“So that's it?” Harper said, standing up. The warmth she'd felt moments ago evaporated, replaced by a familiar sting of rejection. 

“Harper…”

“Oh, you're about to mansplain why this is for my good?”

“Harper!”

“No? You’ll just explain things in that special way. Why did you get me comfortable, and then I should leave?”

“How special do you want it to be?”

“You decide.” Harper threw up her hands. “How do you plan to crush my spirit tonight?”

Ivan ran a hand through his hair, not meeting her eyes. 

“How can you go from stalker talk to throwing me out in one go?”

“I'm not throwing you out. You don't know…”

Harper felt fire in her chest. “How refreshing. Classics. 'You don't know.'”

“That's not…”

“Right. When cornered, imply the woman is too emotional or ignorant to understand the situation?”

“You're being ridiculous.”

“At least I'm entertaining while I'm annoying.”

She got up, and Charlie scrambled to follow her. “You know what? You're right.” She nodded. “I should go home.”

Ivan stepped in front of her path to the door. “Wait.”

“Changing your mind? Again?”

They stared at each other for a moment or two, and Harper could see concern in his gaze.

“I promised to keep you safe,” Ivan said eventually.

Harper's laugh was bitter. “Of course. This isn't about what you want or what I need.”

Ivan's expression darkened. “You think this is about your father?”

For the moment, she recalled how Ivan crashed Owen’s family in her past life. She laughed, sharp and cold.

“Loyalty to Henry? That’s rich, coming from you.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re opaque.”

“...”

“What, no comeback?” Harper raised an eyebrow. “That's disappointing. Or is this some noble act I’m supposed to buy?”

“It’s not…”

“Is it not?”

“I care…”

“Oh, stop it!” She shouted.

They stood there, glaring, while the black Labrador whined softly at the rising tension.

Buzz. Ivan didn’t even glance at the phone. “We both need sleep.”

“On my way home.”

“Harper…”

She headed for the door now. “Thanks for the tea and whatever. It was nice while it lasted.”

Ivan’s hand caught hers, gentle but firm. “I can't let you go home alone.”

“So now I'm a prisoner?”

“You're under protection.”

“A difference?”

Ivan rubbed his temples. “Can we not fight? Stay. Take the bedroom. I'll have work to take care of anyway.”

“So, I'm staying, but as your unwilling houseguest?” She crossed her arms. 

“You're staying because it's not safe for you to be alone right now.”

“According to who?”

Ivan was quiet for a long moment. “According to everyone who gives a damn about you.”

Harper’s anger softened, replaced by bone-deep fatigue. The memories of the bridge, strange calls, and emails weighed on her.

“Fine,” she said finally. “I'll stay. But I'm not happy about it.”

“Noted.”

“And Charlie sleeps with me.”

Ivan glanced down at the dog, now sitting between them like a furry mediator.

“I don't think Charlie…”

“Charlie gets to choose,” Harper interrupted. “Don't you, boy?”

Charlie padded to Harper, sitting at her feet with unwavering devotion, his brown eyes steadily set on her.

“Traitor,” Ivan muttered, a faint smile breaking through.

The moonlight floodedIvan’s bedroom, casting soft shadows that made the space feel intimate. Harper had borrowed one of the t-shirts to sleep in, lay on the bed, and Charlie curled against her back, his warmth giving her comfort. His steady breathing was the only sound in the room. 

Harper stared at the ceiling as she tried to forget what kind of secrets Ivan wanted to keep from her, and how everything came to its end.

She could hear him moving around the living room, making phone calls, typing. Then she heard a soft click of him turning off the lights. The apartment felt charged with tension and unspoken words now.

Harper could hear Ivan's restless movements. He was having as much trouble sleeping as she was. He’d found her and stayed through the night, now he was pulling away.

She woke to voices in the living room. Morning was streaming through the windows, and Charlie was no longer beside her..

Harper slipped into yesterday’s clothes, her bare feet felt cold on the hardwood as she cracked the bedroom door open.

A woman stood with Ivan, tall and blonde, dressed impeccably despite the early hour.

May. 

She held a leather bag and what looked like Harper's coat.

“I brought her items from the office,” she was saying in a crisp tone. “Here.”

Charlie, usually eager for attention, hovered near the kitchen. He was eyeing May with wary distrust, and his tail stayed still.

