Chapter 76 TYLER
Move on?
The words lodged themselves in my throat, heavy and disorienting, like I’d swallowed something I wasn’t meant to. My confession was still hanging in the air, unfinished and suddenly fragile, as my brain tried to make sense of the two words she’d thrown at me.
‘Move on.’
My heart tightened painfully in my chest as her voice replayed over and over in my head. I tilted my head slightly, confusion washing over me so hard it felt like my mind had momentarily lost its grip on the English language.
“You’re… moving on from me?” I asked.
She blinked, then shook her head as if snapping herself awake. “No, I mean—wait. Hold on. Did you just say you like me?”
Normally, I would’ve taken that as my cue. Normally, I would’ve leaned into it, said exactly what I felt, consequences be damned. But my brain was still stuck tripping over the words from earlier, replaying them like a scratched CD.
‘.. I'm ready to move on from you.’
I shrugged, forcing my shoulders loose, forcing my expression into something casual. Something safe. “Yeah. I like you, Harper,” I said lightly. “I’m your best friend, remember? I just… wanted to remind you. So you don’t feel like my walls apply to you too.”
It was a half-truth, and we both knew it.
Her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing slightly as she nodded, like she was carefully filing my words away. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Sorry if it came out wrong.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “It’s cool.”
“Yeah.”
Silence settled between us, thick and uncomfortable. She refused to meet my eyes, bouncing slightly on her heels like she suddenly didn’t know what to do with her body. Meanwhile, I found myself staring at the snow gathering at our feet, white flakes clinging to the hem of my pajama pants.
The cold finally registered. It was like someone had ripped away an invisible blanket I hadn’t realized I was wearing. Goosebumps rose along my bare arms, the bite of the air sinking deep into my skin. But even then, all I could think about was what she’d meant.
Moving on.
“So, um… what you said,” I started, finally breaking the silence.
She cut me off immediately, shaking her head. “Look, Tyler. This thing between me and you—whatever it is—I can’t explain it. But it’s messing with my head in ways you have no idea about.”
Her voice cracked just slightly, and she pressed on like she was afraid if she stopped, she wouldn’t be able to continue.
“That’s why I’m here,” she said. “I just want to get this off my chest so I can actually move on, okay?”
My brows knit together. What the hell was she talking about? Was she saying what I thought she was saying? Or was I reading into it the way I always did when it came to her?
“I—I don’t even know what or how I’m supposed to say this,” she continued, frustration bleeding into her tone as her gaze locked onto mine. She shoved her hands into the pockets of the jacket I’d given her, pulling it tighter around herself. “Tyler, you know I’m with Mark now. I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t mention the whole best-friend thing around him.”
I arched a brow. “I doubt Mark would care about that.”
“I know,” she said quickly. “It’s not for his sake. It’s for… mine.”
I didn’t bother hiding my confusion. “I don’t get it.”
She sucked in a deep breath, eyes squeezing shut before she exhaled, her breath puffing out in short bursts of white. “I just want us to go back to being… regular friends,” she said. “No weird vibes. No tension. No getting all up in each other’s business. I don’t want to feel this connected to anyone except my boyfriend, okay? That’s what I’m trying to say.”
It felt like she was speaking another language entirely. And yet, every syllable landed squarely in my chest, tightening something there that already felt too strained.
I kept my expression neutral. Years of practice had taught me how to do that. “But what does that have to do with moving on from me?”
She threw her hands up with an exasperated huff. “I don’t know, Tyler! I don’t even know why I’m here right now. I don’t understand this stupid guilt that keeps building up in my chest. I don’t get how everything I planned to say just flew straight out the window the moment you walked out of your house.”
“Hey,” I said softly, stepping closer. “It’s okay. I get it. You don’t have to explain.”
I reached for her, instinctively wanting to pull her into a hug.
She stepped back.
I froze, my hand dropping back to my side. “Did I say something wrong?” I asked, frustration creeping in despite my effort to keep calm. “Did I do something that pissed you off?”
She just stared at me.
Her eyes flickered with too many emotions to track—anger, pain, guilt, something that looked dangerously close to apology—before settling into something unreadable. She took another step back, shaking her head slowly.
“You know what?” she said. “Forget everything I said. I’m probably just exhausted.”
Something about the way she said it made my chest ache.
“It’s late,” I said. “You could stay over.”
“No,” she replied immediately. Then she hesitated. “I mean… I’d love to, but—Mark.”
“He’d understand,” I said. “I know Mark. He’s not that type of boyfriend.”
She looked cornered, her shoulders tightening. “Yes. But I’d rather he come pick me up. He’s the one I’m dating, after all.”
A sharp pang of jealousy flared in my chest, hot and unwelcome. I shoved it down.
“Fine,” I said. “Then I’ll wait here until he comes for you.”
“You’ll freeze,” she pointed out, glancing at my arms. “You’ve already got goosebumps.”
I held her gaze, refusing to look away. “I can handle the cold. Just fucking call him.”
She dug around in her pocket, pulled out her phone, and turned her back to me like she didn’t want me overhearing the conversation. I rolled my eyes.
As if I wanted to listen to Mark talk to her in that nauseatingly soft voice while I stood out here freezing my ass off.
Five minutes passed.
She still hadn’t said a word.
Suspicion crept in before I could stop it. I stepped forward and gently plucked the phone from her hand.
“Harper,” I said quietly. “Your phone’s dead.”
The sting in my chest sharpened. Was it really that bad now? Had things shifted so much between us that she’d rather fake a call than spend the night under my roof?
She opened her mouth to say something—but froze.
The gate behind me creaked open.
“Do you two have any idea what time it is?” my mom asked, stepping out into the cold and rubbing her hands together.
“Sorry, Mrs—Rose,” Harper said quickly, sounding on the verge of tears.
My chest tightened.
“Harper, sweetheart,” my mom said gently. “Why are you still outside at this hour? If you wanted to see Tyler, you could’ve just come inside.”
Before I could speak, she turned her attention to me. “And you,” she added. “Why are you standing out here in just your pajamas?”
“We were just coming inside,” I said, my eyes lingering on Harper with worry before I turned back to my mom. “Is it okay if Harper spends the night? It’s too late for her to go home.”
Mom didn’t hesitate. She nodded, yawning as she turned back toward the house.
“Of course,” she said. “Harper’s always welcome, you know that. Don’t stand out here any longer. You’ll both catch a cold.”
I turned back to Harper. “You’re staying.”
She started to protest, but I grabbed her hand gently, pulling her along behind me.
“And whatever’s going on in that head of yours,” I added quietly, “you don’t have to tell me tonight. But you’re getting some sleep.”
The door closed behind us, cutting off the cold.
And for the first time since she’d said it, I wondered if moving on was something either of us was actually capable of.