"Lily please, I don't want us to leave the call like this."

"We will speak soon."

"Are you ok?  Tell me you are or I won't sleep."

"It doesn't matter Harry, just sleep."

"Lily, it -."

I ended the call. 

-*-

My physio doesn't work on a Sunday but I had to find an excuse to escape the call with Harry.  I had dug a hole so deep that I had fallen into it and now there was no way out so all that was left for me was to wallow around in misery.

Immediately, I searched her name online whereupon a portfolio of stunning portraits displayed.  With every finger swipe, an abundance of gorgeous images graced my screen; each one taunted me a little more than the last.  The more I viewed, the more I cried, until I was reduced to a snivelling mess.  Even blurred through my tears she was immaculately resplendent. 

Harry had repeatedly attempted to call me back but I declined to answer.  Also, on seeing the headlines online, Olive text me to find out what was going on and check I was okay.  I fobbed her off with an 'it's nothing, he has called me' response.  She has enough on her plate without worrying about me; plus I was in no need of any more turmoil so I switched my phone off completely.  That was yesterday morning and I have not switched it on since.  I have wanted, no needed, to be in my own thoughts for a while, especially with the final preparations for leaving hospital going on around me.

The remnants of my coffee cup stare weakly back at me.  I swirl the dregs around before gulping them down.  As the cold liquid hits my tongue and slides down the back of my throat it leaves a trail of bitterness in its wake.  I glance at my watch.  I have been sat in the supermarket café for over an hour musing about my hospital stay, my family, Percy, Olive and Harry.  A squeeze on my shoulder interrupts me and I look up to see Dad's smiling, and a little stressed, face. 

"Sorry, the shopping took much longer than I expected, are you ready to go?"  He huffs at himself in annoyance.

I shrug it off.  "It's not a problem Dad, I have been happily watching the world go by.  Yes let's go home." 

During the car journey, I sit in silent contemplation of yesterday's phone call.  Harry's intentions for calling me were meant sincerely but I keep coming back to the same niggling question.  Why was he so angry by it all?  Is he in denial about his feelings for her or are my assumptions unwarranted?  Is my reasoning of his friendship versus relationship with her fallacy or fact? 

Up to this point everything has been so perfect between us but maybe after seeing her he is now questioning his feelings for me?  After everything he has done for me was I too harsh on him?  Perhaps keeping our relationship a secret has been harder for him than he realised.  Is it frustration over our extended separation that is magnifying the situation because I know it is especially prevalent in my mind?     

The night he invited me to stay for pasta supper he told me that no one is able to control love.  My response about not allowing myself to fall in love because it always ends in heartache had shocked him.  I could not fool him though; he is much smarter than that.  The way he looked at me that night, when he tried to kiss me and I turned away, he saw a glimmer of the romantic within me.  He made it his mission to slowly extract my hidden feelings and bring them to the surface and he had succeeded in his quest.  I knew I had been distracted by something when the tree fell and hit the car and it finally came back to me a few days ago. The night of the accident was when the realisation hit me that I had fallen in love with him.   

Being at Summer Haze together is natural and relaxed but as I suspected all along, being apart with him back in his real world, the air feels unsteady and stressed.  My despondent reflections take me further back to before we were even together; the night Harry picked a drunken me up from Brandon's party.  Despite my warning inner voice screaming 'hiatus romance' at me, I decided to take the plunge with him anyway.  Was this the crux of the issue?  Am I now paying for disregarding my conscience and getting my comeuppance? 

I tease his silver cross and chain repeatedly through my fingers.  During our conversation about Kendall, I told him I wasn't questioning his feelings for me.  However, perhaps my insecurity is forcing me to question the depth of my feelings for him as protection for the fact that I may have to face the possibility that he is about to crush my world by walking away from us.    

Dad pulls into the driveway and the house looms large, framed by the clear blue sky of the July summer's day.  I struggle out of the car and onto my crutches; it feels as though I have been away for ages.  Hobbling towards the front door, I see Mum's over-the-moon beam greet me.  She makes a big fuss but I do not mind because over the last few days I have come to appreciate the importance of my family.  My parents are my world and I could not have gotten through the last few weeks without them. 

Mum helps me inside whilst Dad follows right behind with the shopping then grabs my bag from the car.  I step through the front door and immediately all my apprehension of returning home dissipates.  Captured within the very essence of the safe walls of home are familiarity, childhood, family and treasured memories.

Despite my only exertions this morning being sitting around and drinking coffee, I feel drained.  I am beginning to wonder when this ridiculous lack of energy will subside.  Of course, the weight of my overindulging thoughts are not helping this cause.  I should not be putting my healing under this much stress and strain and if I am not careful I will hinder my recovery.

Unable to stomach any lunch, I make up an excuse that I have an overwhelming need to nap.  I lie down on the sofa in the den room for a little while but am not awarded the forty winks I crave thanks to my bewildered mentality. 

One thing I am absolutely sure of is that I must call Harry.  I am being unfair keeping my phone off; in fact I am being uncharacteristically selfish.  He is probably worried sick.  My device illuminates with the goofy selfie we took at the lighthouse.  The image of us together brings a smile to grace upon my lips but as the network connects, immediately I notice there are no missed calls or texts.  A sinking feeling pulls inside my stomach and a chill of disappointment cascades through my whole body.  Are his non-attempts at contacting me my answer right here?  I don't want to know so switch the phone off again. 

