By Harper's mother, who put me on the guest list before anyone could stop her. Who sent me a follow-up text three days ago asking if I had any dietary restrictions and whether I preferred red or white wine.
I didn't respond.
Because going to that wedding would mean seeing Harper. Talking to Harper. Admitting that I've spent the past eight days staring at video game wedding memorabilia and wondering if I made the worst mistake of my goddamn life.
"I can't go," I say finally.
"Why not?"
"Because I fired her. Called her a liar. I compared her to Isabelle." My voice drops. "I destroyed her, Roman. And I don't know how to fix that."
"You start by showing up."
"Showing up isn't enough."
"It's a start." Roman puts his hand on my shoulder. "Look, I'm not going to pretend to be a relationship expert. I spent years convinced I was too broken for anything real. But Calli—she saw through all that. She saw the parts of me I tried to hide, and she loved me anyway."
"That's different."
"How?"
"Because you didn't accuse Calli of corporate espionage and fire her at a public event."
"No, but I did plenty of other stupid shit. And she forgave me. Because that's what love is—choosing someone even when they're being an idiot."
"Harper doesn't love me anymore. Not after what I did."
"You don't know that."
"Yes, I do. Because I know what I said to her. I know how I looked at her. And I know that if someone did that to me, I'd never forgive them."
Roman is quiet for a moment.
"So what are you going to do? Just give up? Sign the divorce papers and pretend the past two months didn't happen?"
"It's the smart thing to do."
"It’s that Victor the Cowardly CEO thing to do.”
I snort, shrugging his hand from my shoulder.
My best friends mean the world to me. They have since Harvard Business School. But honestly, if I thought I could get away with decking them on a regular basis, I would risk the assault charges.
"I need to get back to work," I say, changing the subject.
"It's Saturday."
"Work doesn't care about weekends."
“Dude, come on?—“
"I'll see you at the rehearsal dinner next Friday. Congratulations on the rings. They're beautiful."
I walk away before he can argue, heading toward the subway that will take me back to the office.
Because work helps.
Work has always helped.
