I hadn't expected Day 2 to start with thunder.
Not from the sky — the weather outside the hotel was surprisingly mild — but the storm that broke out inside the lobby. A glitch with the hotel's reservation system meant a bunch of rooms had been double-booked. The front desk was flooded with guests trying to figure out where they'd sleep for the night.
I stood near the espresso machine, hand wrapped around a lukewarm paper cup, watching the chaos unfold. Harper and Rae were at the center of it — Rae visibly annoyed, arms crossed, while Harper kept her calm, speaking with the concierge in that composed, soft-spoken tone that somehow always made people listen. I'd always noticed that about her. She didn't need to raise her voice to own the room.
Dani appeared beside me. "You believe this? I woke up to a roommate who wasn't even with our team. Random lady named Marsha. Wears night cream that smells like mint and regret."
I chuckled, still watching Harper. "Guess they're scrambling to fix it now."
"Yeah, but they said there may not be enough rooms for everyone to stay paired up. Some people will have to switch, or bunk with others from our team. It's a whole thing."
Ms. Grafton, our team coordinator, eventually made an announcement near the breakfast buffet. "We're rearranging rooms tonight due to the error. Please stay with your team or office department where possible. Updated pairings will be sent via email in the next hour."
I sighed and took a slow sip of my coffee. It wasn't great, but at least it was warm.
The day unfolded in the usual blur of conference sessions and breakouts. Ethan led a hilarious workshop on workplace resilience — including a skit where Maya pretended to be a malfunctioning coffee machine. I caught myself laughing more than usual, relieved that work-related pressure felt far away here.
During lunch, I spotted Harper and Rae chatting by the garden patio. I watched them from across the room, something tightening in my chest. Not jealousy — not really. It was more of a longing. The kind that sat just beneath the surface, never loud but always there. Rae and Harper had a rhythm. They fit, somehow. Not romantically, no. Rae wasn't Harper's girlfriend, but she was something I could never seem to be: established in Harper's world.
Harper glanced over and smiled, waving.
I waved back, quickly tucking my hair behind my ear.
That night, I was halfway through brushing my teeth when my phone buzzed. A message from Dani.
Hey, I'm bunking with Maya tonight, apparently. They asked us to shift around again. You good?
Just as I started to reply, another ping came through — this time from Ms. Grafton.
Room 242: Carly & Harper. Confirmed until check-out. Sorry for the shuffle.
I blinked.
Wait. Harper?
I walked out of the bathroom, toothbrush still in hand, and there she was — standing outside the door, luggage in hand, still in her business casual skirt and cardigan.
"Hey," she said, a little sheepish. "Guess we're roommates tonight."
I swallowed whatever awkward thing had almost escaped my lips and opened the door. "Sure. Come in."
The hotel room was quiet, save for the low hum of the AC. It was one of those double-bed layouts with a small table in between. Harper set her bag down gently, not saying much at first. She looked… tired. Not just end-of-day tired, but something deeper, like it had settled in her bones. I hadn't seen her like that before.
"You okay?" I asked, sitting on the edge of my bed and folding my hands in my lap.
She hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. Just… things. Rae got called away. Her cousin had a minor accident and she had to head out tonight. I didn't want to make it a big deal."
"That's awful. Is the cousin okay?"
"She'll be fine. Just stitches, but Rae's the type to be there no matter what. She's a good one."
I nodded, letting the silence sit between us. It wasn't awkward — just heavy in a way I didn't mind.
Harper changed into joggers and a soft blue t-shirt, her hair down now and her face clean, free of makeup. There was a kind of glow to her — the kind that didn't need effort. She looked at ease. Beautiful, really. It made something in my chest twist.
We ended up talking. Nothing too deep at first — just our first days at work, who was most likely to fall asleep during a meeting (Ethan), and who was secretly competitive (Dani). I found myself laughing again, more than I expected to, the conversation flowing easier than I would've thought.
"You and Rae have been friends since college?" I asked, even though I already knew that, playing with the edge of the hotel blanket and trying to sound casual.
Harper smiled. "She's been my best friend since college. Knows me inside out. But we're like sisters."
Sisters. The word dropped between us like a stone. I should've felt relieved — and maybe I did — but it also stirred something else. I just nodded, lips slightly parted, not sure what to say.
There was a pause.
Then she added, almost as an afterthought, "Loe thinks it's cute how we bicker. He says we sound like an old married couple sometimes."
My stomach dipped. "Loe?"
She looked over, eyebrows raised slightly like she was surprised I didn't know. "My boyfriend. We've been dating for about… a year and a half now? He's traveling this week, otherwise he'd probably be sending memes every ten minutes."
I smiled, even though something inside me folded in a little. "That's nice. He sounds cool."
"He is. Not perfect, but we make it work. He's kind. And he listens."
She didn't notice me go quiet after that.
Eventually, we turned the lights off. The room slipped into darkness, broken only by the orange glow of the streetlamp outside. I lay on my side, facing the wall, eyes wide open as the silence grew around me.
I'd known, deep down, that Harper was probably unavailable — emotionally, romantically, or both. But knowing and hearing it? Two very different things.
Harper had a boyfriend. Harper had a life, a love, a story I wasn't a part of.
And yet, here we were. Sharing a room. A night. A quiet between us that meant something — even if it couldn't go anywhere.
Some stories weren't meant to start.
Others didn't know they'd already begun.