘my’ day off.”
“Yeah, but you’re missing the part where I don’t actually care. I’m only doing this for my peace of mind,” he said, his back turned to me, one hand in his pocket.
I arched a brow. “Oh, wow. How generous of you.”
“Thank you,” he replied in a monotone.
My teeth gritted. “Why are you like this?”
He pretended not to hear me, crouching to retrieve something from the sand. When he stood upright again, a baby seashell was in his hand. He brushed away the debris, extending his palm for me to admire it.
“I love seashells. I love coming to the beach.” He crushed the seashell then, letting the particles fall back to the soil. “But lately, it’s hard to appreciate the beauty of these things. The same way I can’t notice the feelings of others around me—not when mine is constantly drowning out everyone else’s, reminding me of how much I’ve got to lose.”
Was this his way of opening up to me?
“I try to keep it under control,” he continued, gaze distant. “The rage, the pain, the voices—but it gets overwhelming.”
I stared, not sure what to say that wouldn’t ruin this vulnerable moment. Thankfully, it seemed like what he needed was a listening ear, not someone to chirp in, because he kept on going.
“Sometimes I feel like giving up—to burn all my memories of playing on the ice. But then, what would I be without it?”
The look he gave me was so sincere, my heart cracked open. The words I couldn’t form on my lips, I tried to express through my gaze. We stood there, eyes fixed on each other as if conversing through the silence, but I doubted he was taking in any of the encouragement I was trying to give him.
“It’s understandable to want a day off. I would if my client were someone with a temper like mine. Which is why I think just one day isn’t enough.” He tore his eyes from me, taking a step forward. “You weren’t meant for this, Harper. You’re kind, you’re patient, but all in all, you’re sentimental. What I need is someone cruel. Someone heartless. Someone who doesn’t give a shit about me—just the money, and to get the job done and leave. Maybe then, that kind of person could speed up the process.”
It dawned on me where he was going with this, and I didn’t like it one bit. I placed a hand on his shoulder, guiding him gently to turn around and face me.
“Tyler—”
“Harper,” he sighed, using his fingers to massage his forehead. “Look, I wouldn’t say we’re exactly friends, but in this one week, you’ve at least come close. Still, you were right about one thing: I’m not much different from Racquel. I could hurt you, like actually hurt you, when all you’re doing is just trying to help.”
“I’m not afraid—”
“Don’t do that.” He shook his head, backing away from me. “Don’t sound desperate—not for someone like me, someone you barely even know.”
The back of my throat burned, my chest tightening in with a tinge of fear. He couldn’t just open up to me now, then push me away.
“I can handle my mom. Hell, I’ll even put in a word to your mom that you did a great job. But I just didn't want to burden you. Just… walk away. I’ve tried yelling—threats. This time, I'm asking nicely. Please walk away.”
“That’s it? You’re just going to shut everyone out because you’re scared to let someone in?”
“Yes—and no.”
I waited for him to explain, but he stood quietly, watching the waters lap at his feet, like he’d zoned out.
“Tyler!” I snapped. His head whirled around in my direction, eyes blinking back to the present.
“What?”
“Could you at least tell me why you’re shutting people out? We’re all just trying to help you.”
“That’s the point.” He tilted his head to the side, eyeing me. “Aren’t you supposed to be the nerd of the class?”
A muscle ticked in my jaw. I stared him down, and he held up his hand placatingly.
“I don’t get how you don’t see that I’m trying to be a good person here—make up for my mistakes.”
“Enlighten me.”
He sighed. “Harper, I don’t want to let anyone I care about in—not because I’m scared. Because I want, when everything goes to hell, to have no one other than myself to blame.”
I lifted my chin, unable to resist the urge. “But you don’t care about me.”
He turned to glance at me, then looked away without saying a word in disagreement. Ouch.
“I’ve got your things in the car. Just tell me your house address and I’ll drop you off."
“No. You’ve done enough already. I’ll find my way home myself.”
I made to move past him, but he latched onto my arm, stopping me in my tracks.
“Don’t walk away from me.”
I yanked my hand out of his grip. “And who do you think you are, telling me what I should or shouldn’t do? I thought you wanted me to walk away?”
“I meant quit,” he shot back. “Not storm off in anger without a damn plan on how you’ll get back to town.”
“So? Why do you care?”
“I don’t. Stop repeating the fucking question, because I don’t.”
“Exactly. Then don’t bother stopping me again.”
My eyes burned as I walked away, the sand making it difficult to put enough distance between us.
He wanted someone cruel and heartless? Then fine. That’s exactly what I’d become—cruel and heartless.