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The tiles are cold beneath my feet as I turn the water on and step into the shower. I let the heat pound against my shoulders. Steam rises around me, and I want it to erase everything I just walked through. I close my eyes and press both palms to the wall, letting the water run down my back, over my neck, across the bruises I haven’t even looked at yet. My mind goes quiet, not because the fear is gone, but because there’s nothing left to fight. The threat is over now that Micah’s in custody. Harper’s safe. I made it back in one piece.
The bathroom door swings open behind me, and it’s followed by light footsteps.
Harper steps into the shower without hesitation, her presence sliding in next to me like she belongs there. She doesn’t speak and just moves close. The heat of her body presses against my back for a breath, and she wraps her arms around me, hugging me as she kisses my back. After a few seconds, she takes the washcloth and soap, and I let her wash me. Her hands are careful.
She starts with my shoulders, working the cloth over each one. There’s a carefulness in her movements that undoes me. She’s not trying to distract or seduce. She’s caring for me, and she touches me like I’m the only thing that matters. This isn’t about scrubbing off blood or sweat; it’s about showing me that I’m not alone in the aftermath.
I turn to face her, and when she reaches my chest, I cover her hand with mine.
“You don’t have to,” I mutter, unsure why I’m even trying to stop her.
“I want to.” Her voice is calm. “Let me.”
So, I do.
I drop my hand and let her continue, and she washes me in quiet circles. Her fingers linger where bruises are forming, where the skin is tender. When she sees the scrape along my ribs from Micah’s fingernails, she presses a kiss before continuing, her lips warm, even beneath the heat of the water. I let my head fall forward, water running down my face as emotion overtakes me. I don’t cry, but I feel close, completely overwhelmed by her gentle touch. I haven’t allowed myself to be taken care of in years. I forgot what it feels like to be touched with gentleness, without expectation.
Her arms wrap around me when she’s finished, her cheek pressing against my chest. We stay like that for a while—just breathing as I allow her to hold me.
“I thought of you the whole time,” I say, staring at the marble tiles. “Every second, I thought of you.”
Her grip tightens just slightly. “And you came back to me, safe.”
“Because there was no other option.”
We stay like that until the water cools, and even then, I don’t want to leave.
Harper reaches for a towel and dries my chest before wrapping another around my shoulders. She grabs a towel for herself, then guides me out with a smile and a look in her eyes, like she’ll never let me fall apart alone again.
The ceiling fan in her bedroom hums up above, and the sheets smell just like her. She’s already in my arms by the time I even realize I’m lying down.
She’s snuggled against my chest, her cheek resting just beneath my collarbone, her fingers lightly brushing the edge of the towel, still slung low around my hips. We haven’t spoken in the last five minutes, but everything important has already been said. The silence between us doesn’t feel heavy, but earned.
Her bed in the Park Towers penthouse is too big for one person, but it feels right for two. She fits perfectly against me, like her body knows the shape of mine. Like we were meant to be. My arm is wrapped around her back, fingers moving in steady circles across her skin. Her breath is steady, and I can feel the weight shedding from us both with every inhale.
My mind tries to go back—to the sound of the gun, to the moment Micah’s hand found the trigger—but Harper’s hand slides up my chest and pulls me back into the present. She doesn’t even know she’s doing it; it’s just instinct. Just her body telling mine we’re okay now and that there’s no more running or fighting to be had.
The image of her earlier—standing in her doorway, hair a mess, eyes full of panic and love and devastation—burns behind my eyes. She didn’t ask if I was okay because she didn’t need to—because shefeltit. Sheknew. And the way she touched me after … how she let me fall apart inside her without needing to fix anything … I don’t think I’ve ever been loved like that.
My chest tightens, but not in the way it did before. This is different. It’s full. It’s real. It’s love.
She shifts slightly, her leg hooking over mine beneath the covers, and I smile into her hair. She smells like soap and steam and something that’s just her. I kiss her there, right at the top of her head. She hums with an exhale, still half asleep but aware enough to melt closer.
For just a second, I think about Eden and how she knew Harper and I belonged together. It’s a conversation and a moment that has lived in the back of my mind for years. But tonight, I understand what she meant; I just didn’t see it. And maybe, justmaybe, that’s how I honor her.
Harper exhales against my chest, and I feel it like a vow settling between us.
I tighten my arm around her just a little more, burying my face into her hair, breathing her in like she’s the only real thing in the world—because she is.
And as I finally let my eyes close, I know one thing with absolute clarity. The nightmare is over. I let go of the weight I’ve been dragging behind me for far too long.
Harper and I made it through the darkest of storms. And now I get to keep her and enjoy the rainbows.
33
HARPER
The first thing I feel is his hot breath against the back of my neck.