Page 108 of Julian

Percy inclines his head gently before disappearing from the study, leaving me alone again.

I stare down at the image, at the tiny face that somehow still manages to hollow me out every year, and I try to gather myself enough to move beyond this mood before Percy returns. I return the photos to the drawer and close it just as I hear footsteps return down the hallway. Percy appears first.

And Harper steps in behind him.

The sight of her unsettles me. She’s beaming and can see quite clearly that I am not.

Her smile falters when I don’t reciprocate the grin plastered on her face.

“Harper,” I say slowly as I rise from the chair.

“I texted you this morning,” she says, though uncertainty already flickers beneath the words. “You never answered.”

“I’m sorry,” I reply, my voice sounding strangely distant even to myself. “I’ve just been… preoccupied.”

She studies me. Then, determined not to let it derail her excitement, she pushes past the awkwardness with a small nervous laugh.

“Well,” she says, glancing briefly toward Percy before looking back at me, “I figured this probably wasn’t news I should deliver over text, anyway.”

Part of me realizes I should already know why she’s here. I should understand the energy radiating off her right now. Instead, all I can think about is Ben’s photograph sitting in the drawer only a few feet away from me.

“You could have called first,” I say.

I watch confusion flicker across her face, followed quickly by hurt she immediately tries to smooth over. “Oh,” she says softly. “I didn’t think I needed to.”

Percy backs out of the room, closing the double pocket doors behind him.

“It’s fine,” I say, because that’s the polite thing to offer.

Harper smiles again, brighter this time, breathless beneath her excitement.

“I wanted to tell you in person,” she says. And then the words pour out of her in this beautiful, unfiltered rush of happiness that normally would have undone me instantly. “I got it,” she says, laughing as though she still can’t fully believe it herself. “The job. Julian, I actually got it.”

Her entire face lights up as she speaks and yet her happiness bounces off me. I can’t even smile.

She doesn’t seem to notice. “They officially offered it this afternoon and apparently they interviewed more than twenty-five people,” she continues, words tumbling over one another now. “And they said it wasn’t even close. They told me I had exactly the instincts and leadership they were looking for and—” She breaks off with another disbelieving laugh, one hand pressed against her chest. “Dylan is completely losing his mind over it. He already started calling me a corporate girlboss, which I think is technically supposed to be insulting, but honestly, I was too excited to care so I’m choosing to take it as a compliment.”

She keeps talking, thoughts spilling forward in a joyous rush that fills the entire study with warmth.

And I should be there with her, matching her enthusiasm, bombarding her with questions and kisses. After all, I created this opportunity for her because I knew she was capable of it long before she ever believed it herself.

But today, I’m not capable of any of it.

Guilt still claws relentlessly through me. The dream, Ben’s birthday. I need time to understand what to do, who I need… who I can let in and who must remain on the outside.

I force myself to gather enough composure to give her anything. “That’s… incredible, Harper,” I say. “I, uh. Congratulations.”

But even to my own ears the words sound wrong. Manufactured and fake. It’s worse than not saying anything at all.

I can tell it hits her like a slap. “Yeah… thank you,” she says quietly.

I see her desperation to make sense of my reaction, or lack thereof. “I just…” She lets out a faint awkward laugh. “I thought you’d be happier.”

“I am happy for you.”

“You don’t seem happy, like, actually happy.”

Harper studies me more carefully now, all her earlier excitement replaced by concern. “What’s wrong?”