In Love with Lewis Prescott, page 23
I recognize his muttered words as the same ones I spoke to him the morning after we exchanged I love yous. My chest tightens. My heart is either shattering into a billion pieces or I’m about to have a coronary.
“I made a mistake,” he continues. “I let my feelings for you cloud my judgment. I shouldn’t have been open about who I am to your family. I should have just left the day of the wedding.”
My lips tremble as I try my hardest not to burst into tears.
“I know you didn’t mean for this to happen, Harper. But I can’t go through this again. My privacy means everything to me, and I can’t have someone in my life who’s going to compromise that, even if it wasn’t intentional.”
Despite the tears pooling in my eyes, I nod my understanding. For a minute we stand and look at each other.
I swallow back the sob I’m aching to let loose. “I’m sorry, Lewis.”
“Me too.” He clears his throat while looking down at me.
He starts to move his forearm like he’s going to reach for me, but then it drops back to his side. My entire body goes cold.
“Goodbye, Harper.”
When he walks past me, I don’t move or speak. I stay planted in that spot while listening to Lewis’s footsteps echo down the hall and out the front door. There’s a blast of shouts, but the door slams shut and the noise turns muffled. A second later I break.
* * *
“How are you holding up? You can be honest. It’s me, Harper.”
Naomi’s concerned tone as I speak to her on the phone is both a comfort and a curse. A comfort because knowing that she cares enough to call and check up on me while on her honeymoon means everything. It’s a curse because every time she checks up on me, it’s a reminder of what I lost.
I take a slow, quiet breath and focus on the yellow letters of the Glad You’re Here sign that hangs above the office building where I’m parked. When I don’t burst into tears, I count it as a win.
“You’ve said that every time you’ve called me. I’m fine, Naomi.”
Even I’m surprised at how composed I sound. My tone is steady and firm. I definitely don’t sound like the heartbroken mess that I am. I definitely don’t sound like I spent every night of the last two weeks crying myself to sleep.
“I don’t believe you,” Naomi says.
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you then,” I mutter.
“You need to talk about your feelings. It’s not good to—”
“No. I don’t,” I bite. “I’ve got a million other things on my mind. With the renovation done, I’m focused on decorating the house now. I’m upping my volunteer hours at Glad You’re Here too. And I’m looking into what kind of work I want to pursue. Did I tell you I’ve been thinking about consulting here in the Bay Area?”
A heavy sigh rockets from her end of the line. “Harper, I mean this in the most loving way, but will you drop the act already?”
“What act?”
“The ‘I’m above ever losing my shit over a guy’ act. You’ve pulled this before and I’ve let it slide, but not today.”
“Why not?” My voice betrays me by cracking on the last word. When my lips begin to tremble, I quickly pull them into my mouth and bite down.
“Harper.” She says my name so softly and lovingly, I can feel myself inching closer to breaking completely. “You’re the strongest person I know. No one keeps their cool in a crisis like you. I’ve always, always admired that about you. But you’re allowed to be sad and cry when you get your heart broken. You’re allow to hurt. You’re allowed to not be fine. It doesn’t make you weak or any less incredible.”
Like always, my cousin knows the exact right thing to say to cut through all my defenses. Her words are like some sort of emotional trigger. Like when a dog hears a high-pitched whistle and whines in terror. Instantly my throat aches and my nose burns.
“Fine, you’re right. I’m not okay, Naomi. I’m a fucking mess.” When I blink, tears cascade down my cheeks.
“Oh, Harper. I wish I could be there to hug you. I wish we were at my apartment right now eating cartons of ice cream and downing our weight in vodka.”
I let out a snotty chuckle while sitting in my car. “That’s a terrible idea. You’re such a lightweight you’d pass out after three shots.”
She laughs, which makes me laugh, then sob. For a minute I alternate between the two while Naomi listens patiently on her end of the line. I wipe at my face and check the time. Ten minutes before I’m due to go in and start my volunteer shift for the day. Better get all this crying out now.
“I wish you were here too.” I let out a shaky breath. “But you’re on your honeymoon. You should be skinny-dipping with Simon on a secluded beach somewhere, not consoling me over the phone.”
“Hey. You don’t get to tell me how to spend my honeymoon.”
Another watery chuckle falls from my lips. I reach over to my glove box and dig out a packet of tissues and wipe my face.
