Don't Promise Me Forever

21 | in which Harper learns something that changes everything

Harper cut through the crowd.

It was odd, Harper reflected, to be at a party without photographing it; she felt oddly naked without her camera. Or maybe that was just her dress. The gown — clingy, maroon, and made by a German designer that Harper couldn't pronounce — was Diana's pick. And after the salmon mousse incident, Harper wasn't about to argue with her stepmother.

She scanned the room.

Diana and David were dancing. Several men were posing in front of a flower wall. And Alisdair was chatting with the bartender, swirling a glass of something dark.

No sign of Lawson.

She fluffed up a flower arrangement, mostly just to keep her hands occupied. Cass had abandoned her twenty minutes ago in search of the washrooms, and she had yet to return. And despite it being her parents' wedding, Harper thought, she didn't know many people here; the vast majority were Diana's friends.

Relief hit her as she spotted Moira and Griffin at a table.

"Harper!" Moira looked up as she approached. "You look lovely."

"Thank-you."

"No camera today?" Griffin asked.

Harper shook her head. "I'm off-duty."

She plopped into a seat. Moira drummed her painted fingernails on the white tablecloth, her gaze fixed on Diana and David, who had begun a complicated-looking waltz. Well, Diana was waltzing, Harper thought; her father looked more like he was being attacked by an invisible swarm of bees.

Moira smiled. "They look happy, don't they?"

"They really do," Harper agreed.

The older woman took off her hat, fanning herself with it. "You know, Di never told me how they met."

"A reality TV show," Harper explained. "Skeletons in the Closet: Celebrity Edition. Have you heard of it?" Moira shook her head. "Well, every week, they have a designer organize the house of a washed-up celebrity. Diana was in charge of sorting out Dad's place."

Griffin looked amused, although Harper wasn't sure whether that was because she'd just referred to her father as a "washed-up celebrity" or because she'd purposefully left out the part where Diana had thrown a shoe at David.

"Ah." Moira clicked her fingers. "He was in a band, wasn't he? Radical Liberal Club?"

"That's the one."

Moira shook her head. "It's hard to picture it now."

Harper looked over at her father — shaved, dressed in a tuxedo, all his tattoos hidden — and smiled. "It is, isn't it?"

"I'm glad you came over, Harper," Moira said, placing her hat down. "I actually wanted to apologize." She leaned across the table. "For the other day."

Griffin gave her a curious look. Harper's cheeks warmed.

"Oh, please don't," she said.

"I need to." Moira's voice was firm. "I'm not usually like this, but May is very hard on the whole family. I'm sure Lawson's told you that we—"

"Harper!" a voice called.

They all turned. Lawson was striding towards them, his green eyes flashing. Cass and Haz hurried behind him, but it was Lawson that held her attention; his black tie was coming loose, unravelling at his neck, and there was colour in his cheeks. Their eyes caught, and Lawson slowed. Blinked.

"Harper." His voice was slightly hoarse. "You look..."

Her cheeks grew hotter. "Thanks."

"Goodness." Moira was staring at Haz with wide eyes. "Are you wearing a suit, Harold?"

Haz scowled, pulling at the tie. "I am."

"Who talked you into that?" Moira asked.

Haz dropped his hand. "Dalton."

"Good boy," Moira said approvingly.

"Don't be too impressed," Alisdair drawled, materializing at the table. "There was bribery involved. I need to track down a vintage car part, now."

"Well, you look very handsome," Moira told Haz. "I know your parents would be proud."

Her eyes were suspiciously bright. Haz nodded but didn't say anything, and it took Harper a moment to understand why. Oh. Haz's parents weren't alive, were they? That's what Moira meant. A sadness filled her — something very like pity, but not quite that — and Harper looked away. She had the sense that Haz didn't take kindly to pity.

Especially when it was directed at him.

"Anyway," Moira continued, her voice deliberately bright, "that's enough sadness for today. It's meant to be a happy occasion. I know your parents would want us to enjoy ourselves." She nodded at Haz. "And so would—"

"Come on, Ohio," Lawson cut in. "Let's get a drink."

Harper frowned. "But I—"

"My treat," Lawson said.

"It's an open bar," Harper said.

"Excellent," Lawson said cheerfully. "Let's get five drinks each, then."

He took her arm, and Harper flinched. His fingers were like icy manacles. Did Lawson realize how hard he was gripping her? She looked up at him, noting the dark bruises under his eyes. The vacant expression. Lawson hardly seemed to notice the baffled look that Griffin was giving them, his gaze darting to where Lawson's hand lay on her arm.

Something was wrong.

Harper bit her lip. She wanted to speak to Lawson — of course she did — but there was one thing she needed to do, first. One major thing she'd been meaning to ask Moira this whole evening, actually.

She turned to Moira. "Is Paige coming to the wedding? I'd love to meet her."

Moira made a choking noise.

The older woman's whole face crumbled, folding in on itself like a fan. Cass's hand flew up to her mouth. Alisdair had gone still. Even Haz was gripping the table with one hand, his knuckles very white.

And then there was Lawson.

His eyes were closed, his shoulders stiff. He was a man staring down at a smashed antique vase. A man staring out at the burning ruins of a city. Harper could hear the words that his heart was beating: too late, too late. Cold sweat beaded her neck.

"What?" Harper glanced between them. "What is it?"

"Harper," Griffin said gently. "Paige is dead. She died in a car accident two years ago."

Hello lovely readers,

Question of the Day: did you see it coming? ;)

Affectionately,

J.K.