Chapter 2: Storms, Secrets, and Goodbyes

The next time I saw Harrison was a month later. It felt like forever.

It felt like a lifetime had passed, but it was only four weeks. I’d almost convinced myself I was over him. Almost.

A stormy evening. The world felt heavy.

Thunder rolled overhead, the sky bruised and angry. I clutched my coat tighter, bracing against the wind. I just wanted to get home.

I stood outside my company, holding documents, trying to hail a rideshare to deliver the files to a client’s dinner. My patience was wearing thin.

My fingers were numb, the rain soaking through my shoes. I cursed the city’s lousy transit, wishing for anything but this. Why did it have to be tonight?

The files weren’t important, but a pretty face was always needed at the table to keep the clients happy. I hated that part of the job.

It was one of those unspoken rules. I hated it, but I needed the job. Sometimes you do what you have to. That’s just life.

I didn’t like it, but I had to swallow my pride for a paycheck. Pride doesn’t pay the bills.

I told myself it was temporary. Just one more hurdle before things got better. I had to believe that.

The roads were a mess in the rain, and I waited forever in the cold wind without getting a car. My toes were numb.

Every rideshare was booked, the surge prices climbing higher. I was starting to lose feeling in my toes. I just wanted to give up.

Until, through the downpour, I spotted the familiar silhouette of an Escalade. My heart skipped a beat.

Even through the sheets of rain, I recognized his car. My heart did a stupid little flip. Old habits.

The car stopped in front of me. I hesitated, unsure.

The wipers swished back and forth, clearing a path through the storm. I hesitated, unsure what to do. Should I get in?

The window rolled down. Warm air and memories rushed out.

The blast of warm air and familiar cologne hit me at once. I shivered, more from nerves than cold. I wasn’t ready for this.

Inside, Harrison looked at me—and so did the girl in the passenger seat. My stomach dropped.

Charlotte. Of course. She looked flawless, not a hair out of place, even in this weather. Figures.

The same pretty princess from the family photo. She looked even more perfect up close.

She wore a cashmere sweater, pearl earrings, and a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. I wondered if she ever let her guard down.

"Savannah, need a ride? I’ll have Harry take you." Her voice was sweet, but there was an edge to it. She said his name like it was a private joke. I felt outnumbered.

She tilted her head at me, her smile lingering at the corners of her mouth. She was sizing me up. I knew the look.

It was the kind of smile that said she knew exactly where she stood—and where I didn’t. She was marking her territory. Message received.

Harry? Since when?

I’d never heard anyone call him that. It sounded strange, intimate, like a secret nickname. I hated how much it bothered me.

How intimate. It stung, more than I wanted to admit. I bit my tongue.

She even knew my name. Of course she did.

Of course she did. Harrison must have talked about me. I wondered what he’d said. Was I a joke to them?

Did Harrison share my feelings like gossip to win her over? The thought made my stomach twist. I hated the idea of being a story he told to someone else. I wanted to disappear.

Rain poured down as I stood on the steps, meeting Harrison’s gaze. I searched his face for answers.

He looked back at me, unreadable. I searched his face for any sign of regret or apology. I found none.

After a moment, he gripped the steering wheel and looked away. That told me everything I needed to know.

He couldn’t hold my gaze. That told me everything I needed to know. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"Get in. I’ll drive you wherever you need." His voice was low, almost resigned. I could tell he was trying to do the right thing, whatever that meant. It didn’t matter anymore.

My phone rang—it was my boss, calling to hurry me along. I jumped, startled.

I fumbled for my phone, the screen slick with rain. My boss’s voice was sharp, impatient. I wanted to scream.

Seeing me hesitate, Harrison glanced at the documents I was holding and honked the horn. Subtle as always.

The sound startled me, echoing off the wet pavement. He never was patient when it came to waiting. I rolled my eyes.

"Work’s important, and it’s pouring." He said it like a command, not a suggestion. I knew better than to argue. I was too tired to fight.

I looked at my boss’s impatient texts, thought for a moment, and got in the car. What choice did I have?

I slid into the backseat, careful not to drip on the leather. My hands shook as I clutched the documents to my chest. I felt like an intruder.

It had been a month since I’d last seen Harrison, and the inside of his car had changed a lot. It felt foreign.

The familiar mess was gone, replaced by something colder, more impersonal. It felt like stepping into someone else’s life. I didn’t belong here.

The puppy pillow I used to keep in the backseat was gone, replaced by all sorts of luxury gift boxes. I tried not to care.

I spotted bags from Bergdorf’s, Tiffany, and Saks—gifts, no doubt, for Charlotte. My heart gave a little pang. I looked away.

The cashmere scarf I’d bought him was now buried at the bottom under those boxes. Forgotten. Like me.

