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earthtoharlow · 4 months ago

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From the Dining Table

chapter 01

20 Years Ago

Jack sat on the couch with his hands pressed against his head, hoping that the pressure against his temples would stop the war that was going through his mind. The engagement ring sat on the coffee table between them. Across from him sat actress Scarlett Hayes, his fiancée for barely six months—she stared at him in disbelief, her voice shaking.

“Are you trying to hurt me?” Scarlett whispered, her fingers curled around the edge of the chair, as if holding on to something, anything would keep her from crashing out.

Jack couldn’t even look at her. He knew her eyes were full of questions that he didn’t have the strength or balls to answer. Jack’s chest tightened as her voice grew louder, more desperate.

“Talk to me! We’ve been through too much for you to just walk away like this. You owe me a reason.”

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. The words were stuck in his throat, a tangled mess of guilt, fear, and love. How could he tell Scarlett that it wasn’t her fault? That he was breaking her heart to save her from something worse? That deep down, he wasn’t sure he was the man she deserved?

“I can’t,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

Scarlett stood up, the chair scraping harshly against the floor. “You can’t what? You can’t explain? You can’t love me anymore? What?” Her frustration spilled over, and she ran a hand through her hair, pacing the room. “Do you even care about how this is affecting me? I thought we were happy, I thought we were going to—”

“Stop.” Jack's voice cracked. He could barely stand hearing her hope shatter with every word. But still, he couldn’t give her the explanation she wanted. What was he supposed to say? That he wasn’t ready? That he felt like he was losing himself in this life they were building? That his career, his demons, and the past he carried were dragging him away from the future they were supposed to share?

“I can’t do this right now,” he muttered, his eyes glued to the floor. “I’m sorry.”

Her eyes welled up, and she stood there for a moment, staring at him like he was a stranger. He knew what she was thinking—how could someone who claimed to love her so deeply suddenly become so distant?

“I deserve better than this,” she finally said, her voice barely holding together. “I deserve to know why.”

Jack clenched his fists, resisting the urge to pull her into his arms, to kiss her forehead like he used to and tell her everything would be alright. But he couldn’t make that promise anymore. The truth was, he didn’t trust himself not to hurt her again. He wasn’t the man she needed him to be.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, and it felt hollow, empty—just like him. He stood up and walked toward the door without looking back. She didn’t try to stop him this time.

Just as his hand reached for the doorknob, her voice pierced the silence, sharp and broken.

“I hate you.”

Jack froze, his back still to her. The weight of those three words hit him harder than anything she could have said. He felt it in his chest, a pain so deep it was almost physical.

“You’re pathetic, I hate you,” she said again, louder this time. “And I’ll always hate you.”

He stood there, unable to move, Scarlett’s words echoing in his mind. He deserved them. Every last syllable. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

Without turning around, he opened the door and walked out, leaving behind the woman he loved more than anything, knowing she would never forgive him. Knowing he had lost her forever and it was all his fault.

***

Twenty years later, Scarlett sat in front of a row of reporters at a press junket for her latest film. The years had been kind to her—she’d rebuilt her life, piece by piece, becoming one of the most respected actresses in the world. She was on the brink of becoming an EGOT winner—a feat few could claim.

Life had moved on, and so had she. She’d married another actor a few years after the breakup. They had a beautiful daughter together, though the marriage didn’t last. Despite the divorce, she and her ex-husband had managed to co-parent well, and their daughter, Maya, now 14, was the light of her life.

Yet, certain memories from the past had a way of creeping into her mind when she least expected it.

As the last few questions were being asked, one reporter raised their hand. “What advice would you give to the person you were 20 years ago?”

Scarlett paused. The question wasn’t unusual, but it took her by surprise. Twenty years ago. The number tugged at her, pulling her back to a version of herself she hadn’t thought about in a long time. A version who’d just had her engagement broken off without an explanation. A version who felt shattered, blindsided, and unsure of where to go next.

She took a breath before answering, her voice calm and thoughtful. “I would tell her to trust herself more. To understand that sometimes the things that break you aren’t meant to destroy you, but to reshape you into someone stronger.” She paused, her eyes softening, as if she were talking directly to her younger self. “And that the pain, as overwhelming as it might feel in the moment, will eventually become the foundation for the person you’re supposed to become.”

She smiled, a small, almost private one, as if the advice wasn’t just for the person she was 20 years ago, but also for herself in the present. The reporters scribbled down her response, sensing there was more behind her words than just a general piece of advice.

