Unlike her father, Catherine Miller had been poor, and the divorce had kept her poor.
Up until this moment, Harper had lived with her mother, opting to stay on the wrong side of the tracks rather than go up in the world.
Her father’s new wife had already had a baby, and they were a perfectly happy family. With her raven hair, Harper wouldn’t fit in. She had her mother’s hair, her mother’s blue eyes, and she hated her father.
“Yes, of course. Sorry. I guess we should grab your stuff.”
By stuff, he meant the few bags of clothing he’d allowed her to take.
“I’ll get Hannah to take you shopping. She loves to shop, and there’s no expense. You can buy what you want.”
She wanted her mother’s old furniture, but she wasn’t allowed that. He’d tossed it aside as if it was nothing.
Pulling the bag onto her shoulder, she climbed out of the car, staring up at the house.
This was her life for the next year until she went to college, if she even got into one. Hannah appeared in the doorway. The perfect little blonde wife.
“It’s so good to see you, Harper. So happy to have you here.”
Before she could stop her, Hannah had her arms wrapped around her. Staying still, Harper counted to ten, then to twenty.
Could it get any more awkward?
Finally, her stepmother let her go.
She couldn’t even believe she called her a stepmother. The woman that ruined her parents’ marriage didn’t deserve to be anything.
Staring at her, Harper didn’t let her feelings show. She waited as Hannah grabbed her hand, and either ignored the blatant lack of response or didn’t care.
“We’ve got you the perfect room. You’re going to love it.”
She was dragged up two flights of stairs. The house they lived in was way too big for three people. Four now if she counted herself.
She had to count herself.
There was nowhere else for her to go, and when she suggested a rented apartment so she didn’t impose on his life, her father refused.
Hannah opened the door at the end of the long corridor.
Pink. Everywhere. Also teddy bears with unicorns and other shit.
Hannah breathed in and laughed. “Don’t you just love it? I think this is so amazing. So pretty. So beautiful. You’re going to love it.” She ran toward the window. “Look, you get to see the entire street, and also a side window as well.”
Harper stood perfectly still. Hannah’s laughter irritated her.
“She loves it,” Ian said, dropping her bags on the floor. “You’ll be taking her shopping tomorrow. I’ve got to meet a client. You understand.”
“Of course. Of course. You’ve got all your work that is so important to you.” Hannah rushed to his side.
Harper didn’t turn as the sound of their kissing filled the air.
Dropping her bag to the floor, she walked over to two of the doors. Opening one, she saw the en-suite bathroom.
Again, so much pink.
Finding the closet, she ignored the two people who were now her parents and started to unpack her clothes.
They stood out against the silk of the sheets. Silk wasn’t something she was used to. The grandeur of this house glared at her, reminding her once again of everything her mother never had.
“So, what do you think?” Ian asked.
She glanced over at him. His arm was wrapped around Hannah.
“It’s fine.”
She hated it, but it didn’t matter what she said. They didn’t care.
“It’ll grow on you, sweetie. Believe me, at your age, I was mad for pink anything. I know what it is you’re going through, and there’s no shame in loving a bit of pink.”
“Your mother slit her wrists in the bath as well?” she asked.
Any color in Hannah’s face drained away as she simply stared at the woman.
The homewrecking whore.
The woman that had something her own mother didn’t have.
She tilted her head to the side. “You want to compare notes.”
“Sweetie, go and make dinner. I bet Harper is hungry.”
Hannah didn’t argue and made the escape quickly.
“I don’t want you bringing that incident up, do you understand?”
Harper stayed silent as she waited for whatever he had to say.
Be silent. Keep it secret. Don’t say anything. Pretend it didn’t happen.
“I want you to have fun tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to go shopping.”
“Stop being difficult, Harper. Seriously, enough.”
She watched him turn on his heel and walk away. Sitting on the edge of the bed in the large room, she felt like a stranger. She didn’t belong here.
Harper Miller was part of his old life, not the new one.
At eighteen years old, she’d seen the heartache her mother had to go through. Ian didn’t move towns.
No, her father decided to stay in the same town, moving to the good part of it, the wealthy part. When she went shopping with her mother, they’d see him with his new trophy wife.
Looking back, Harper should have known her mother wasn’t happy, that she was finding it hard to cope, but she didn’t see it in time.