“Thank you, May,” Ivan said, taking the bag. “I'll make sure she gets them.”

“How is she?” May's voice carried what might have been genuine concern. “After everything?”

“She's... processing.”

“She's lucky you found her. Things could’ve been much worse.”

Harper pushed the door open and stepped into the living room. “Good morning.”

Both Ivan and May turned to look at her. The woman's expression was carefully neutral, and Ivan looked like he'd been caught mid-thought.

“Ms. Owen,” May said smoothly. “I brought your things. I hope you're feeling better.”

“Wonderful,” Harper replied, taking the bag, her tone laced with sarcasm.

Charlie chose that moment to slink further away from May, practically hiding behind Harper's legs. The dog's obvious discomfort was impossible to ignore.

“Charlie doesn't seem to like you very much,” Harper observed.

May's smile was thin. “Some animals are just naturally suspicious of strangers.”

“Aha.” Harper’s voice dripped with mockery. “Good boy.”

“Perhaps he senses people in despair,” May shot back coldly.

Harper kept her smile sharp. “Or people who bring drama.”

May’s eyes narrowed, but she left without another word, the door clicking shut behind her.

Harper sank onto the couch with her recovered belongings, and Charlie showed her moral support. Ivan brought her a mug of warm milk, settling on the opposite side of her.

“Am I a child now?” Harper glared, but took a sip. “What’s going on?”

“Can we not do this now?”

“Do what?”

“Harper…”

“I'm serious.” She turned to face him fully. “Today, your assistant has brought my belongings as if I'm never going back. What changed?”

Ivan was quiet for a long moment, staring into his coffee. 

“Ahh.” Harper sighed heavily. “This is why I ended up on that bridge. Everyone makes decisions about my life without asking.”

“Harper!..”

She turned to face him. “Even your assistant knows more than I do.”

“You have to trust…”

“Trust?” Harper laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You want me to trust you while you're hiding things?”

“I'm not hiding.”

“Fine. You’re not telling the truth. Same result.”

“...” Ivan’s face tightened, a struggle playing out in his eyes.

“Still nothing? Guess you hate me.”

“I don't hate you,” he said quietly.

She looked at him. “Hate would be easier.”

“Yes.” He met her eyes firmly. “I would be.”

They went silent, processing what’d been voiced out, and what’d remained untold.

“Can I ask you something?” Harper said, breaking the quiet.

“Shoot.”

“If the situations were reversed, how would you feel?”

“Furious,” he admitted.

“And helpless?”

“Yeah.”

“And people controlling you?”

Ivan exhaled. “Point taken.”

“What are you not telling me?”

“The same thing you're not telling me.”

“If we’re partners, act like it.”

They stared at each other across the coffee table, both holding secrets, both afraid to trust.

“This is insane,” Harper smiled, confused, lost in this fractured timeline.

“Insane?” Ivan’s brow arched. “Try maddening.”

“Yet here we are, playing house with a dog smarter than both of us.”

“Charlie’s the only one with sense,” Ivan quipped, but his voice was flat, his eyes drifting to the window.

Harper caught the distance, the wall he was building. She looked at Ivan with no understanding of what was happening to her in this timeline. 

Her phone rang, the sound slicing through the tension. The caller ID made her rap out.

“Who is it?” Ivan asked, worrisome.

The number was one she recognized but hadn't expected to see. She looked up at Ivan, seeing her nervousness reflected in his eyes.

Her thumb swiped for decline. After a split-second choice, she scrolled to another contact. “I’m done with secrets.”

“What are you doing?” Ivan asked.

Harper held up a finger, waiting for the call to connect. When it did, her voice was calm but urgent.

She pressed call, her voice steady but urgent. “Come get me here, ASAP.” She rattled off Ivan’s address. “I’ll explain when you get here.”

She hung up and glanced at Ivan, whose expression had shifted from confusion to alarm.

“Who did you just call?” he asked. “Harper…”

She met Ivan’s stunned gaze. “You’ve seen the worst of me in these past days. And I forgot…” She paused. “We are business partners, and nothing more than that.”

Harper bolted to the bathroom, Charlie trailing her. She sank against the door, burying her face in his fur, fighting tears as the weight of betrayal crashed down.