“I’m serious. You’ve called me every day since Lewis broke up with me. I appreciate it, but there’s nothing you can do. I just need to keep living my life. And you should focus on enjoying Turks and Caicos.”
“First of all, I can do both. I can have a lovely time here and still check in on you because you’re my cousin and best friend. If you’re not okay, then I’m not okay. I will always, always, always be here for you, whether you like it or not.”
A shaky smile tugs at my lips.
“And second, don’t talk like this is some average breakup. It’s not. Not even close. You were having a secret relationship with a TV star. And now you’re being hounded by paparazzi. That’s both traumatizing and upsetting.”
I glance around the parking lot, thankful that there don’t appear to be any photographers trailing me. It’s been two weeks since Lewis walked out on me, but paparazzi have still been camped outside my house, yelling questions every time I leave and snapping photos of me. Sometimes they trail me to the grocery store or to the Glad You’re Here office. The only time I’ve been able to lose them is when I drive into San Francisco. Invading my privacy is one thing, but there’s no way I would let them get near my family.
When they approach me, I never engage. I ignore them, but I don’t know how much longer I can keep up this silent facade. I know they won’t be around forever. As soon as the next juicy bit of celebrity gossip hits the news cycle, they’ll ditch me. But I don’t know when that’ll be. And having strangers accost me with questions about my personal life and my romantic relationship with Lewis while shoving a camera in my face rockets my anxiety level to the point where I have to do breathing exercises every time I walk into or out of my house just to calm myself.
“You’re right,” I finally say to Naomi. “This is a nightmare. But I don’t know how to fix it.”
“I can’t believe Lewis hung you out to dry like this. He left you to fend for yourself against the god-awful paparazzi,” Naomi mutters. “I mean, he has every right to be mad at them for acting like piranhas. I swear, they are the lowest of the low. And I even understand if he’s pissed at my mom for posting pics of the wedding on social media. She felt horrible for outing him when I told her what happened. But to take it out on you is so misguided. How does that make sense? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“It doesn’t matter.” My tone now sounds as meek and defeated as I feel. “It’s because of me that this all happened. Even though I didn’t personally participate in exposing him, I was connected to it. I know it was an accident, but it still hurt him. Misguided or not, it’s how he feels.”
A long pause follows. “You’re being entirely too mature and reasonable about this.”
“I definitely don’t feel like that. I’ve come so close to unblocking him and texting him, like, at least a dozen times.”
She makes a sympathetic noise.
“I just feel so sad and angry and broken right now.”
“Then act like it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Say exactly what you’re feeling, Harper. Look, I know that you’ve been going through the motions these past two weeks, trying to distract yourself with setting up the house and volunteering and planning your next career move,” Naomi says. “That’s all well and good, but you can’t ignore your emotions forever. You need to express them.”
“You sound like a therapist.”
“I’m married to one, so I’m probably gonna sound like this a lot.”
The start of a smile tugs at my lips, but it fades the moment I let myself think about just how hard I’ve been working to hide my emotions about my breakup with Lewis these past couple of weeks.
“I’m so fucking mad and hurt, Naomi.”
“That’s good. You have every right to be.”
I open my mouth a half dozen times, but nothing comes out. It’s like my brain is struggling to find the exact right words to express the emotions I’ve actively repressed for the past couple of weeks.
“I’m so pissed that he got mad at me for something that I didn’t do. And I’m hurt that he left instead of staying and trying to figure out a way to work through this.”
“That’s good, Harper. Really good.”
I pause to catch my breath. When my chest expands, it feels like my body is working to expend all this pain and sadness and anger with every word I speak, with every inhale and exhale.
“I’m mad that I let myself fall for him. I should have known better than to think I could have something lasting and meaningful with someone like him. And I’m pissed as hell that I believed him when he told me that he loved me and that we’d figure out a way for this—for us—to work. Clearly that was bullshit, given that he ditched me the second we hit a rough patch.”
Tears and snot drip down my face so fast, I can barely keep up even as I dab with tissue after tissue.
“I wish I’d never let him buy me that coffee. I wish I’d never let him move into my house. I wish I’d never kissed him. I wish I’d never told him I loved him. I wish... I wish...”
I stop just to let myself sob for a second.
“I wish I’d never met him.”
As the words fall from my trembling lips, my head spins. I wasn’t planning to say that. I wasn’t even thinking that.
