Before I grab my things to change for bed, I reach for my phone and find several texts from Daniel and Danny. I skip to Danny’s last one and find a message saying he won that leaves me feeling relieved.

“To accomplish great things, we must not only act, but also dream; not only plan, but also believe.”

–Anatole France

Monday morning, I awake to the sounds of the others opening and closing doors with pained attention to being quiet in an attempt to not bother me. I try to sit back and out of the way, while assuring them that I’m fine and won’t need anything while they’re gone as they all make an effort to touch base with me once they realize I’m awake.

When Jameson closes the door behind him, leaving me alone in this house that I once was so comfortable in, I feel a myriad of emotions. Spending time alone here used to feel natural; now it feels foreign as I start focusing on all of the differences. Some of the changes are obvious at first glance, like the new pool table that now sits beside the foosball table in what is supposed to be the formal living room but has always served as a game room. And the coffee table no longer holds the blown glass bowl I’d bought as a housewarming gift. The bowl had been beautiful and a part of me wants to ask Kendall about it in hopes that it was just moved.

I slowly make my way through the house, searching for less noticeable changes—something I haven’t been able to do with Kendall around. All weekend I’d felt it, the sympathy and shyness toward anything that had to do with Max. I don’t know what they all know, or think that they do. I’m not about to begin discussing my feelings, and they seem even more reluctant.

I finish in the kitchen, noting that the glass pitcher that we’d haul out and use when we all sat down and had breakfast together was just one of the many things that I’d brought over that is no longer here.

The stairs taunt me as I pass by them to return to the living room. I’ve been dying to go upstairs and see what Max’s room looks like, and I swear it’s calling to me, daring me to go and see if it’s purged of every last piece of me as well. I pace in front of the flight of steps several times, fighting one of the strongest urges I’ve ever experienced, knowing without a doubt that if I go, it will be a strong intrusion and breach of privacy. But something inside of me pleads to go and look at what his room looks like—know if it smells the same, has the same warm glow with the late morning sunlight, see if I can find even the slightest trace of me.

As my fingers curl around the banister with the promise that I’ll just peek inside and not actually go in, my phone rings, making me nearly jump out of my skin.

My phone lights up with Danny’s face. A swift blow of reality settles in my stomach as I hesitantly reach for it, wondering if he somehow knows what I was about to do.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” His voice is deep and saturated with a resounding relief that makes me feel even guiltier. I’m not sure if the guilt’s intensifying because I’m standing in my ex’s house talking to a guy that I know has feelings for me, or because I’m talking to a guy that I know has feelings for me and am disappointed that it broke my conviction to do something that I know I shouldn’t have considered.

“How was the shower and time with everyone?”

I fall against the couch, leaning into its soft support, trying to summarize the shower so I don’t hint at being upset by my nieces’ reaction to me, or my mom’s complete lack of one. “It was good. Jenny really seemed to enjoy herself, and everyone had a good time.”

“Good, I’m glad. How’d everything go with your mom?”

“Um, it went fine.”

“Did you guys talk?”

“No, not exactly.”

“H, that’s not fine.”

“It wasn’t really the right time or place. We were there to celebrate Jenny, and there was a ton of people. It would have been really awkward to have tried to discuss things,” I reason.

“You know my mom loves you like a fourth daughter. If you need someone else to talk to or just some support, she’d love for you to reach out to her.”

I nod a few times, feeling a new wave of guilt when I consider it, and a number of emotions pass through me at the thought of replacing Sharon, and more prominently, my own mom. “I know, I love your mom too, but right now I just need some time with things. Let them work themselves out. You know?”

“Generally if something is strained or injured, it requires special attention. Like a physical muscle or bone, sometimes they need a cast and time to heal, but afterwards they need physical therapy and strength building.”

“Are you seriously speaking metaphorically to me using your muscles?”

Danny’s laughter greets me, making my lips turn up in response. “God, when are you coming home?”

I feel my smile fade at his words. Home has felt like the most confounding word in the English dictionary since I arrived Friday. Being back in San Diego, I’m enjoying my time with my sisters and friends. I love seeing the Pacific Ocean and her familiar white peaks dotted with surfers. I love the taco trucks—that hands down make better food than any of the Mexican restaurants I’ve tried in Delaware—and the heat from the sidewalk long after the sun has fallen into the ocean. But more than anything, I’ve missed the heavy pull that I feel when I’m here that I don’t know if I somehow forgot, or just never took note of since I haven’t ever been away for so long.

Yet, it has been in Delaware that I’ve been able to begin shedding old fears and habits that have prevented me from being able to fully discover who I am and what I want to do in life. I’ve built new friendships and have been less concerned with walking on eggshells to always ensure that everyone likes me and doing what is expected of me because there, no one expects anything from me. I’m not Ace Bosse, youngest sister in a line of beautiful sisters and daughter to an overachieving philanthropist. I’m not the high school soccer star that had so much potential no one understands why I didn’t continue or the girl who couldn’t decide on a major. I’m also not the girl that everyone knows was really close to her father, who unexpectedly died on May 5, and with it sent me on a downward tailspin. I’m just me. No expectations, no shoes to fill, just Harper.

“H?”

“Sorry.” My thoughts stammer as I work to recall his question. “Thirteen more days.”

“It already feels like you’ve been gone for months.”

“Vinny needs to kick up your workouts, then.”

Danny’s laughter fills the line again, and I can picture his blue eyes dancing with mischief by the tone. “I don’t think Vinny’s going to be able to tire me out enough at this point. I’m pretty sure there’s only one way that I’m going to get a satisfied exhaustion these days.” As soon as his last word fills my head with his insinuation, I hear Vinny’s distinct, gravelly voice yelling for Danny to get off the phone.

“But he sure as hell is going to try,” Danny mutters.

“Tell them all hello for me.”

“They’re all wondering where you are too. Yesterday Frank even showed up with a coffee for you.”

“It will go by really fast. Less than two weeks.”

“No, remember, I’ll be travelling the last week, otherwise I’d be at your sister’s wedding with you. I won’t be back until the Thursday after you return.”

“Don’t worry, Danny, it’s still going to go by fast. You need to stay focused so that everything goes well against The Canary. What were you telling me? Extra training and attention to strained and broken areas?”

“Yeah, yeah.” His tone is light, making my smile return. “What are you going to do today?”

“I don’t know,” I reply, guiltily eyeing the stairs. “The others aren’t off until next week, but I might see if my oldest sister is home.”