Page 213 of On the Breakaway

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit, Harp.” I cross my arms. “I’ve known you too long for you to be able to successfully lie to me. You’re shit at it.”

“We can talk about it later.”

“No,” Wesley cuts in. “I’m sick of all this ‘we’ll talk about it later’ bullshit we’ve all been doing for months. We’ve been avoiding hard conversations too much.”

“I’m getting divorced. Okay?” Harper slams her cup down. “I’m not happily married. I’m not in a perfect relationship. I’m in no relationship at all. Are you happy now?”

She’s been with James since they were fifteen. They just got married last year. They were supposed to be forever.

“I had no idea.” Wesley hugs her, but Harper’s arms hang at her side.

“I didn’t think…” I trail off, having no idea what to say to someone whose entire life is being turned upside down. “Are you okay?”

She snorts, then her eyes start to water. “Not really.”

This time, when we reach for her, she hugs us back, all four of our tangled limbs trying to provide comfort.

“What did he do?” Wesley asks the question I’d been thinking.

There’s no world in which this divorce is because of a mistake Harper made. She’s given James everything for years.

“Nothing. It isn’t some big cheating scandal or a lie we can’t come back from. He just did nothing. Nothing to save us. Nothing to show me he even wanted to try. So, I finally had the papers drawn up.”

“It’s been that bad for that long?” Sloane’s brows shoot up.

“Yeah, the divorce is new. The marriage has been over for a while. I just didn’t want to face it.”

“I’m sorry, Harper,” Sloane says, squeezing her hand.

“You know what’s best for you, and if that’s this divorce, then we’ve got you,” I say, making sure she knows that we’re here for her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Wesley asks.

“Not really. Not yet.” Harper shakes her head, and I notice her hand shaking slightly at her side.

“So we’re back to that whole ‘talk about it later’ thing?” I tease, breaking the ice.

“Yeah, I’d rather focus on being happy for you,” Harper says, and I can see in her eyes how much she means it.

“And happy for Wesley because her new apartment with Nathan is so much nicer than this place.”

“Hey! I love it here.” Wesley pinches me.

“It’s small and dark.”

“It’s homey.”

“Sure, we can call it that.”

“Says the woman with a velvet couch,” Sloane adds in.

Harper grins, and Wesley winks at me because, without either of us saying a word, that is what we both were trying to make happen.

“I like my velvet couch.” I toss a marker at Sloane.

“So did everyone,” she grins widely, “in the seventies.”