But maybe there’s a reason I said it. Because maybe it’s true. Maybe I just didn’t realize it because I was holed up in my house, hiding away in a love bubble with Lewis for the past almost three months. Maybe because we spent all that time flirting and kissing and fucking and acting like hormonal teenagers, we were immune from reality and the everyday stresses of life. And when those finally hit us, we crumbled. We just weren’t meant to last outside the world we built together under that roof.
In that way, maybe Lewis was right. We’re from two different worlds. We could never make a relationship work.
Naomi doesn’t speak for a while. I’m guessing she’s processing my crying outburst.
“How do you feel?” she finally asks.
“Like I’ve been hit by a truck, but emotionally. If that makes sense.”
“It does.”
“Sorry I sounded like a maniac just now. It felt good to get that out, though.”
“Don’t ever apologize for saying how you feel, Harper, least of all to me. Don’t you remember how many times I’ve cried to you?”
“Thanks, Naomi.”
“It’ll get better. I promise it will.”
“I hope so,” I say, having zero faith that it actually will.
I check the time and see that I’m due inside in two minutes. “I have to go.”
“Okay, but you’re seeing Maren tonight, right?”
“Yeah, she’s coming to stay with me at the house so that I won’t be alone.”
“Good. We’ll be back in San Francisco Saturday night, and I want you come stay with us on Sunday.”
I bite back a groan. “I’m not a little kid you have to keep tabs on at all times.”
“That’s not how I mean for this to come off. I just miss my amazing cousin and I want to see her.”
My lips tremble at the sincerity in her tone, at how I can feel just how much she loves me in those few words. It makes me think of Lewis and how he doesn’t have anyone in his family he can count on like I do. I wonder if he has anyone in his life to help him right now...
That thought makes me ache for him, despite the way things ended between us.
Naomi and I exchange I love yous and hang up. I quickly clean up my face in the mirror, take a deep breath, and walk into the office.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lewis
“Good god. What the hell happened to you?”
The sound of Katie’s voice rings like a gong in my head. Then comes the jolt of pain shooting through my skull.
I groan into my pillow.
A cracking sound echoes in my ears, and I wince. That piercing sound definitely didn’t help my hangover-induced headache.
When I finally peel open my eyes, I shout into my pillow at the shock of sunlight. It burns through my eyeballs, setting my skull on fire.
“What the...”
“It’s called sunlight, Lewis. You look like you could use some.” Katie moves to yank open the set of blinds on the other window in my bedroom.
I mutter a string of profanities into the pillow while punching the one next to me. The mattress depresses at my feet. I roll over, thankful that I forgot to take off my shorts when I passed out last night after downing all the alcohol in my house. Katie’s like my big sister, and I’d die if she saw me naked.
“You auditioning to be a zombie extra on The Walking Dead or something? Gotta admit, that’s a bit of a step down for you. You’d for sure be an episode regular—come on now.”
“You’re hilarious,” I mutter into my pillow.
She smacks the back of my calf.
“Ow!” I jolt up from the bed like a fish flopping on dry land. I twist around and squint at her, my eyes burning as they adjust to the sunlight. “What the hell are you hitting me for?”
Her frown is lethal, just like I remember it. Although it’s been ages since she’s aimed it at me.
“What the hell is going on with you? You haven’t returned any of my messages or calls since you’ve been back in LA.”
“I’ve been busy.” I shove a pillow over my face, my head throbbing as I breathe through the thickness.
“Busy wallowing? Busy trying to drink yourself to death?”
“Sure.”
“Your current state wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that woman whose house you were photographed at in Half Moon Bay, would it?”
Just the mention of Harper has my chest threatening to implode.
Harper.
For the past two weeks, ever since I walked out on her, I’ve been like this. Missing her so bad that it feels like my heart’s been through a wood chipper. Feeling like I want to punch myself in the face when I think about how I made the biggest mistake of my life by leaving her...
I toss away the pillow, wincing when the brightness hits my face. “What are you doing here, Katie?” I ask, blatantly ignoring what she just asked me.
“See, I think that your sorry-ass condition has everything to do with your Half Moon Bay lady.”
I used to chuckle in amusement every time Katie did this to whatever jerk she was telling off. I normally love how she ignores every attempt at changing the subject and simply plows through with her questions. She’s like a police interrogator in the body of a makeup artist. Now that I’m on the receiving end of her pressing questions, though, I kind of hate it.
