Page 165 of One Wrong Move

A smile curves her red-painted lips. “Have to keep the people guessing.”

“You’re the best at that.”

In the end, we leave the gallery around midnight after locking up and setting the alarm. I walk to the hotel I’m staying at. A rather expensive but absolutely necessary hotel, one that’s thankfully close to work.

For the past two evenings, I’ve walled myself in my room after getting “home” and laid flat on the fluffy bed while watching old reruns of Friends. Ordered takeout and tried desperately not to think about anything at all.

Especially not about the days ahead.

I’m running out of clothes. I’d only packed a small bag, and quickly. The majority of my stuff is still in Nate’s townhouse. In the room that I’ve considered mine for a while now.

Tonight, I manage to get inside my hotel room before the first tear falls. It’s not the first time I’ve cried since we argued, but this time, it feels like a release. Sadness, frustration, and exhaustion are mingled together, and I don’t even wash off my makeup before collapsing into bed.

The champagne I’ve drunk should have stopped my mind from racing. But instead, it seems to egg it on. It’s as if my thoughts are the bubbles in the sparkly liquid, floating quicker and quicker to the surface, and exposing with a soft pop.

I toss and turn in bed. Try focusing on the TV show on my laptop screen, but I can’t. Reposition again. Still useless. Feeling on edge, I reach out and grab my phone.

It’s not the first time I’ve had the impulse, but it’s the first time I’ve given into it.

He answers after the third ring. “Harper,” he says. His voice is gravelly. “Are you all right?”

I pick at the corner of the duvet. “Yes.”

“It’s… nice to hear from you.”

“I got the flowers. Thanks.”

A rustling sound comes across the line, and I imagine him turning over. Lying on his back in the giant bed I know all too well. “How did tonight go?”

“Really well,” I say and clear my throat. “Eitan hinted I would likely be asked to stay in London.”

“Oh. That’s amazing. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” I close my eyes. Press my hand to my forehead. It’s delicious to hear his voice. I’ve missed him. “I think I might need some more stuff from your house.”

“Of course. It’s all here,” he says, but his voice is hushed. It sounds pained. “You’re welcome. You still have your key.”

“No, I… I left it on the desk in my room when I left.”

“Oh.”

A beat of silence passes between us. We’ve never been silent before. It’s not us, and it’s not the easy, fun dynamic that had made me so effortlessly fall for a man I never planned on loving. I was in deep before I knew I had begun.

Another quiet tear slips down my cheek, and I screw my eyes shut. Why didn’t he trust me with the information? Why did he leave it to Dean to tell me?

And is there a way for me to be with Nate without giving up the life I want to live? Right now, I want that more than I want my next breath.

“Maybe I can come by this weekend.” My voice sounds soft. Not teary-eyed, and I’m grateful for that. Even if my eyes are more than wet.

“Whenever you want. Just text me beforehand, and I’ll make sure there’s someone home.”

“Oh. Are you traveling?”

“No. My siblings are coming. They’re landing in the morning.”

“Everyone? Kids, too?”

“Yes,” he says.

---