But Scarlett didn’t elaborate. She thanked the reporter for the thoughtful question and moved on to the next, keeping the rest of her thoughts to herself.

When Scarlett returned to her hotel room. She closed the door softly, the quiet of the room a welcome contrast to the frenzy of the press junket. Dropping her purse on the table, she exhaled deeply, trying to shake off the emotions that had surfaced when she answered that last question. Memories of the past always had a way of creeping back when she least expected it.

Maya was lounging on the couch, looking up from her phone as Scarlett walked in. She was 14, full of energy and curiosity, with the kind of bright eyes that reminded Scarlett of herself at that age. But there was also a resilience in her daughter—one that seemed far beyond her years.

“Hey, Mom,” Maya called out casually, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “How did it go?”

She smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It went well. Same questions, different faces.”

Maya set her phone down, sitting up a little straighter. “You look tired. Want me to order room service or something?”

Scarlett chuckled softly. “Maybe in a bit.”

Maya hesitated for a moment before her expression shifted to something more excited. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something. And don’t say no right away.”

“Oh boy,” Scarlett said, playfully bracing herself as she sat down on the edge of the bed. “What is it?”

“Well,” Maya began, drawing out the word like she was preparing for a big reveal, “I found out that while we’re in town, Jack Harlow is performing. And… I really want to go.”

Scarlett’s stomach knotted instantly at the thought. Jack Harlow. The man who had walked out of her life without an explanation two decades ago. The rapper who had become even more successful over the years, topping charts with multiple number-one albums and winning five Grammys. He was everywhere, even if they had managed to avoid each other at every awards show, every industry event, every red carpet. They had perfected the art of pretending the other didn’t exist.

Now, the idea of seeing him again—of watching him perform while sitting in the audience with her daughter—made her chest tighten. But how could she say no to Maya? She adored her daughter, and Maya was at the age where she idolized the rapper, just like millions of others.

She swallowed, trying to keep her expression neutral. “Jack Harlow….?”

“Yes!” Her daughter’s eyes lit up with excitement. “I’ve been dying to see him live, and it’s crazy that we’re here at the same time. Please, Mom? I know you’re busy this week, but I have to go to this concert. It would be amazing.”

Scarlett tried to keep her tone casual as she spoke. “You know, sweetie, maybe your dad could take you to the concert instead? I’m sure he’d love to go with you.”

Maybe paused, looking at her mom in disbelief. “Dad?” she asked, as if the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. “No way.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Why not? He loves concerts, we used to go to concerts all the time together before you were born.”

Maya plopped down on the bed, shaking her head firmly. “Mom, you don’t understand. Dad can be so embarrassing sometimes. I mean, he’d probably try to rap along to the songs and think he’s cool, or worse—he’d make some weird joke in front of people. I can’t have that happening in front of him,” she said, referring to Jack.

Scarlett stifled a laugh. She knew her ex-husband’s quirky sense of humor all too well. He was a great dad, but yeah… maybe not the best choice for a situation like this. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be that bad,” she tried.

Maya wasn’t convinced. “Mom, I love Dad, but he’s not exactly cool, you know? When you mention TikTok he thinks you’re talking about that Kesha song.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Please, Mom. You’re way cooler.”

Scarlett sighed, her plan to avoid the concert quickly unraveling. “I don’t know, honey,” she said, hesitating. “It’s just… I’ve got a lot going on with the press tour, and I might be too tired. Maybe—”

Maya looked at her, wide-eyed and pleading. “Mom, this is literally a once-in-a-lifetime thing. You’re always working. Just this once, can’t we do something fun together? Please?”

She felt a pang of guilt. She had been so focused on her career, the press, and everything else that had happened over the years that she hadn’t made enough time for moments like this with her daughter.

But the idea of being at his concert, seeing him again, was terrifying. Still, as she looked at her daughter, who was practically begging her, Scarlett found herself trapped. Maya didn’t deserve to be punished for something that had happened long before she was born.

“Okay,” she said, surprising herself with how steady her voice sounded. “We’ll go.”

Maya squealed, reaching over to hug her tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! This is going to be the best night ever!”

***

Backstage, Jack sat in front of the mirror, his head bowed as he tied his new balance. His crew moved in and out of the dressing room, prepping for another sold-out show. Tonight was special. Every show was, but something about performing in this city always felt like coming home.

