Chapter 4

"Oh my God! Harper, don't throw a tantrum! The wedding's the day after tomorrow, and haven't you dreamed about it forever? Why are you saying these awful things now!"

Ada rushed forward, trying to stop me from letting the words stand. She turned to Nathan with an apologetic little smile. "Nate, don't take it to heart, okay? I swear Harper only says these things when she's upset. You two get along, don't fight."

"I'll just go find somewhere to stay on my own. There's no reason for the two of you to hurt what you have because of me."

With that, Ada turned and walked off.

Nathan's voice came out low and heavy. "You drove her away, and now you're happy? She's your best friend. What are you even jealous about?"

"Harper, sometimes I really think you're impossible. Your mother's gone, and Ada's stood by you for fifteen years, practically a mother figure to you. If I'm good to her, it's because I want things between the two of you to be better."

"How can you be so childish about this?"

"I'm not throwing a tantrum. I mean it."

My voice was steady. "Nathan, we're done."

"Fine, fine, fine, whatever you want." Nathan said it like it made no difference to him. "Just don't come crying and begging me to take you back in the end."

"I'm going to check on Ada. She's a girl with no one to lean on, and a hotel by herself isn't safe."

With that, Nathan turned and left.

As though certain I couldn't live without him.

Every time we'd fought before, I was always the one to back down first.

I'd always told myself we were lovers, not enemies, so it didn't matter who caved first, as long as we loved each other, that was enough.

But I saw now that I'd been wrong.

All my patience, all my giving in, never brought the same effort from Nathan in return. It only fed his sense of superiority.

Calmly, I picked up my suitcase and left the home I'd lived in for nine years.

Passing the second bedroom, I caught the faint, broken sound of crying inside, and Nathan's voice, low and soothing.

Words that gentle, he hadn't said to me in a long time.

I don't know when it started, but Nathan had always carried himself over me with his chin up, as if I were his servant, born to wait on him.

And he accepted everything I gave with a clear conscience.

Through the crack in the door, out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed the room, all soft pink and white, decorated entirely to Ada's taste.

I remembered the first time Ada came to stay, how she'd griped that everything about that bedroom was wrong.

So the next day, Nathan redid it exactly how she liked, even swapped in a five-figure mattress, right down to the sheets and comforter.

The master bedroom he and I shared didn't add up to eight thousand, all of it together.

I'd questioned him about it too. "Why would you do that?"

Nathan's answer didn't surprise me in the least. "Ada doesn't have anyone. As your boyfriend, being good to your best friend, shouldn't that make you happy?"

"Besides, everybody online says if you offend the mother-in-law figure, your love life gets rocky. I don't want to lose you over a single word from her."

After that, Ada came to stay all the time, and Nathan was always making my decisions for me.

I closed the door and walked away with my suitcase.

Nine years ago, when I moved into that apartment, I was so excited I didn't sleep the whole night.

Because I finally had a little home of my own.

But now that little home was too crowded. There was no room left in it for me.

Once I'd checked into the hotel and was unpacking, I realized the last painting my mother ever made, I hadn't brought it with me.

Nathan and I had been together only six months back then when my mother was suddenly in a car crash and died before they could save her.

I shut myself in my rented apartment for half a month. It was Nathan who kicked the door open, rushed in, scooped me up, and carried me to the hospital, where they worked on me for forty-eight hours before I finally pulled through.

He'd held me and cried. "I thought I almost lost you. Silly Harper, don't ever do that again. I know losing your mom hurts, but you still have me. I'll give you a home, a little home that belongs to just the two of us."

Sure enough, six months later he bought an apartment.

While we were moving things in, he made a point of hanging my mother's last painting in the living room. Gently, he told me, "This is the one thing I fought hardest to save. Let it hang here, so it's like your mom is always right beside you."