Chapter 93 HARPER
I hadn’t left my room in over two days. The sun had risen and fallen without me noticing, the hours stretching in a haze of quiet and ache. My body still ached from Sam’s last blow, the memory of it pressed into my muscles and my skin. Each movement reminded me of how vulnerable I had been, how easily everything had spun out of control. My shoulder throbbed when I shifted, my neck burned where his hand had left its mark, and my chest tightened with every breath.
I had avoided everyone, not out of malice, but from sheer exhaustion. Even Mark had tried to reach me. He had called when he was discharged from the hospital, and I’d told him not to come. I told him I was sick, weak, too fragile, and that I didn’t want to pass anything along. He’d hesitated on the phone, his voice a mixture of concern and restrained frustration, but he hadn’t shown up. That was proof enough. He was mad. We had practically broken up, though neither of us had said it aloud. It lingered in the silence that stretched between our last conversation, heavier than any words.
The room was dim, the curtains drawn against the weak winter sun. Outside, the muffled sounds of life and chaos pressed through the walls. Sam had invited his friends over, and I could hear them laughing, the clink of bottles, the low bass of music vibrating through the floorboards. I had curled myself into a ball on my bed, pulled the blanket tight around my shoulders, and pretended that none of it existed. My phone lay beside me, dark and silent, but I kept glancing at it as though waiting for it to spring to life. I wasn’t sure what I wanted. I just knew that if anyone came knocking, I wasn’t ready.
And yet, the buzzing started, slicing through my thoughts. My phone rang, a name flashing on the screen that made my chest tighten. Mrs. Rose Mercer. I almost didn’t pick it up. She never called. She usually checked in only with my mom. The fact that she was calling now made my pulse spike. Maybe she wanted to ask why I hadn’t come for the session. I might as well use the opportunity to quit. I pressed the button anyway, holding the phone to my ear like it might bite.
“Harper?” Her voice was tighter than usual, layered with urgency. “It’s Tyler. He… he hasn't been himself since this morning.”
I froze. My first instinct was to end the call. I didn’t want to hear anything that would make me go to him. I was better off not knowing, yet I found myself responding.
“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, though I was trembling inside.
“He’s in pain,” Mrs. Mercer said quickly, her tone laced with fear. “He’s complaining of stiffness in his hands and pain in his shoulder. I asked if he’d hurt it somewhere, and he admitted he stopped doing the exercises because he said he was waiting for you. Harper, he needs you.”
The words echoed in my head, bouncing against the ache and shame I’d been nursing silently.
Waiting for me.
Despite everything, he’d been waiting for me, and now he was hurting because I hadn’t come.
I swallowed. I didn’t want to go. I wanted to stay, to pretend the world outside my room didn’t exist, but the idea of Tyler in pain gnawed at me. Every rational part of me screamed to leave him, to stay safe, to hide—but my heart wouldn’t let me. I pressed my lips together, drew in a shaky breath, and whispered, “I’ll be right there.”
Mrs. Mercer’s relief was audible as she let out a soft exhale. “Thank you, Harper. You don’t know how much this means. Be careful, please.”
I ended the call and stared at the blank wall for a moment, feeling the weight of my decision settle on my shoulders. I would have to face the world outside my room. I would have to face Tyler.
I rose from the bed, moving slowly, my limbs stiff and aching, my body protesting each step. I splashed cold water on my face and dabbed on a thin layer of makeup, just enough to mask the bruises and the paleness that had taken over me. I dressed quickly, pulling on a coat heavy enough to shield me from the cold as I stepped into the living room.
Sam was sprawled on the couch, his friends laughing around him, bottles clinking and music pulsing in the background. My stomach knotted, and I clenched my fists at my sides.
“I’m going out for a bit,” I said, trying to sound casual, though the words felt hollow.
Sam’s head shot up. “Where? Don’t even think about going around running your mouth.”
“I’m just… stepping out,” I replied, my voice tighter than I intended.
“You better not say a word,” he warned, the threat in his voice unmistakable. “Or you’ll regret it.”
I nodded without answering and left quickly, pulling my coat tighter around me as I stepped into the quiet street and raised a hand for a cab. The cold bit at my cheeks and fingers, but it barely registered. It was nothing compared to the storm brewing in my chest. Fear, guilt, and a thin, stubborn hope twisted together with every step forward. Hope that he had really been waiting.
The drive felt endless. Streetlights blurred past the window as I stared at my reflection in the glass, pale and hollow-eyed, the makeup doing its best and failing anyway. I prayed silently that no one would notice.
By the time the cab pulled up in front of the Mercer house, my palms were damp and my breathing uneven.
The mansion loomed quietly, lights glowing warm behind tall windows. It looked untouched by the cold, untouched by any pain. I paid the driver and stepped out, pausing with my heart hammering against my ribs as the gates opened for me.
Mrs. Mercer’s face flashed with relief the moment her eyes landed on me.
“Harper. Thank God,” she said softly, cleaning her hands on her apron to give me a hug. “He’s upstairs. He hasn’t eaten breakfast and has been refusing lunch since he returned from the cabin. He hasn’t really moved much at all.”
I nodded, unable to trust my own voice, and climbed the stairs on legs that felt too heavy to lift. Each step brought the sound closer. A faint shift of sheets. A low, strained groan that made my chest tighten painfully.
I stopped outside his bedroom door.
My hand hovered over the handle, trembling. This was the moment I could still turn back. I could pretend I had come, pretend I had tried, and disappear again. But then I heard his faint breathing, ragged and strained, like the pain was sitting right beneath his skin.
I pushed the door open.
Tyler lay on the bed with his back turned to me, blankets tangled around his legs. His injured shoulder sat angled up awkwardly in the sling, while his good hand clenched the sheets as if trying to hold himself together by force alone. He shifted slightly and hissed under his breath.
“Tyler,” I said quietly.
He froze.
Then he turned, slow and careful, and when his eyes found me, something in his expression broke open. Relief flashed first, raw and unguarded, followed immediately by something darker, heavier.
“Harper,” he said, his voice rough, like it hurt to use it.
I took a few steps closer, my pulse roaring in my ears. “Your mom called. She said you were in pain.”
He nodded once, barely. “I was waiting.”
The words hit harder than anything else. Waiting. Still.
I knelt beside the bed, close enough now to see the tension in his jaw, the strain in his posture. And then his gaze shifted.
It dropped to my neck.
His eyes narrowed, tracking the bruise I’d tried to hide, then the faint discoloration along my cheek. The anger that flared in his expression was immediate and terrifying in its intensity.
He reached out before stopping himself, his hand hovering inches from my skin.
“Who did this to you?” he asked, his voice low and shaking with fury.
I froze, caught between the urge to lie and the weight of being seen. Truly seen.
“It’s nothing,” I whispered. “I’m fine.”
His jaw tightened. “No, you’re not.”
I looked away, my chest burning, my throat closing around the truth I couldn't say. Silence had been my armor for these past few days. But standing here, under his gaze, it felt impossible to keep pretending.
He leaned forward slightly, as if he'd immediately forgotten about his pain, eyes locked on mine.
“Harper,” he said again, voice harder now, like he was bracing himself for the answer. “Who did this to you?”