Chapter 73 HARPER
“I’m so sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have left you alone in the middle of all that chaos.”
Mark spoke before I could even form the apology burning at the back of my throat. He pressed his forehead gently to mine, warm and familiar, his hands cupping my cheeks like I was something fragile.
“I was so worried about you, baby.”
My throat burned. My chest tightened painfully at the edge in his voice.
He was the one who’d gotten hurt. He was the one with bruises blooming across his skin and his arm wrapped thickly in gauze. Yet I’d left him.
I’d left him for Tyler.
And if Mark hadn’t stepped in when that bottle flew, Tyler might have been in far worse condition than he already was. Still—God help me—I’d spent the entire night worrying about Tyler instead of the guy holding me now.
I really was the worst girlfriend alive.
“I should be the one apologizing,” I choked out, tears spilling despite my efforts to hold them back. “I shouldn’t have left the party without you. I should’ve stayed. Or called an ambulance. Or at least waited until you woke up. But Peter…” My voice cracked. “Peter told me they’d given you painkillers and that you were asleep, so I told Tyler—”
“Tyler?”
Mark’s thumb brushed the tears from my cheek as he tilted my face up, forcing me to meet his eyes. There was no anger there—only confusion, edged with concern.
“It was Tyler who took you out of the party?”
My mouth went dry. My heart kicked hard against my ribs, half from guilt, half from fear of how he might react.
I nodded slowly.
“He made us leave before anyone could hurt me,” I said. “But… he dropped me at your place afterward. I just wanted to check on you. When I saw you were asleep, I left.”
Mark exhaled, relief softening his shoulders as he pulled me into a hug.
“I guess I owe him a thank you,” he murmured. “I’m glad you didn’t get hurt. I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if something happened to you.”
“Mark—” I cried into his chest, my voice muffled.
I cared about him. I really did. When that bottle hit his arm, fear had ripped through me so sharply I’d almost screamed. But the way he wanted me to feel—the way I should feel—wasn’t there.
It wasn’t fair to him.
It wasn’t fair to us.
He was my boyfriend, and yet my thoughts kept circling another guy like a bad habit I couldn’t break. Guilt gnawed at me until it felt physical, a dull ache behind my ribs.
I didn’t know how to tell him. So instead, I let the pain eat at me while I cried, and Mark held me tighter for reasons completely opposite to mine.
“It’s okay, babe,” he said softly. “If you keep crying like this, you’re going to make yourself sick.”
He eased me back just enough to look at my face, his hands sliding to my arms. He smiled gently, brushing his thumb beneath my eye.
“You’re cute when you cry,” he added with a soft laugh. “But I’d rather see you smiling. It makes my whole day brighter.”
I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, forcing myself to breathe, to steady my racing thoughts.
I had to tell him. I couldn’t keep doing this.
“Mark—”
“I know what’ll cheer you up.”
Before I could stop him—or ask what he meant—his lips pressed against mine.
His hand settled at the small of my back, the other curving gently around my neck, drawing me closer. I leaned into him automatically, welcoming the familiarity, the way he always handled me like I mattered. His lips were soft, careful, patient.
For a moment, the guilt dulled.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer when he started to pull back, silently urging him to continue. If I just tried harder—if I gave this everything—maybe something would finally spark.
Our mouths moved together in practiced rhythm, tongues brushing, the kiss deepening until it felt instinctive, almost desperate. Heat curled low in my stomach, my body responding even as my heart lagged behind.
My body wanted him. But my heart stayed quiet.
And that terrified me.
I broke away just as a throat cleared loudly behind us.
“I thought I ordered you lot out of my gym,” Coach Turner barked. “You’re not supposed to be on school grounds during break. Make yourselves scarce unless you want me locking you both in here.”
Mark smiled sheepishly, squeezing my hand. “Sorry, Coach.”
Once we were safely inside his car, he leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek.
“Coach is definitely giving me extra drills for that,” he chuckled. “Worth it, though.”
I couldn’t bring myself to smile back.
“Did you guys get in trouble for the fight?” I asked.
He laughed louder than I expected. “Oh yeah. Big time.”
My stomach sank.
“So…what was the punishment?”
“No Christmas holiday.”
I blinked. “What?”
He reached for my hand, lifting it to kiss my knuckles. “Yeah. Training on Christmas morning.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” he sighed, the excitement fading from his expression. “All I want is to spend every day with you, but there’s always something in the way.”
I didn’t say anything. My thoughts drifted, uninvited, to Tyler. Was he being punished too?
“Are you mad at me, babe?” Mark asked quietly.
My chest prickled painfully. “No. Never. I could never be mad at you.”
He smiled, brushing my hair behind my ear. “God, you’re perfect. I still can’t believe you agreed to date me.”
I forced a smile, nausea creeping up my throat.
“I promise,” he continued, oblivious, “right after training I’ll take you out. Dinner, a movie—whatever you want. We could even snuggle at your place and watch a Christmas movie.”
I bit down hard on my lip, my hand clenching my skirt as guilt surged again.
“Or,” he added, hopeful, “we could just go to your place right now and—”
“Mark!”
The word came out sharper than I meant. Pain flickered across his face as he froze.
“I—” I squeezed my eyes shut. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
He reached up gently, brushing away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen.
“Did I say something wrong?” he asked softly.
That almost broke me.
“No,” I whispered. “It’s not you. I’d love for you to stay over, but… I don’t live alone anymore.”
“Oh,” he said carefully. “Your parents?”
“No. My cousin. You’ve met him.”
His brow furrowed. “I have? I don’t remember you introducing me.”
“It’s… complicated,” I said quickly. “Can we talk about it later?”
He nodded without hesitation.
Of course he did.
God, he was trying so hard to love me right. And the truth sat heavy in my chest, demanding to be spoken.
He opened his mouth to speak again, but I cut in before I could lose my nerve.
“Mark,” I said, inhaling deeply. “We need to talk.”