“Obviously something went down between you two, and it wasn’t pretty.”
My lips quiver even as I bite down to prevent the flow of tears. But it’s no use. They plummet down my bearded cheeks anyway.
“Lewis.” Katie’s soft tone catches me off guard. I finally look up at her, her face a blur. All I can make out is the bright pink hue of her hair. “I’m your friend. I can see you’re hurting. Talk to me.”
I force myself to sit up and tell her everything. How I randomly met Harper and decided to hide out at her house because she was kind and trustworthy. I tell Katie how I fell for her and how when things were winding down with the renovation, we confessed our feelings for each other and decided to give a relationship a shot, that we had even scheduled visits to see each other. I tell her about meeting Harper’s family and trusting them enough to tell them who I was. I tell her about the photos that Harper’s aunt shared on Facebook from her cousin’s wedding, outing me to the paparazzi. I tell her how ambushed and panicked I felt, how I lashed out at Harper, how I blamed her even though I knew deep down it wasn’t her fault. I tell her how it reminded me of my family betraying my trust. I tell her how it led to me abruptly ending things between us. I tell her how it took less than a day of being back in LA for me to realize what a mistake I made—that I wanted Harper back in my life again. I tell her how when I tried to call her to beg for another chance, it was too late. She had blocked me, and I had no idea how to get in touch with her. I tell her how broken I’ve felt ever since then, because I ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
Katie’s blue eyes go wider and wider as I reveal each detail. When I finish, her stony expression softens.
“Jesus, Lewis.”
The noise I make is something between a scoff and a disgusted laugh. “I don’t know what to do, Katie. Harper is the most brilliant, beautiful, badass person I’ve ever been with. I’m so in love with her. She actually believed in me, you know? She helped me realize I’m good enough to pursue projects I’m passionate about instead of the pretty boy/bad boy roles everyone else—even my own agent—tells me I should stick to. And it...it meant everything. She saw me for who I really am. She let me be myself without any pressure or expectation—and she actually liked that about me. And the way she treated me, the way that she welcomed me into her life...she made me feel like family...” I drift off when my voice starts to break, then quickly clear my throat. “I let my past fuck up my future with her. I can’t believe I did that.”
“I made a mistake,” he continues. “I let my feelings for you cloud my judgment. I shouldn’t have been open about who I am to your family. I should have just left the day of the wedding.”
My lips tremble as I try my hardest not to burst into tears.
“I know you didn’t mean for this to happen, Harper. But I can’t go through this again. My privacy means everything to me, and I can’t have someone in my life who’s going to compromise that, even if it wasn’t intentional.”
Despite the tears pooling in my eyes, I nod my understanding. For a minute we stand and look at each other.
I swallow back the sob I’m aching to let loose. “I’m sorry, Lewis.”
“Me too.” He clears his throat while looking down at me.
He starts to move his forearm like he’s going to reach for me, but then it drops back to his side. My entire body goes cold.
“Goodbye, Harper.”
When he walks past me, I don’t move or speak. I stay planted in that spot while listening to Lewis’s footsteps echo down the hall and out the front door. There’s a blast of shouts, but the door slams shut and the noise turns muffled. A second later I break.
* * *
“How are you holding up? You can be honest. It’s me, Harper.”
Naomi’s concerned tone as I speak to her on the phone is both a comfort and a curse. A comfort because knowing that she cares enough to call and check up on me while on her honeymoon means everything. It’s a curse because every time she checks up on me, it’s a reminder of what I lost.
I take a slow, quiet breath and focus on the yellow letters of the Glad You’re Here sign that hangs above the office building where I’m parked. When I don’t burst into tears, I count it as a win.
“You’ve said that every time you’ve called me. I’m fine, Naomi.”
Even I’m surprised at how composed I sound. My tone is steady and firm. I definitely don’t sound like the heartbroken mess that I am. I definitely don’t sound like I spent every night of the last two weeks crying myself to sleep.
“I don’t believe you,” Naomi says.
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you then,” I mutter.
“You need to talk about your feelings. It’s not good to—”
“No. I don’t,” I bite. “I’ve got a million other things on my mind. With the renovation done, I’m focused on decorating the house now. I’m upping my volunteer hours at Glad You’re Here too. And I’m looking into what kind of work I want to pursue. Did I tell you I’ve been thinking about consulting here in the Bay Area?”
