Harper POV
The plane touches down at LAX with a bump that jolts me back to reality. I stare out the small window at the familiar sprawl of Los Angeles—palm trees and traffic, smog and sunshine—and feel like I'm returning to someone else's life.
Two days. I was only gone for two days, but everything feels different now. The careful routines that used to define me, the predictable rhythms of my world, all of it seems foreign after Vegas. After him.
I close my eyes and let myself remember for just a moment: his hands in my hair, the morning light painting golden patterns across his skin. The memory sends a warm shiver through me, and I have to grip the armrest to ground myself.
Stop, I tell myself firmly. That was Vegas. This is real life.
But as I gather my carry-on and shuffle off the plane with the rest of the passengers, I realize something that stops me dead in the middle of the jetway: I haven't thought about Marcus once during the entire flight. Not once. The crushing weight of betrayal that's been sitting on my chest for a week is... gone.
Not gone completely, I'm not naive enough to think one magical night could erase three years of heartbreak. But it's different now. Manageable. Like someone turned down the volume on my pain until it became background noise instead of the only thing I could hear.
Thank you, I think, sending the gratitude out into the universe toward a man whose name I'll never know. Thank you for giving me myself back.
By Monday morning, I'm determined to prove that Vegas Harper wasn't just a beautiful aberration. I arrive at the office forty-five minutes early, armed with a large coffee and a color-coded to-do list that would make my old self proud. If I'm going to move forward, I need to throw myself back into the work I love.
"Well, look who's back from her mystery weekend," calls Jessica, one of the junior planners, as I settle at my desk. "You look... different. Rested."
"Vegas will do that to you," I reply, pulling up my calendar. Three client meetings today, two venue walk-throughs, and a tasting for the Henderson anniversary party. Perfect. Busy enough to keep my mind occupied.
"Vegas?" Jessica perks up. "Solo Vegas? Harper Lawson, you rebel."
I laugh, surprised by how easy it feels. "Sometimes you need to surprise yourself."
And that becomes my new mantra over the next week and a half. I surprise myself by saying yes to drinks with coworkers instead of going straight home. I surprise myself by buying a red dress that's nothing like my usual conservative style. I surprise myself by not checking Marcus's social media even once, not caring whether he's posted pictures with the blonde or written some pathetic explanation for his friends.
The work helps. There's something soothing about creating perfect moments for other people, about focusing on details and timelines and contingency plans. The Riverside wedding needs seventeen more linens. The corporate gala wants to add a photo booth. Mrs. Chen is worried about rain for her garden party. Problems with solutions, chaos that can be organized, beauty that can be planned and executed.
I'm in the middle of negotiating with a florist when my phone buzzes with a text from Mona: Landing in an hour! Can't wait to hear everything. Dinner tonight?
I smile at the screen. Mona's been in New York for the past week and a half, some big marketing conference that she couldn't get out of. We've texted sporadically, but I've been grateful for the space. It's easier to process everything that happened when I don't have to explain it to someone else.
Yes! Can't wait to see you, I text back, and realize I mean it. I've missed my best friend.
"You look incredible," Mona says the moment I open my apartment door. She pulls me into a fierce hug, and I breathe in her familiar vanilla perfume. "Like, seriously incredible. What happened to you?"
"Vegas happened to me," I say, leading her into the kitchen. "Wine?"
"Obviously." She settles onto one of my barstools and studies me with the intensity of someone conducting a scientific experiment. "But seriously, Harp, you look... I don't know how to describe it. Lighter? Like someone lifted a weight off your shoulders."
I pour two glasses of the Pinot Grigio she brought and consider how to answer. The truth is too complicated, too precious to share even with Mona. How do I explain that a stranger saw me more clearly in one night than Marcus did in three years? How do I describe the way it felt to be desired completely, without reservation or judgment?
"I think I just needed to remember that I could be happy on my own," I say finally, which is true even if it's not the whole truth. "That I don't need someone else to feel complete."
