He's a cynic. She's a romantic. One deal, one wedding, and one gigantic secret stand between them.
**
Harper Lane wants to believe in true love. After her parents split, she began photographing evidence of it. Couples holding hands. Valentine's Day...
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"So," Diana said. "That's exactly what happened?"
Her stepmother poured a healthy amount of tea into a cup. The living room was eerie tonight, cast in shadow and moonlight. It was odd, Harper thought, to be in here now; she and Lawson still littered the room like silent photographs. The poker cards. The empty packets of chocolate almonds in the trash can. The burnt embers in the fireplace.
Harper nodded. "That's what happened."
"You're certain?" Diana asked.
Suspicion rose. "Why?"
"Because Lawson had a different story," David said.
Her father was pacing by the fire, occasionally trying to rub his eyes before drawing back, startled, as if he'd forgotten that he was wearing horn-rimmed glasses. Harper frowned. If her parents were trying to bluff their way into a confession like cops did on CSI: Miami, then they were about to be disappointed.
"I'm telling the truth," she said. "Really."
David touched his glasses. "Well, one of you is definitely lying."
"What did Lawson say?"
Diana and David exchanged a look.
"He said it was his fault," David explained. "He told us that he got drunk at the wedding and decided to go for a midnight swim in the river. That all of you went to find him, and then the bridge collapsed."
Oh, Lawson. "He's lying."
David looked dubious. He didn't want to believe Harper, and she didn't blame him; the portrait that she'd painted of herself wasn't particularly flattering. She picked up a cup of tea, cradling the warmth in her hands.
"I ran on to the bridge," Harper repeated. "It was my mistake. A stupid mistake."
"You were upset," Diana observed.
Harper kept her eyes trained on the black tea. She'd left out her fight with Lawson on purpose, but her stepmother had an uncanny ability to sniff out the heart of a story. Probably from raising Griffin, who exploded things on a weekly basis.
"Do you believe in forever?" Harper asked suddenly.
Diana — who had been stirring her tea — paused. "What?"
"Like, do you think it exists?"
Her heart was hammering at her throat. She thought back to Lawson's words in the kitchen, his green eyes burning: Nothing lasts forever, Harper. Nothing. Not even us. Diana and David exchanged a bewildered look.
"I'm not sure what you mean," David said.
Harper gripped the teacup. "When you and Mom got divorced, I was so desperate to believe in love again. I kept a scrapbook of pictures just to prove it exists. Did you know that? But now I wonder..." She stared down at the tea. Watched as a bubble popped on the surface. "I mean, people die. Cities crumble. One day, everything will just be ash and dust. So maybe nothing lasts forever. Maybe there's no point in any of it."
