Vineyard Dreams (Beyond The Red Carpet #4)

Chapter 17

17

H arper jolted awake, her heart hammering against her ribs. Sweat dampened her skin, the sheets tangled around her legs. Blood stained her mind’s eye, Clara’s blood pooling across the floor, her own anguished screams echoing in her mind as she held Clara’s lifeless body.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you.” Elle’s arms encircled her, solid and warm. The mattress dipped as Elle pulled her closer.

Harper’s breath came in ragged gasps. The darkness pressed in, but Elle’s presence anchored her to reality. She didn’t even remember falling asleep. It must have been nearly four o’clock in the morning when they’d finally given into the exhaustion.

“I keep seeing it.” Harper’s voice cracked. “Every detail. The way Clara’s hand went limp. How Lena wouldn’t let go even after...” She pressed her face into Elle’s shoulder.

“That scene destroyed me when I watched it.” Elle’s fingers traced soothing circles on Harper’s back. “You’re okay,” Elle whispered after a moment, kissing her head, her fingers slowly gliding up and down her back.

The nightmare’s grip began to loosen. Harper concentrated on Elle’s steady heartbeat, the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Slowly, her own breathing settled into a matching rhythm.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Harper whispered into the darkness.

“I’m glad I was here.” Elle’s lips brushed Harper’s forehead. “You don’t have to carry this alone anymore.”

Harper traced her fingers along Elle’s collarbone, her throat tight with emotion. “Sometimes I feel like such a fraud. Lena fought so hard, risked everything. And what have I done? Made some movies, gave some speeches?”

“Stop.” Elle’s hand cupped Harper’s cheek. Even in the darkness, Harper could feel the intensity of Elle’s gaze. “You stood on that Oscar stage and spoke about Lena to millions. Do you know how many young people heard your words? Saw themselves represented?”

Harper shook her head, tears threatening. “But I’m just an actress. I pretended to be brave. Lena actually was.”

“You’re out in Hollywood. You know how rare that still is? How many actors stay closeted because they’re afraid?” Elle’s thumb brushed away a tear from Harper’s cheek. “And you didn’t just play Lena - you brought her story to life. I’d never even heard of her before your film. Now I understand what she fought for, what she lost. What our community went through.”

Harper took a deep breath. “Thank you,” she whispered as she brushed Elle’s hair away from her face. “For seeing me. The real me. Not just the actress.”

“I see you.” Elle’s lips found hers in a tender kiss.

The lingering fear from her nightmare dissolved, replaced by a sense of peace Harper hadn’t felt since before filming began. She settled back against Elle’s shoulder.

“Try to sleep,” Elle murmured, pulling the covers over them both.

Harper closed her eyes, letting Elle’s steady presence lull her back toward sleep.

For the first time in months, she felt truly safe. Protected. Understood.