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She hadn’t understood them last night, but now it made total sense.
“Are you okay?” Daniel said from behind her, and she felt his hand on her back. Harper wiped her mouth, flushed the toilet, and stood up. She was shaking.
“Are you sick?” he asked, rubbing his face to wake up.
She could barely make him out in the dim light, but she knew he was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen.
And he’d lied to her.
She had opened her heart—like a fool again—and let him in. Only to be played.
Again.
She began to wheeze as her chest tightened in anger and pain. “I have to go. Where’s my stuff?” She slammed on the lights and they both blinked and squinted, but Harper didn’t wait.
She ran from room to room finding her bra, dress, shoes, bags, phone.
“Harper. Stop,” he demanded. “What the hell is going on?”
She whirled on him. “No, Daniel. You fucking stop. You fucking stop all of this!”
He stared at her, all color draining from his face.
“What is this about?” His voice was dark.
She pointed out into the living room. “As if you don’t know. Go check your phone.”
She dressed while Daniel walked out of the room. He never returned. Harper walked past him as he stood staring at the phone, rubbing his face.
“Do not contact me again,” she said coldly, then walked out, wishing she could slam the fucking door.
Unfortunately, stupid hotel rooms didn’t allow you to do that, so she slapped her handbag uselessly against it and burst into tears.