Mona raises her glass. "To independence and self-discovery."
"And to not letting men ruin our lives," I add.
"Amen to that." We clink glasses, and she takes a sip before leaning forward conspiratorially. "Though speaking of men, I have news."
Something in her voice makes me pay attention. There's an excitement there, a glow I haven't seen in months.
"Good news or bad news?"
"The best news." Her face breaks into the kind of smile that transforms her completely. "He proposed."
I nearly choke on my wine. "What? Who proposed? Mona, what are you talking about?"
"I've been seeing someone," she says, and there's something almost shy in her voice. "For a while now. I wanted to be sure before I said anything, you know? After David and that disaster with Jake, I just... I needed to keep this one to myself until I knew it was real."
My mind is reeling. Mona has been dating someone seriously enough that he proposed, and I had no idea? "How long is 'a while'?"
"Eight months," she admits, looking almost guilty. "I know, I know, I should have told you sooner. But you were so happy with Marcus, and I didn't want to jinx anything, and then everything happened with your breakup and I didn't want to rub my happiness in your face..."
Eight months. While I was planning a future with Marcus that was never going to happen, my best friend was falling in love with someone I've never even heard of.
"Mona," I say carefully, "why didn't you tell me? We tell each other everything."
"I wanted to," she says quickly. "So many times. But he's... private. He doesn't love being the center of attention, and with his work in hospitality, he deals with people all day. When we're together, he just wants it to be us, you know? No pressure, no performing for other people."
I can hear the love in her voice when she talks about him, and any hurt I might have felt dissolves into happiness for her. Mona deserves someone who makes her glow like this.
"Hospitality?" I ask.
"His family owns restaurants. Really successful ones. He grew up in the business, and sometimes I think he feels like he's always 'on' at work, so he values his private time." She twists what must be her engagement ring around her finger—when did she start wearing a ring? "I should have introduced you sooner, but honestly, you two are the most important people in my life, and I was terrified you wouldn't like each other."
"Why wouldn't I like him?"
"He's... different from the guys you usually approve of. More reserved, maybe a little serious. Not the life-of-the-party type." She pauses, studying my face. "But Harper, he makes me feel safe in a way I've never felt before. Like I can be completely myself with him."
The way she describes this feeling—being seen, being accepted completely—sends an unexpected pang through my chest. It sounds exactly like what I felt that night in Vegas, that rare and precious connection that makes you feel like you've found a missing piece of yourself.
"If he makes you happy, then I already love him," I say honestly.
Her face lights up. "Really?"
"Really. I can't wait to meet the man who puts that smile on your face."
"Actually," she says, practically bouncing in her seat, "that's the other part of my news. We're having an engagement party. Nothing huge, just close friends and family. But Harper..." She reaches across and grabs my hands. "I finally get to introduce you two. I'm so excited for my two favorite people to meet each other."
Something flutters in my chest—anticipation mixed with nerves. Meeting Mona's mystery fiancé feels like a big step, a sign that we're all moving forward into whatever comes next.
"When?" I ask.
"Saturday night. My place. I know it's short notice, but we just decided yesterday, and I couldn't wait any longer." She squeezes my hands. "Say you'll come. Say you'll help me celebrate."
I look at my best friend's glowing face, at the happiness radiating from every part of her, and feel my heart swell with love for her. After everything that's happened, after all the pain and confusion of the past few weeks, this feels like exactly what I need—a celebration of love that worked out, a reminder that happy endings are possible.
"Of course I'll come," I say. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."
"Perfect!" She jumps up and comes around the island to hug me again. "This is going to be amazing, Harper. I just know you're going to love him as much as I do."
As she chatters excitedly about the party details, I find myself smiling. For the first time since Vegas, I'm looking forward to something in my real life. Meeting the man who makes my best friend this happy feels like the perfect way to close the door on my old life and step fully into whatever comes next.