I could just see a corner of it peeking out, forgotten and crumpled. It felt like a metaphor for us. Lost in the shuffle.

"Sorry, Savannah, my stuff’s kind of everywhere. Blame Harry—he keeps buying me things." Charlotte’s voice was bright, practiced. She turned in her seat to flash me a dazzling smile. I forced a smile back.

The girl in the front seat turned and gave me a bright, showy smile. I didn’t trust it.

Her eyes lingered on mine, daring me to say something. I just nodded, biting back a retort. Not worth it.

"Oh, right. I’m Charlotte Whitmore. I’ve heard Harry talk about his favorite plaything for ages, and now I finally get to meet you." She stretched out the word 'plaything' like it was a punchline, her tone dripping with something I couldn’t quite name. I bristled.

She looked me up and down, deliberately stressing the word 'plaything,' with a hint of mockery. I’d seen it before.

It was subtle, but I caught it. I’d seen enough of these games to know when I was being sized up. I refused to play along.

Over the years, I’d seen plenty of rich people trample the weak and cozy up to the powerful. This was nothing new.

I’d learned to keep my cool, to let the barbs slide off. Getting angry never helped. I took a deep breath.

So, I wasn’t especially angry or upset. Not anymore. Just tired.

I just smiled, the way you do when you know you’re outmatched but refuse to show it. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

"Hello." My voice was steady. I hoped it sounded stronger than I felt.

I kept my tone even, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. I wouldn’t let her see me sweat.

"Savannah, Harry said you work in sales, right?" She let the question hang in the air, her gaze sharp. She wanted a reaction.

She paused on purpose. I didn’t flinch.

She wanted me to squirm. I wouldn’t give her the pleasure. Not a chance.

"Sales reps always have to sleep with clients to get results, so tough. I heard you’re your team’s top seller this year. You’re really something, huh." Her words were sugar-coated poison, each one designed to sting. I forced myself to breathe, to stay calm. I’d heard worse.

Every word from Charlotte was barbed. I knew better than to take the bait.

I’d heard worse, but it still hurt. I clenched my fists in my lap, willing myself not to snap. Not here. Not now.

But it was almost funny. I almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.

The absurdity of it all hit me. I almost laughed. She saw me as competition, but the race was already over. I’d already lost.

I was never her rival. Not really. I never had a chance.

Harrison had made his choice, whether he said it out loud or not. Actions speak louder than words.

Because Harrison had never considered me as a romantic option. I was just there. Convenient.

I was just a footnote in his story. It stung, but it was the truth. I accepted it.

I glanced at Harrison. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.

He met my eyes in the rearview mirror, his face unreadable. I wondered what he was thinking. Did he feel anything at all?

In the rearview mirror, his expression was indifferent, almost too calm. I wanted to shake him.

He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

I let out a long breath and sat up straight. I wouldn’t let them see me break.

I wasn’t going to let her—or him—see me break. Not tonight. Not ever.

"Miss Whitmore, that’s an interesting way to look at things. Like seeing a chef with a knife and assuming it’s a weapon. Or do you really think there’s only one way to succeed?" My voice was steady, my words measured. I watched her face for any sign of surprise. I hoped she felt it.

Charlotte stared at me, momentarily stunned, about to say more, but Harrison cut her off. He’d had enough.

He cleared his throat, shooting her a look that said enough. She huffed, but didn’t argue.

"Enough, Char." His voice was low, final. She backed down.

Harrison glanced at my face in the rearview mirror. I didn’t look away.

Our eyes met for a split second. I saw regret there, maybe, or just exhaustion. I couldn’t tell.

I ignored him, looking out the window instead. I was done with all of it.

The city blurred past, neon lights streaking across the glass. I let the silence settle between us. It was better that way.

We arrived at my destination. I was ready to leave.

The car slowed, the club’s garish sign glowing in the rain. I gathered my things, bracing myself for the cold. I steeled myself.

"Harrison, I’m here." My voice was steady, but my hands shook as I reached for the door. I wouldn’t let him see.

He glanced up at the garish Golden Goblet Club sign outside and let out a cold laugh. It sounded bitter.

There was a bitterness in his laugh, a note of something I couldn’t quite place. Maybe regret. Maybe relief.

"Savannah, look at this place. Char’s been spoiled since she was a kid—don’t stoop to her level…" He sounded almost pleading, like he wanted to protect me from something. But it was too late for that. Way too late.

"This is exactly where I need to be." I met his gaze, daring him to challenge me. I was done playing by his rules. Done.

Realizing I wasn’t joking, Harrison’s expression froze for a few seconds. He stared at me, caught off guard. For once, he didn’t have anything to say.

For the first time in years, I didn’t chase.