Updated Feb 18, 2026 • ~6 min read
Miles’s sentencing happens two weeks later.
Harlow doesn’t attend. She’s done with him. Done with courtrooms. Done with the entire disaster.
But she watches the news coverage from Sage’s apartment.
Miles stands in an orange jumpsuit. Hands cuffed. Looking nothing like the arrogant tech founder she married.
He looks broken.
The judge is not sympathetic.
“Mr. Hartford, you committed fraud on a massive scale. You hid millions from your wife, your investors, and the IRS. You perjured yourself. You showed no remorse.” The judge’s voice is stern. “You are sentenced to eighteen years in federal prison. No parole eligibility for twelve years.”
Eighteen years.
Miles will be fifty when he gets out.
If he gets out.
Harlow should feel vindicated.
Instead, she feels… empty.
This is what she wanted. Miles punished. Justice served.
But it doesn’t undo the damage. Doesn’t give her back the years she lost. Doesn’t erase the scandal.
It’s just… over.
Roman is beside her. Watching.
“How do you feel?” he asks.
“I don’t know. Relieved, maybe. But also sad.”
“Sad for him?”
“Sad for who I thought he was. The man I married. Before I knew what he really was.”
Roman nods. “That’s fair.”
They turn off the news.
And Harlow thinks: This chapter is closed.
Miles is going to prison. The settlement is finalized. The divorce is done.
Now she gets to move forward.
Actually forward. Not just surviving.
Building.
The money hits Harlow’s account three days later.
Six million, two hundred thousand dollars.
She stares at the number on her phone.
It’s surreal.
Three months ago, she was living on ramen and tips from a diner.
Now she’s a millionaire.
“What’s the first thing you’re going to buy?” Sage asks.
“I don’t know. A house, probably. Something stable. A place to actually live instead of just survive.”
“What about Roman? Are you buying together?”
Harlow hasn’t thought about that.
Are they buying together? Moving in together permanently?
They’ve been together for over a year. Lived together out of necessity.
But is that the same as choosing to build a life together?
“I don’t know,” she says honestly. “We haven’t talked about it.”
“You should. Before you spend millions on a house.”
Harlow knows Sage is right.
She and Roman need to talk.
About the future. About what they want. About whether this relationship is strong enough to survive stability instead of just crisis.
That night, Harlow broaches the subject.
“We should talk,” she says.
Roman looks up from his book. “That’s never a good opening.”
“It’s not bad. Just… important.”
“Okay. What do you want to talk about?”
“Us. The future. What we’re doing now that the crisis is over.”
Roman sets down his book. “What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know. That’s the problem. For the past year, we’ve been in survival mode. Fighting. Struggling. Barely making it. But now…” Harlow gestures vaguely. “Now we have options. Money. Freedom. And I don’t know what to do with that.”
“What do you want?”
“I want to know if this is real. If we’re real. Or if we only work when everything is falling apart.”
Roman is quiet for a moment.
Then he says, “I think we’re real. But I also think we need to figure out who we are outside of crisis mode.”
“How do we do that?”
“We try. We build a normal life. See if we’re compatible when things aren’t terrible.”
“And if we’re not?”
“Then we figure that out too.”
It’s not the romantic answer Harlow wanted.
But it’s honest.
And honesty is all they have left.
“Okay,” she says. “Let’s try. Let’s build something normal. See what happens.”
“Together?”
“Together.”
They agree to look for a house. Something they both like. Somewhere in Seattle where they can start fresh.
Not running anymore. Not hiding.
Just… living.
House hunting is surreal.
Harlow can afford basically anything. Any neighborhood. Any size.
It’s overwhelming.
Roman is cautious. “Don’t spend all six million on a house. You need to invest. Save. Be smart.”
“I know. But I want something nice. After everything, don’t we deserve nice?”
“We deserve stable. Nice is a bonus.”
They compromise.
Find a townhouse in Capitol Hill. Three bedrooms. Updated kitchen. A backyard.
Not a mansion. But comfortable. Safe.
A place they can actually call home.
Harlow makes an offer. All cash. Gets accepted immediately.
Closing is in thirty days.
And suddenly, she’s a homeowner.
“This is insane,” she says, standing in the empty house. Their house. “Three months ago I was sleeping on a friend’s couch. Now I own property.”
“Life’s weird like that.”
“Are you okay? With this? With me buying a house?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because it’s mine. My money. My settlement. You didn’t contribute.”
Roman looks at her. “Harlow, I don’t need to contribute financially to be part of this relationship. I contributed by supporting you. By going through hell with you. That’s worth more than money.”
“But you’re unemployed—”
“For now. I’m working on appeals. Declan’s helping. I might get my license back. Or I might do something else. But either way, I’m not with you for your money.”
“I know that.”
“Do you? Because it sounds like you’re questioning whether I belong in this new life you’re building.”
Harlow realizes he’s right.
She is questioning it.
Not because she doesn’t love him. But because she’s scared.
Scared that now that the crisis is over, they won’t work.
Scared that their love was born from trauma and can’t survive stability.
Scared that she’s going to lose him anyway.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m just… I don’t know how to do this. The normal life thing.”
“Neither do I. But we’ll figure it out.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
They stand in their empty house.
And Harlow tries to believe that this will work.
That they can build something real.
That love born from disaster can survive peace.
She wants to believe it.
She just doesn’t know if she can.
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