His phone buzzed on the counter beside him, but he ignored it, focusing instead on the rhythm pulsing in his veins. It was the pre-show adrenaline, the high he chased every time he stepped on stage. The crowd would be chanting his name in a few minutes, and he needed to be in the zone.

Urban pushed through the door camera in hand and a knowing grin plastered on his face.

“You’ll never guess who’s here tonight,” Urban said, his voice full of intrigue.

Jack didn’t look up, a half-smile tugging at his lips. Urban always had something to say, always some gossip or story to break up the tension. He figured it was just one of the usual celebrity guests, a fan or two from another showbiz circle.

“Who?” he asked, humoring him as he stood and stretched out his arms, preparing himself mentally for the setlist.

Urban leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, that grin not fading. “I’m serious, man. You’ll never believe it.”

“Alright, then. Hit me with it. Who’s in the building?” he asked, half-paying attention, still in his pre-show mode.

Urban paused for dramatic effect, letting the silence stretch just long enough before dropping the bombshell. “The one that got away.”

Jack laughed, shaking his head as he grabbed his jacket from the chair. “Man, stop playing. I ain’t got time for that.”

Urban didn’t blink. Didn’t laugh. Just stood there, his smile shifting into something more serious. “I’m not joking. She’s here. She came to see you.”

Jack froze, his hand hovering just above the jacket. For a second, he thought Urban was still messing with him. But Urban didn’t play like this—at least not about her.

He turned slowly, raising an eyebrow. “Who you talkin’ about?”

Urban didn’t miss a beat. “Scarlett Hayes.”

At first, all Jack could do was shake his head, the disbelief settling in. He laughed again, though this time it came out more as a breath of surprise than humor. “Nah. You’re trippin’. No way.”

But Urban’s expression didn’t budge. “I’m telling you, she’s here. Saw her myself. Came in with her daughter, I think.”

His heart stopped for just a moment. Her. After all these years?

Twenty years since they’d last spoken, twenty years since he’d walked out of that apartment without looking back, twenty years since the day she told him she hated him. The memories flooded back in an instant—the way her voice had cracked, the look in her eyes when he left her without an explanation. He had convinced himself long ago that he wouldn’t see her again. Not face-to-face. Their worlds were too big, their circles wide enough to avoid each other. And they had—for two decades.

But now?

“She’s really here?” he asked, his voice quieter this time, disbelief still hanging in the air.

Urban nodded. “Yup. Sitting somewhere out there with her kid. And from what I heard, it wasn’t even her idea to come. The girl wanted to see the show.”

Jack let out a low whistle, shaking his head as he processed it. Of all the people who could’ve been in the audience tonight, Scarlett was the last person he’d expected. Part of him had always wondered if they’d cross paths again, if there’d ever be a moment where the universe would force them into the same room, the same space. But after all these years, he had convinced himself it wouldn’t happen.

And now she was here.

He cleared his throat, feeling the weight of it settle over him. “Guess she couldn’t avoid me forever, huh?”

Urban chuckled. “Seems that way. But what you gonna do about it?”

Jack hesitated for a beat, staring at his reflection in the mirror, trying to reconcile the man he was now with the man who left her behind so long ago. He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t even sure if she would want to see him after everything that had happened.

“I don’t know,” he muttered, shaking his head, trying to focus on the show ahead of him. “But I know one thing. I ain’t letting it mess up my set.”

Urban gave him a knowing look, camera still in hand. “Good call, but she’s here, man. And something tells me the past ain’t just stayin’ in the past tonight.”

With that, Urban turned and left the room, leaving Jack alone with the thought that after two decades, she was finally in his world again. And for the first time in years, he didn’t know how to feel.

***

Jack stood center stage and took in the sold out crowd. This was his zone, his sanctuary, where nothing could touch him—where he controlled the crowd and their energy, night after night.

But tonight, something felt different. His mind kept drifting, thoughts circling back to what Urban had said backstage. Scarlett here. He had tried to shake it off, but the thought gnawed at him, even as he performed. The crowd roared louder as he transitioned into his next song, one that hadn’t been on the original setlist but was a personal favorite for fans.

“Can I slow things down for a little bit?” Jack asked the crowd as he grabbed the mic stand. The opening chords echoed through the stadium, and a hush fell over the audience. They recognized it immediately. It wasn’t one of the hits that charted on Billboard or made it onto the radio, but it was the song that fans knew had come from the deepest part of him. It was the song he wrote about Scarlett around the time he first met her.

