Gold Rush

Chapter 16

Monday came faster than I wanted it to. The whole weekend had passed in a blur of overthinking and uncertainty. Harry hadn't responded to the text I decided to send him, and every time I checked my phone, that empty space where a reply should've been felt heavier. I hated leaving things like that. I wasn't used to this kind of tension between us, and it gnawed at me, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

I walked into Goldman Sachs that morning with a mission. I was holding a coffee for Harry, the same kind I'd seen him drinking dozens of times—black, with a touch of sugar. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

I headed toward his office, nerves bouncing around in my stomach. What if he was still angry? What if this gesture just made things worse? But I couldn't leave things the way they were. I had to try.

When I reached his cubicle, I tapped lightly on the wall. Harry was sitting at his desk, typing away, his face a perfect mask of focus. He looked up when he saw me in the doorway, his expression unreadable. I hesitated for a second before stepping inside.

"Hey," I said softly, holding up the coffee like a peace offering.

He glanced at the cup and then back at me, his face softening just a little. "Hey."

"I brought this for you," I said, setting it down on the edge of his desk. "I know it's not much, but I really want to apologize again. I feel terrible about what happened, and I hate that we've been... you know, like this."

He picked up the coffee, taking a sip before meeting my eyes again. He wasn't smiling, but there was no anger in his face either. I took that as a good sign.

"I know I don't deserve to ask you for anything right now," I continued, my voice quiet but sincere, "but I really want to make it up to you. How about we go to lunch later? My treat. We can talk, or... not talk if you don't want to."

Harry leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied me. For a moment, I wasn't sure if he would say yes.

"Lunch, huh?" he said slowly, and I nodded.

"Yeah. Just... let me make this right."

There was a long pause, and then he sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "Alright. Lunch."

Relief washed over me like a wave. "Thank you."

A few hours later, we found ourselves at a small, cozy bistro a few blocks from the office. The air outside was crisp with the first hints of fall, and the walk had been quiet but not uncomfortable. Now, as we sat across from each other at the table, I could feel the tension easing, but I knew the hard part was still to come.

We ordered our food, and for a few minutes, we chatted about work, nothing too personal. I could tell Harry was still holding back, guarded. But I wasn't going to let this opportunity slip away. I wanted to bridge the gap between us, not just smooth things over.

Once the server left us alone with our drinks, I took a deep breath and dove in. "Harry," I started, my voice soft but steady, "I know I don't actually know anything about your relationship with Colette. I shouldn't have said what I said."

He didn't say anything, but his eyes flicked to mine, listening.

"I just want you to know," I continued, "that if you ever do want to talk about it, I'm here. No judgment, no jokes. Just... a friend who's willing to listen."

Harry's hand tightened slightly around his glass. For a second, I thought he was going to brush it off, make some quip to change the subject. But then he let out a slow breath and leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxing just a little.

"You're right. You don't know much about it," he said, his voice low, almost hesitant. "But... maybe I should explain. It's not as simple as it seems."

I nodded, keeping my focus on him, letting him speak at his own pace.

Harry looked down at the table for a moment before beginning. "I didn't grow up with a lot of money," he said, his tone quieter now. "My family... we had what we needed, but there wasn't much extra. Everything I got, I had to work for. I spent years trying to get out of that situation, to build something better for myself. I worked my ass off in school to get a scholarship to Oxford."

I hadn't known that about him, and I felt a pang of admiration for how far he'd come. He continued, his words flowing more easily now.

"When I met Colette, it was... I don't know, like stepping into another world. Her family's rich—like, really rich. And I guess I was amazed at how much easier life seemed when you didn't have to worry about money. Everything felt... secure. Like, for the first time, I didn't have to fight so hard."

I listened closely as he went on, the story unfolding piece by piece.

"After we graduated, her family got me a job at one of the top firms in London. Without that opportunity, I wouldn't have been able to move to New York. I wouldn't have my position at Goldman Sachs. I owe them—and Colette—a lot. More than I could ever repay."

I felt a knot tightening in my stomach as he spoke. I could hear the conflict in his voice, the weight of that obligation pulling him down. It was like he was trapped, tethered to something that had given him so much but at the same time kept him from truly being free.

"I guess that's why I feel like... I owe her," Harry said, his voice softening. "Even though we fight, even though things have been stressful, I can't just walk away from that. She's part of why I'm here. I wouldn't have this life without her."

I nodded slowly, letting the silence stretch for a moment before I spoke. "Harry," I said gently, "you're incredibly smart and hardworking. You got that scholarship to Oxford on your own. You've accomplished so much on your own. I'm sure you would've gotten here, even if the path had been different."

He looked up at me, his expression unreadable.

"I get that you feel like you owe Colette," I continued, choosing my words carefully. "But if you're unhappy... you don't owe anyone anything that keeps you stuck in a place where you're not okay. You've already proven that you can make it on your own."

Harry didn't say anything at first, his gaze dropping back to his drink. I worried I'd pushed too far again, but then he nodded a small, almost imperceptible movement.

"Maybe," he said quietly. "But it's... complicated."

"I know," I said softly. "And I'm not trying to push you. I just want you to know that you have options. You're not as trapped as you might think."

He finally met my eyes again, and for the first time since our fight, I saw something soften in his expression. "Thanks, Gigi," he said quietly, his voice genuine. "For listening. And for... this."

A sense of peace settled over me. We weren't back to where we were, but we were getting there. And that was enough for now.

"You're welcome," I replied, smiling softly. "I'm just glad we're friends again."

Harry gave me a faint smile in return, and I could feel the tension between us ease. 

"You were never my enemy G," he says, "I don't think that's possible."

I smile. There was still a lot left unsaid, but for now, we'd found a balance. And that was something I could hold on to.