Page 106 of The Close-Up
“But then the other week, I was sitting at my desk, looking at these plans for another multimillion-dollar sports complex the city is building...and I couldn’t get myself to care about it,” she says. “I tried all day to make headway on the project, but it was like pulling teeth. And that’s when it occurred to me. I don’t like my job anymore. And I didn’t want to do it for one more second.”
Harper’s eyes light up as she relays how she walked into her boss’s office and gave her notice.
She takes another breath. “I’m going to fix upApongVivian andApongBernie’s house.”
My jaw drops once more before I pull her into a hug. “Are you serious? Harper, that’s amazing. I’m... I don’t even have the words. I’m so, so happy.”
Our grandma and grandpa bought a small house in Half Moon Bay, the quaint and cute sleepy coastal town half an hour south of San Francisco. It was their first and only home purchase in the US. That’s where Harper and I would spend the holidays with the rest of our cousins growing up, crammed in that tiny two-bedroom house, sharing yummy family meals, opening presents, singing karaoke, chatting, and laughing.
When they passed away years ago, they left the house to Harper’s parents, but it’s needed so much remodeling and structural work, and no one has had the time or money to undertake it.
“Wait, you’re not going to do the remodeling by yourself, are you?”
“Oh god, no way. I’ll hire contractors. I just...when I was sitting at my desk, I asked myself what would make me happy. Like, truly blissfully happy. And the only thing that came to my mind was that house. I always loved staying there as a kid. I thought about how if only I had the time, I could go up there and start fixing it up. And it just clicked in my head. I thought, why not?”
I pull her into another hug. “I’m so happy for you. Truly. This would make them so, so happy.”
“Thank you,” she says softly. When she pulls away, she holds me by the shoulders, her hickory-brown eyes boring into me. “You say people can’t change. Did you ever think I’d just quit my job on a whim?”
“This is different. It’s not work. It’s so much more personal.”
“It’s really not,” she scoffs.
I shake my head as I let out a sigh. My knees ache from sitting cross-legged on the couch for so long. I start to turn so I can reposition, but Harper grabs me by the arm again.
“Listen, when you told me three months ago after things ended with you and Brody that you were banning relationships forever, I thought it was the worst idea I had ever heard of.”
“I remember,” I mutter.
“I don’t mean that as an insult to you. I get why you did it. You were hurt—and you were tired of getting hurt. But when did Simon ever hurt you? Like, truly hurt you in the way that your past boyfriends did?”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Because she’s right. Simon has never once betrayed my trust or hurt my feelings on purpose. Yeah, he got protective and jealous with Landon, but then he apologized for it and changed his behavior. He handled it more maturely than any other guy I’ve been with.
“No. He never hurt me,” I finally say.
She raises an eyebrow. “Exactly.”
“Harper, things between Simon and I have only gotten romantic recently. We’ve been together a month. There’s no guarantee it’ll work out.”
“There’s no guarantee anything will work out, ever,” she fires back. “Friendships, jobs, where you live, long-term plans. You’re not skittish about any of those.”
Okay, she definitely has a point there. “Naomi, I’ve seen the way your past relationships have wrecked you and made you doubt yourself—you don’t trust yourself to have a healthy, loving, lasting relationship because of your history with those jerks you dated. And it killed me. Because you absolutely are capable of it. You’re loving, honest, loyal, and attentive. And you were that way to every single one of your exes. The reason those relationships ended was because they ghosted or cheated or lost interest or had their own personal issues to work through independent of you. Not because you’re some flawed, unlovable person. You’re amazing. You just needed the right guy. And I really do think Simon is that guy for you.”
She pauses, presumably to let me soak in what she’s said. I’m thankful for the pause because everything she’s said lands like some heavy-hitting revelation. She’s spot-on.
“You’re punishing Simon because of what your douchebag exes did to you.”
I try to speak, but she cuts me off.
“I get it. Really, I do. It sucks to be hurt by someone you love. But don’t treat Simon like he’s broken your heart when he hasn’t. You know you’re in love with him.”
I balk at the word “love.”
Harper rolls her eyes yet again. “You’re joking me, right? You’re not going to try and tell me that you’re not in love with him. I’ve seen the way you look at each other. I’ve never, not once, seen you as happy with any guy ever than with Simon,” she says softly. “Didn’t you realize that? Didn’t it ever occur to you how things felt different with him than with everyone else?”
My head spins at all the truth bombs she’s dropping left and right. When I don’t say anything in response, she continues. “Did you ever pay attention to how Simon looked at you like there was no one else in the room? You did the same with him.”
My stomach drops when I remember it, the way intensity and kindness somehow perfectly merged in his golden brown stare. Every single time.