Yeah, they fine, but they not you. You a catch and I caught you. I wanna pull up and flaunt you and take some pics for Getty Images. I like all your beauty marks and blemishes…

The lights dimmed, and the spotlight shone solely on him as he moved across the stage when he looked out into the crowd, he saw her.

Scarlett was there, in the crowd, just like Urban said. In the sea of faces, she stood out—her face illuminated by the soft glow of the stage lights, eyes locked on him. For a split second, the entire world fell away. His breath hitched in his throat, the words almost dying on his lips as they stared at each other. It was like time had stopped, and all the years between them collapsed into this moment.

She hadn’t changed much—still as stunning as she had been when they were younger, though there was something deeper, wiser about her now. She wasn’t the woman he’d left behind; she had evolved, become someone bigger, stronger, untouchable in her success. But her eyes… her eyes still held that same fire.

The next line came out rougher, almost a whisper:

Girl, you're poison, poison, poison, poison, but the good kind. It's crazy how you're on my mind. Kind of crazy how you're on my mind

Jack remembered everything—how he left, how she had yelled at him, tears in her eyes as she said she hated him, how he hadn’t been able to say a single word back. He had never told her the real reason, had never given her the closure she deserved.

The final beat hit, and the crowd erupted, cheering wildly, oblivious to the tension swirling beneath the surface. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. She hadn’t moved, her expression unreadable from where he stood, but he could feel the energy between them—like a cord that had been stretched thin for years was finally being tugged back into place.

For a moment, he thought about saying something, about calling out to Scarlett right there in front of everyone. But what would he even say? How do you fix something that’s been broken for two decades?

Instead, he just stood there, the mic heavy in his hand, staring at the woman he had never really stopped thinking about, wondering if she would turn and walk away like he had so many years ago.

Urban standing off to the side of the stage with his camera, had been watching everything. He saw the moment Jack’s eyes locked with hers in the crowd. He knew his friend better than anyone, knew that despite all the bravado, all the fame and success, there was still a part of him that had never gotten over her. And there was no way in hell he was going to let this moment slip by.

Jack handed off the mic to his stagehand, blinking as if trying to clear his head, but Urban was already a step ahead. He turned to Jack’s manager standing near the stage, a determined look on his face.

“Yo, get them backstage,” Urban ordered, his voice low but firm.

Kat raised an eyebrow. “You mean—”

“Scarlett Hayes. Her and her daughter. Bring them back here. Now,” Urban insisted, waving his hand toward where they’d been sitting. “Don’t make a scene, but get it done. He’s not gonna have the balls to do it himself.”

Kat hesitated for a split second but then nodded, understanding the urgency. This wasn’t just a regular concert guest—it was someone who could change everything for the man they all worked for. She quickly made her way toward the crowd, slipping through unnoticed as the concert continued.

Meanwhile, backstage, Jack had retreated to his dressing room, the rush of the show fading as reality crashed back in. He had avoided Scarlett for so long, convinced himself that whatever they had was buried in the past, but seeing her out there had brought it all rushing back. He ran a hand over his face, pacing the small space, still replaying that moment in his head—the way her eyes had locked on his, the way she hadn’t moved an inch, frozen in place just like him.

Urban burst into the room, camera hanging from his neck, smirking like he knew exactly what had to be done.

“What the hell was that, man?” Urban asked, leaning against the doorframe with a grin. “You looked like you saw a ghost.”

Jack shot him a look, but his usual cocky demeanor was nowhere to be found. “I wasn’t expecting to actually see… her.” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the weight of it all.

“No kidding,” Urban said with a knowing smile. “You gonna go talk to her?”

He hesitated. “Man, I don’t know. It’s been too long. What’s there to say?”

Urban crossed his arms, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “You’re telling me after all these years, you’re gonna let this slip? Scarlett is here, in the same building, and you’re just gonna pretend like you didn’t see her?”

Jack opened his mouth to argue but couldn’t find the words. Urban was right. This was a once-in-a-lifetime moment, but the fear—the same fear that made him walk away all those years ago—was creeping back in.

Urban could see it. He rolled his eyes and stepped forward. “You know what? Don’t worry about it. I already handled it.”

Jack frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“I told Kat to bring her backstage,” Urban said nonchalantly, like it was no big deal. “Figured you’d need a little push.”

Jack’s eyes widened in shock, his heart leaping into his throat. “You did what?”

