“Straight from the tub.”
I take a big spoonful of the frozen brown goodness. The cold bites into the roof of my mouth, making my eyes water. Harper just watches me. Waiting. She has two methods of getting people to talk—the first being to talkatthem until they talk back, or this one. Waiting people out until they’re ready to talk. Awkward silences don’t exist around her.
I know she’s waiting for me to say something, to spill the events that lead up to this emergency ice cream meeting, but the words are stuck in my throat. I feel a stupid sense of protectiveness towards Elias and his secret—not that I even know the full extent of the secret. But for some reason, I cannot bring myself to share the details. But Harper is looking at me like she’s ready to jump down my throat and pull the words out herself, so I have to say something.
“I don’t know if I can trust him,” I finally confess. The words scrape on the way out, catching on something inside my throat.
Harper grabs a mouthful of ice cream and scoots her chair closer to mine, resting her icy hand on my bare knee.
“That’s a lie, I’m sorry,” I admit, tears brimming behind my lashes. “He’s involved in some stuff. Some stuff that should be… bad. But it doesn’t feel bad?”
“Oh, babe.” She pulls me in for a hug.
My head falls against her shoulder; she smooths my hair with one hand and gently rubs my back with the other. The repetitive motion soothes me, like she’s untangling all the knots in my chest, one slow stroke at a time.
“Does this have anything to do with what you’re running from?” she asks.
I release a breath as sobs wrack my body. Sobs for the life I’ve been trying to hide. Sobs for Katherine. The name feels like the ghost of a girl who existed before everything broke.
“I could see it in your eyes the moment I met you at the bar,” Harper says gently, smoothing my hair. “You were homeless, you were afraid of every person who moved behind you. You looked no one directly in the eye. You don’t need to tell me for me to know that you were running from someone.”
My stomach drops, and I bury my face into her shoulder. All this time, I thought I was hiding it well. All this time, I thought I was convincing people that Kat was just… Kat.
“I don’t know what Elias is involved in. I don’t need to know either. But I know that he is nothim…whoever it is you’re running from.”
The sobs come harder now as my chest constricts. I feel the weight of everything—my entire life on my shoulders. The weight of the pain and hurt.
Harper tilts my head up and uses the back of her hand to wipe away my tears. “You don’t need to tell me what happened, you don’t owe me that—you don’t oweanyonethat. But as your best friend, I owe you the truth,” she pauses, and her voice softens. “I can sit here and agree with you that he’s bad if that’s what you want. But I don’t believe that… and I don’t think you do either.”
Her eyes search mine for confirmation, but I look away, the feeling of vulnerability too much to bear.
“He looks at you like you’re the reason for the air that he breathes.” She gives my knee a small squeeze. “When we’re on stage, I see the way he looks. Not at me, not at the band. At you.”
Images flash through my mind. The stage lights, the crowd screaming, and Elias standing in the back of the room watching me as if we’re the only two people there.
“But how do I know he’s not going to hurt me?” The question falls flat, devoid of any genuine sentiment, because we both know the answer.
Harper studies me carefully. “Kat, anyone can hurt you.”
The frankness in her tone makes me blink. Her eyes search mine before continuing.
“That’s the risk with loving someone. But there’s a difference between someone who might hurt you… and Elias. Do you truly believe he has the capability to hurt you?”
My mouth opens slightly, ready to say yes out of instinct. Ready to agree to something I know in my heart isn’t true. Ready to keep holding onto the version of the world that keeps me safe. But the word gets caught in my throat. I try to force the answer I should give, but it sticks. Because it wouldn’t be the truth. The truth is…
I don’t.
“I thought so.” She gives me a playful shove.
The truth is, I have never felt safer than I have when I’m with Elias. The way he holds me makes me feel untouchable, like if the world were on fire, I would remain unburnt. That if everything were to come crashing down around me, he would protect me. But safety is a dangerous feeling when you survive what I have.
“I’m scared,” I confess quietly.
She pulls me in for another hug, this one tighter than the others.
“Oh, Kat, it’s okay. Love is scary. It’s even scarier when you have what you have on the line. But it’s so worth it.”
I ignore the four-letter word she just used as she gives me one last squeeze, my ribs tightening together with the force, and she sits back in her chair.