A heavy sigh rockets from her end of the line. “Harper, I mean this in the most loving way, but will you drop the act already?”
“What act?”
“The ‘I’m above ever losing my shit over a guy’ act. You’ve pulled this before and I’ve let it slide, but not today.”
“Why not?” My voice betrays me by cracking on the last word. When my lips begin to tremble, I quickly pull them into my mouth and bite down.
“Harper.” She says my name so softly and lovingly, I can feel myself inching closer to breaking completely. “You’re the strongest person I know. No one keeps their cool in a crisis like you. I’ve always, always admired that about you. But you’re allowed to be sad and cry when you get your heart broken. You’re allow to hurt. You’re allowed to not be fine. It doesn’t make you weak or any less incredible.”
Like always, my cousin knows the exact right thing to say to cut through all my defenses. Her words are like some sort of emotional trigger. Like when a dog hears a high-pitched whistle and whines in terror. Instantly my throat aches and my nose burns.
“Fine, you’re right. I’m not okay, Naomi. I’m a fucking mess.” When I blink, tears cascade down my cheeks.
“Oh, Harper. I wish I could be there to hug you. I wish we were at my apartment right now eating cartons of ice cream and downing our weight in vodka.”
I let out a snotty chuckle while sitting in my car. “That’s a terrible idea. You’re such a lightweight you’d pass out after three shots.”
She laughs, which makes me laugh, then sob. For a minute I alternate between the two while Naomi listens patiently on her end of the line. I wipe at my face and check the time. Ten minutes before I’m due to go in and start my volunteer shift for the day. Better get all this crying out now.
“I wish you were here too.” I let out a shaky breath. “But you’re on your honeymoon. You should be skinny-dipping with Simon on a secluded beach somewhere, not consoling me over the phone.”
“Hey. You don’t get to tell me how to spend my honeymoon.”
Another watery chuckle falls from my lips. I reach over to my glove box and dig out a packet of tissues and wipe my face.
“I’m serious. You’ve called me every day since Lewis broke up with me. I appreciate it, but there’s nothing you can do. I just need to keep living my life. And you should focus on enjoying Turks and Caicos.”
“First of all, I can do both. I can have a lovely time here and still check in on you because you’re my cousin and best friend. If you’re not okay, then I’m not okay. I will always, always, always be here for you, whether you like it or not.”
A shaky smile tugs at my lips.
“And second, don’t talk like this is some average breakup. It’s not. Not even close. You were having a secret relationship with a TV star. And now you’re being hounded by paparazzi. That’s both traumatizing and upsetting.”
I glance around the parking lot, thankful that there don’t appear to be any photographers trailing me. It’s been two weeks since Lewis walked out on me, but paparazzi have still been camped outside my house, yelling questions every time I leave and snapping photos of me. Sometimes they trail me to the grocery store or to the Glad You’re Here office. The only time I’ve been able to lose them is when I drive into San Francisco. Invading my privacy is one thing, but there’s no way I would let them get near my family.
When they approach me, I never engage. I ignore them, but I don’t know how much longer I can keep up this silent facade. I know they won’t be around forever. As soon as the next juicy bit of celebrity gossip hits the news cycle, they’ll ditch me. But I don’t know when that’ll be. And having strangers accost me with questions about my personal life and my romantic relationship with Lewis while shoving a camera in my face rockets my anxiety level to the point where I have to do breathing exercises every time I walk into or out of my house just to calm myself.
“You’re right,” I finally say to Naomi. “This is a nightmare. But I don’t know how to fix it.”
“I can’t believe Lewis hung you out to dry like this. He left you to fend for yourself against the god-awful paparazzi,” Naomi mutters. “I mean, he has every right to be mad at them for acting like piranhas. I swear, they are the lowest of the low. And I even understand if he’s pissed at my mom for posting pics of the wedding on social media. She felt horrible for outing him when I told her what happened. But to take it out on you is so misguided. How does that make sense? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“It doesn’t matter.” My tone now sounds as meek and defeated as I feel. “It’s because of me that this all happened. Even though I didn’t personally participate in exposing him, I was connected to it. I know it was an accident, but it still hurt him. Misguided or not, it’s how he feels.”
A long pause follows. “You’re being entirely too mature and reasonable about this.”
