The days that followed Harper's impromptu performance felt like a slow exhale—like she had been holding her breath for years, only to realize that, for the first time, she could finally let it go. There was something liberating about the vulnerability she had shown on stage, something that made her feel more alive than she had in a long time.
But life had a way of pulling her back into its rhythm, no matter how much she tried to embrace the unexpected.
The deal with Ashcroft was officially finalized, and the success of the merger brought a wave of congratulations from her colleagues. Her inbox was flooded with emails, her phone with calls, all praising her for a job well done. The accolades felt hollow now, as if they were a distant echo of a version of herself that no longer fit.
She hadn't realized how much she had tied her identity to her work until that moment.
Sitting at her desk in the hotel room the following afternoon, Harper stared at the glowing screen in front of her. She had a meeting scheduled with Philip in an hour, but her mind wasn't there. It was still back in Ridgeport, with Elliot and the music, with the words she had spoken on the stage that felt more like a declaration than a confession.
A soft knock at the door broke her concentration. She looked up to find Lily standing in the doorway, her arms crossed, a grin tugging at her lips.
"Feeling like a superstar after your big performance, huh?" Lily teased.
Harper's lips twitched. "Not quite. I'm still getting used to the idea that I did it."
Lily walked in and perched herself on the edge of the bed. "It was good, Harper. Seriously. You have no idea how much that surprised me."
Harper chuckled, leaning back in her chair. "Trust me, it surprised me, too."
"But what's really going on?" Lily asked, her tone shifting to something more serious. "You're acting like someone who just took a leap off a cliff and didn't even check to see if the water was deep enough."
Harper sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I think I'm starting to realize I've been playing it safe for a long time. All of this"—she gestured toward the laptop, the contracts, the emails—"it doesn't feel like me anymore."
Lily raised an eyebrow. "You've been all about the big deals, the power moves, the high stakes. What's changed?"
Harper paused. The truth hung between them, heavy and undeniable. "I don't know. I guess I'm wondering if this is all I want. The deals, the constant pressure. It feels like I've been running a race I didn't even sign up for."
Lily was silent for a moment, watching Harper closely. "So, what are you going to do about it?"
Harper shook her head, a mix of frustration and uncertainty clouding her thoughts. "I don't know. I don't even know where to begin. I've spent so many years building this career, this life, and now I feel like it's… not mine anymore."
Lily gave her a sympathetic look. "You don't have to have it all figured out right now. Just start with one thing. What's one thing you've wanted to do but haven't because you were too busy with all the rest of this?"
Harper thought about it for a moment. She could picture the answer clearly—the one thing she had always wanted but had never dared to pursue.
"I've always wanted to write," she said quietly. "Not just emails or reports, but stories. Music. Words that mean something."
Lily's eyes widened in surprise. "Harper Williams, the corporate shark, a writer?"
Harper laughed, though it felt bittersweet. "I know it sounds ridiculous. But I've always had ideas in my head, stories and songs, but I buried them under everything else. I didn't think I had the time for it. Or the talent."
Lily stood up and walked over to Harper, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You won't know unless you try. And I think you're finally ready to try."
For a brief moment, Harper allowed herself to imagine a life that wasn't bound by corporate deadlines and pressure. She imagined herself somewhere quieter, writing stories without the constant weight of expectation. The idea felt both liberating and terrifying.
"I think you're right," Harper said, her voice stronger now. "I think I've been running from the very thing I wanted most."
Lily gave her a knowing look. "I'm glad you're waking up to that."
Before Harper could respond, her phone buzzed, jolting her back to reality. She glanced at the screen—it was a message from Elliot.
*Hey, I was thinking of you. Want to meet at The Red Door later?*
Harper's heart skipped a beat. She hadn't seen Elliot since the open mic night, but his presence lingered in the back of her mind.
"Who's that?" Lily asked, noting the way Harper's expression softened.
"Just… someone I met in Ridgeport," Harper said, unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips.
Lily raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin spreading across her face. "Ooh, someone special?"
Harper shook her head, though the warmth in her chest said otherwise. "I don't know. Maybe. But I'm figuring it out."
Lily smirked, clearly not buying it. "You're more complicated than I gave you credit for, Harper. But I'm not going to push. Just don't be afraid to take a chance."
Harper's gaze lingered on the message, her fingers hovering over the keys. She didn't know where things with Elliot might go, but she knew one thing for sure—she wasn't going to shy away from the chance to find out.
And maybe, just maybe, it was time to stop running from the life she hadn't dared to live yet.
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