Urban shrugged, unbothered. “Relax. I didn’t have them drag her here or anything. Just made sure she knows she’s welcome. I know you, man. You’d never make the move on your own.”

Jack stared at him, panic swirling in his chest. Part of him wanted to bolt, to disappear before she showed up, but another part—maybe the part that had been carrying this regret for twenty years—knew this was his chance. This was the moment he had been avoiding, but also the one he couldn’t let slip away.

Before he could respond, there was a knock at the door.

His heart stopped.

Urban shot him a quick look, raising an eyebrow. “That’s your cue.”

Jack took a deep breath, steeling himself as he walked toward the door. When he opened it, his breath caught in his throat.

There she was. Standing in front of him was the woman who had once been his entire world, but as soon as Scarlett saw him, her expression became eerily calm, like she was slipping into a role she’d played many times before. She smiled—a smile he recognized all too well—and extended her hand toward him, as though they were meeting for the very first time.

“Hi,” she said smoothly, her voice dripping with polite indifference. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m—”

“Nice to meet you,” Jack interrupted, his voice tense as he took her hand, gripping it lightly. The casualness of the gesture was almost unbearable. The weight of their history was right there between them, but she was pretending like it didn’t exist.

Her daughter, Maya meanwhile, wasn’t pretending at all. She stood beside her mother, wide-eyed and practically bouncing with excitement. The second she saw Jack, she let out a tiny squeal, covering her mouth with her hands, her gaze darting between him and her mother as if this were some kind of dream.

“Mom! Oh my God, it’s really him!” Maya whispered loudly, her excitement spilling over. “You didn’t tell me we’d actually meet him!”

Scarlett, still holding onto her mask of politeness, glanced at her daughter with a calm smile. “Well, sweetheart, it was a surprise. I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

Jack blinked, momentarily stunned by the surrealness of the moment. Scarlett was really going to do this—pretend they’d never met, never loved, never been ripped apart at the seams. And her daughter had no idea.

The girl’s energy was infectious, though, and she stepped forward eagerly, her hands trembling as she extended her phone toward Jack. “Can I—can I please get a picture? This is like, the coolest thing ever! I’ve been a fan for years! I love all your songs!”

Jack glanced at Scarlett , searching her eyes for some kind of signal, but all he found was that same polite smile, so perfectly controlled. He swallowed his emotions, nodding toward Maya with a forced grin. “Of course. Anything for a fan.”

Maya practically jumped up and down, handing her phone over to Urban, who was grinning like he knew something nobody else did. The girl bounced to Jack’s side, beaming up at him as he put an arm around her for the picture.

Scarlett stood off to the side, watching the whole thing with a detached expression, her hands folded in front of her. She looked like a spectator in her own life, watching from a distance as her daughter unknowingly gushed over the man who had once broken her mother’s heart.

After the photo was taken, Maya looked up at Jack, her eyes wide with admiration. “I can’t believe this is happening. You’re such a legend! I’ve been to all your concerts. Mom, isn’t this crazy?”

Scarlett smiled again, that same well-practiced smile. “It’s quite something,” she agreed lightly, not giving anything away.

Jack looked at her, his chest tightening. He could see what she was doing—how she was keeping everything locked up, pretending like this was just another encounter, but it felt like a punch to the gut. He wanted to say something, anything, to break through that wall she’d built, but every word he thought of got stuck in his throat.

Maya, still buzzing with excitement, pulled her phone back out. “Oh! Can I get your autograph, too? I didn’t bring anything to sign, but I have my concert shirt! Wait, do you need a pen?” She began frantically digging through her bag, clearly overwhelmed by the moment.

As Maya fumbled with her things, Jack looked back at the actress, who was watching him with that same unreadable expression. He couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t let this moment slip by without acknowledging what was really happening.

“You sure we haven’t met before?” he asked quietly, his voice low so her daughter wouldn’t hear.

Scarlett paused for a moment, her eyes locking with his. For a split second, something flickered there—something real, raw, and unguarded. But just as quickly, she blinked, and the mask was back in place.

“I’m sure,” she said softly, her tone as smooth as ever. “Just two strangers, passing through.”

And with that, she turned her attention back to Maya, who had finally found a pen.

Jack swallowed hard, nodding numbly as he took the pen from the girl. “Yeah,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “Just two strangers.”

***

AN: Hello hi ! New series! Please please please let me know what you think and if you’d like to see this series continued 🙂‍↕️

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