“I definitely don’t feel like that. I’ve come so close to unblocking him and texting him, like, at least a dozen times.”
She makes a sympathetic noise.
“I just feel so sad and angry and broken right now.”
“Then act like it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Say exactly what you’re feeling, Harper. Look, I know that you’ve been going through the motions these past two weeks, trying to distract yourself with setting up the house and volunteering and planning your next career move,” Naomi says. “That’s all well and good, but you can’t ignore your emotions forever. You need to express them.”
“You sound like a therapist.”
“I’m married to one, so I’m probably gonna sound like this a lot.”
The start of a smile tugs at my lips, but it fades the moment I let myself think about just how hard I’ve been working to hide my emotions about my breakup with Lewis these past couple of weeks.
“I’m so fucking mad and hurt, Naomi.”
“That’s good. You have every right to be.”
I open my mouth a half dozen times, but nothing comes out. It’s like my brain is struggling to find the exact right words to express the emotions I’ve actively repressed for the past couple of weeks.
“I’m so pissed that he got mad at me for something that I didn’t do. And I’m hurt that he left instead of staying and trying to figure out a way to work through this.”
“That’s good, Harper. Really good.”
I pause to catch my breath. When my chest expands, it feels like my body is working to expend all this pain and sadness and anger with every word I speak, with every inhale and exhale.
“I’m mad that I let myself fall for him. I should have known better than to think I could have something lasting and meaningful with someone like him. And I’m pissed as hell that I believed him when he told me that he loved me and that we’d figure out a way for this—for us—to work. Clearly that was bullshit, given that he ditched me the second we hit a rough patch.”
Tears and snot drip down my face so fast, I can barely keep up even as I dab with tissue after tissue.
“I wish I’d never let him buy me that coffee. I wish I’d never let him move into my house. I wish I’d never kissed him. I wish I’d never told him I loved him. I wish... I wish...”
I stop just to let myself sob for a second.
“I wish I’d never met him.”
As the words fall from my trembling lips, my head spins. I wasn’t planning to say that. I wasn’t even thinking that.
But maybe there’s a reason I said it. Because maybe it’s true. Maybe I just didn’t realize it because I was holed up in my house, hiding away in a love bubble with Lewis for the past almost three months. Maybe because we spent all that time flirting and kissing and fucking and acting like hormonal teenagers, we were immune from reality and the everyday stresses of life. And when those finally hit us, we crumbled. We just weren’t meant to last outside the world we built together under that roof.
In that way, maybe Lewis was right. We’re from two different worlds. We could never make a relationship work.
Naomi doesn’t speak for a while. I’m guessing she’s processing my crying outburst.
“How do you feel?” she finally asks.
“Like I’ve been hit by a truck, but emotionally. If that makes sense.”
“It does.”
“Sorry I sounded like a maniac just now. It felt good to get that out, though.”
“Don’t ever apologize for saying how you feel, Harper, least of all to me. Don’t you remember how many times I’ve cried to you?”
“Thanks, Naomi.”
“It’ll get better. I promise it will.”
“I hope so,” I say, having zero faith that it actually will.
I check the time and see that I’m due inside in two minutes. “I have to go.”
“Okay, but you’re seeing Maren tonight, right?”
“Yeah, she’s coming to stay with me at the house so that I won’t be alone.”
“Good. We’ll be back in San Francisco Saturday night, and I want you come stay with us on Sunday.”
I bite back a groan. “I’m not a little kid you have to keep tabs on at all times.”
“That’s not how I mean for this to come off. I just miss my amazing cousin and I want to see her.”
My lips tremble at the sincerity in her tone, at how I can feel just how much she loves me in those few words. It makes me think of Lewis and how he doesn’t have anyone in his family he can count on like I do. I wonder if he has anyone in his life to help him right now...
That thought makes me ache for him, despite the way things ended between us.
Naomi and I exchange I love yous and hang up. I quickly clean up my face in the mirror, take a deep breath, and walk into the office.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lewis
“Good god. What the hell happened to you?”
The sound of Katie’s voice rings like a gong in my head. Then comes the jolt of pain shooting through my skull.
I groan into my pillow.
A cracking sound echoes in my ears, and I wince. That piercing sound definitely didn’t help my hangover-induced headache.
