Page 158 of One Wrong Move

Maybe we should have some kind of boundaries. Maybe it is too fast, and maybe I should be more careful, but I don’t want to. Not this year. Not this new me. I want to go on wild road trips, embrace spontaneity, and stay out all night.

And maybe, he will want more from me than I can deliver at some point, but that’s then, and now’s now. The only thing?—

My phone rings. It buzzes aggressively in my pocket, and I reach for it.

The number is unknown, but coming from the States. I frown down at it only for a few moments before answering. Between caterers calling occasionally, and my stepdad constantly losing his phone and getting a new one, an unknown number is not that surprising.

I regret answering it the instant his voice comes onto the phone.

“Dean,” I say. The bubbles of happiness inside of me pop one by one. I do not want to deal with him today. “If this is about my last email, with the payment plan I drew up, I think we should keep that conversation to a written communique. There’s no need to?—”

“Oh, you’re wrong about that,” Dean says. “I think there is a need.”

I sigh. This is awkward, and painful, and uncomfortable. “I’m sorry about you seeing what you saw, Dean. Honestly. My goal was never to hurt you, just to move on. I want us both to be able to do that.”

“Move on. Yeah, I think that’s a good goal,” he says. “Maybe it was best that I saw the two of you and realized you had already moved on. You upgraded to an even richer sugar daddy. Impressive, really.”

My stomach sinks. It’s just past noon in New York, but I wonder if he’s drunk. If he’s been at lunch with an investor and indulged more than he should’ve. “If you called to rant, then I’m hanging up. We’ll speak over email about my monthly payments?—”

“Monthly payments?” Dean asks. “He really hasn’t told you. Wow. Well, there will be no need for those.” Dean’s voice is bitter, and just a tad vindictive. Like he’s exhausted but taking pleasure from this exchange. “You see, Nate settled all of it with me.”

“What?”

“Oh, yes. Told me to never contact you again. But when your email came in last night, I realized you didn’t know.”

“He didn’t,” I say. “He wouldn’t do that, so whatever game you’re playing?—”

“Ask him,” Dean says. “He’s an arrogant bastard, but he’s not a liar. At least, he didn’t use to be. Now, I don’t know anymore.”

I don’t know what to say.

Don’t know what to think. The last remaining bubbles inside me go off with a pop, leaving me deflated and heavy. I can’t imagine Nate would do that. He knows what it means to me to repay Dean for my part. To stand on my own, to stand by my own decision, and to be independent.

To be able to leave Dean and his financial manipulations behind.

I’m the one who called off the wedding. I want to pay my half of the costs.

It feels like the easiest concept in the world to grasp, but if he did this, if he went to Dean…

“When?” I ask.

“In London, after you went inside,” Dean says. His voice is laced with delight now. “You know, maybe you didn’t make a good choice after all, Harper. I would’ve taken your wishes into consideration. I used to want us back, but now I doubt I’d?—”

“You’ve never once considered my wishes or opinion.” I hang up the phone, my hand clutching it so tightly that my fingers hurt.

He couldn’t have.

But he has. It makes sense. A painful, warped kind of sense, and my stomach feels like it has turned to lead. So heavy it’s hard to keep walking.

Somehow I do. Somehow, I end up back at home, going through the motions like I do most afternoons. I put on my workout clothes and go knock on Richard’s door. Get the dogs, take them for a walk, and chat with our neighbor.

By the time the summer sun has started to kiss the horizon, by the time I’m sitting cross-legged in the garden, it’s time for Nate to come home.

A part of me wanted to flee as soon as I arrived at the townhouse today. A part of me wanted to start packing, and I wasn’t able to resist gathering my clothes together. Tidying up in the guest bedroom. Throwing the most important things into a bag.

I don’t want to be in this position again.

The sentiment is so strong it’s hard to keep still on the chair. This situation, this dependence, this kind of relationship. I didn’t want to experience it again.

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