When I finally peel open my eyes, I shout into my pillow at the shock of sunlight. It burns through my eyeballs, setting my skull on fire.
“What the...”
“It’s called sunlight, Lewis. You look like you could use some.” Katie moves to yank open the set of blinds on the other window in my bedroom.
I mutter a string of profanities into the pillow while punching the one next to me. The mattress depresses at my feet. I roll over, thankful that I forgot to take off my shorts when I passed out last night after downing all the alcohol in my house. Katie’s like my big sister, and I’d die if she saw me naked.
“You auditioning to be a zombie extra on The Walking Dead or something? Gotta admit, that’s a bit of a step down for you. You’d for sure be an episode regular—come on now.”
“You’re hilarious,” I mutter into my pillow.
She smacks the back of my calf.
“Ow!” I jolt up from the bed like a fish flopping on dry land. I twist around and squint at her, my eyes burning as they adjust to the sunlight. “What the hell are you hitting me for?”
Her frown is lethal, just like I remember it. Although it’s been ages since she’s aimed it at me.
“What the hell is going on with you? You haven’t returned any of my messages or calls since you’ve been back in LA.”
“I’ve been busy.” I shove a pillow over my face, my head throbbing as I breathe through the thickness.
“Busy wallowing? Busy trying to drink yourself to death?”
“Sure.”
“Your current state wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that woman whose house you were photographed at in Half Moon Bay, would it?”
Just the mention of Harper has my chest threatening to implode.
Harper.
For the past two weeks, ever since I walked out on her, I’ve been like this. Missing her so bad that it feels like my heart’s been through a wood chipper. Feeling like I want to punch myself in the face when I think about how I made the biggest mistake of my life by leaving her...
I toss away the pillow, wincing when the brightness hits my face. “What are you doing here, Katie?” I ask, blatantly ignoring what she just asked me.
“See, I think that your sorry-ass condition has everything to do with your Half Moon Bay lady.”
I used to chuckle in amusement every time Katie did this to whatever jerk she was telling off. I normally love how she ignores every attempt at changing the subject and simply plows through with her questions. She’s like a police interrogator in the body of a makeup artist. Now that I’m on the receiving end of her pressing questions, though, I kind of hate it.
“Obviously something went down between you two, and it wasn’t pretty.”
My lips quiver even as I bite down to prevent the flow of tears. But it’s no use. They plummet down my bearded cheeks anyway.
“Lewis.” Katie’s soft tone catches me off guard. I finally look up at her, her face a blur. All I can make out is the bright pink hue of her hair. “I’m your friend. I can see you’re hurting. Talk to me.”
I force myself to sit up and tell her everything. How I randomly met Harper and decided to hide out at her house because she was kind and trustworthy. I tell Katie how I fell for her and how when things were winding down with the renovation, we confessed our feelings for each other and decided to give a relationship a shot, that we had even scheduled visits to see each other. I tell her about meeting Harper’s family and trusting them enough to tell them who I was. I tell her about the photos that Harper’s aunt shared on Facebook from her cousin’s wedding, outing me to the paparazzi. I tell her how ambushed and panicked I felt, how I lashed out at Harper, how I blamed her even though I knew deep down it wasn’t her fault. I tell her how it reminded me of my family betraying my trust. I tell her how it led to me abruptly ending things between us. I tell her how it took less than a day of being back in LA for me to realize what a mistake I made—that I wanted Harper back in my life again. I tell her how when I tried to call her to beg for another chance, it was too late. She had blocked me, and I had no idea how to get in touch with her. I tell her how broken I’ve felt ever since then, because I ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
Katie’s blue eyes go wider and wider as I reveal each detail. When I finish, her stony expression softens.
“Jesus, Lewis.”
The noise I make is something between a scoff and a disgusted laugh. “I don’t know what to do, Katie. Harper is the most brilliant, beautiful, badass person I’ve ever been with. I’m so in love with her. She actually believed in me, you know? She helped me realize I’m good enough to pursue projects I’m passionate about instead of the pretty boy/bad boy roles everyone else—even my own agent—tells me I should stick to. And it...it meant everything. She saw me for who I really am. She let me be myself without any pressure or expectation—and she actually liked that about me. And the way she treated me, the way that she welcomed me into her life...she made me feel like family...” I drift off when my voice starts to break, then quickly clear my throat. “I let my past fuck up my future with her. I can’t believe I did that.”