Lethargically, I hobble out the room in search of Mum.  The sounds of BBC Radio 2 and her dulcet singing tones to 'Blondie, Heart of Glass' lead me into the kitchen.  I settle on one of the kitchen island stools and still singing and swaying her hips, she lifts the kettle and points to it to gesture if I would like tea.  Laughing, I nod in agreement and amusingly watch her as she carries on to the end of the song seeming to have not a care in the world.  I have not seen her this happy in a long time and it warms my insides. 

Over our steaming mugs she talks ten to the dozen, gushing that both she and Dad are looking forward to being at home with me for the week.  She says it was meant to be a surprise but we are having a little welcome home get together around 6pm, once my brother and sister get back tonight.  I hug her tightly at her thoughtfulness barely able to keep my emotions in check.  I manage it because I am not in the right frame of mind for questions and explanations.  Then she casually drops into the conversation that I must be counting the minutes until Harry returns on Wednesday!    

My parents are unaware of the situation with him.  They don't read the red top tabloids that report gossip stories.  They peruse more middle class broadsheets like The Times or The Guardian that reviewed 'Made In The AM' as 'jolly good and worth a listen - 4 out of 5 stars.'  I just thank my lucky stars that Dad was quite clearly in a rush at the supermarket today and did not have time to stand at the newsstands and take his usual sneaky peek at The Sun or The Mirror.   

I glimpse out through the big conservatory windows towards the garden.  The day is invitingly warm and Mum suggests that perhaps I should sit outside until everyone arrives.  As I drag my stare back to her, my eyes settle on a small space next to the fridge and under the vintage blackboard that has scribbled across its surface in white chalk, 'Welcome Home Lily,' with hearts and flowers surrounding my name.  The only indication that there was previously anything in the space is a small shadow mark on the floor.  I stare, unblinking at the emptiness.  Mum immediately picks up on my private thoughts. 

"We thought it best to move it all sweetheart, I hope that was right?  We haven't thrown anything away, it's all in the summerhouse when you are ready."  Her voice wobbles uncertainly.

"The house Mum, it feels-, so still and quiet without him around."  Goosebumps peak icily over my arms.

"We all miss him dearly Lily.  I am so sorry."

At that precise moment not only the image of Percy enters my mind but Harry as well.  The memory of them both sat on the lawn at Summer Haze chokes a sob from my heart.  "He's really gone hasn't he?"  I splutter anxiously as I openly shiver and pull the sleeves of my jumper over my hands before hugging myself to try and soothe my heartbreak.

Mum is immediately next to me, cradling my head against her shoulder and peppering soothing 'mum' kisses against my forehead.  "Yes sweetie, he has."  I cling to her as more tears flow and in her loving arms it is like I am eight again when my rabbit Dandelion died.  "Where is he, I mean, you know?"

"We need to go and collect his ashes but we wanted to give you the option to do it so we left it until you came home."

"Thanks Mum, I would like to bring him home this week please."

"Yes of course, I will call the vet and arrange a time."  Hurriedly, she wipes her own tears from her cheeks then pulls away to look from her glazed eyes into my bloodshot ones.  "Now, if you are going to enjoy some afternoon sunshine you'd better get out there whilst it's still hot enough to enjoy."  She wipes my tears away with the back of her hand and hands me my crutches.       

I take her advice and move outside to where the end of the patio that runs along the back of the house opens out to what Dad refers to as 'the living room outside.'  A large pergola covered in jasmine houses a patio area filled with a mosaic topped table and comfy chairs, a swing seat, outdoors fire and barbeque. 

I sit amongst the sweet smelling white flowers and instantly relax at being back amongst my beloved nature.  My books and pencils are here and I flick through the pages I have already finished.  This activity has greatly helped my finger co-ordination and I have Harry to thank for that. 

My earlier disjointed thoughts have calmed somewhat and I think about him and how important he has become in my life in such a short space of time.  His presence really is in my every thought, my every feeling, and my entire being.  Everything comes back to him.

I colour away as the lazy afternoon sun slowly shifts its position around the garden and the area where I am sitting becomes bathed in chilly shadows.  Mum brings more tea and joins me in my creative pursuits.  She casually drops into our conversation that she needs assistance with treating the black fly on the marguerites.  She knows as well as I do what needs to be done and as I glimpse across at her innocently concentrating on her pattern, a distinctive smirk graces her lips.  It seems her mission to get me positive about gardening again is in full swing!

She disappears inside with the empty mugs and I decide to rest for a while. Throwing my head back, I bask in the cooler afternoon rays and drift off for a little while. When I stir and look at my watch I notice it is nearly 5.30pm. I hear voices coming from inside.  Everyone must be here and I should really stretch my legs as I have been sat down all afternoon.  I rise up out of the wooden seat, grabbing my crutches for support.  As I turn towards the house, the bright golden glow of the afternoon sun streaks through a gap in the branches of the massive fir tree.  For a split second it blinds me, obscuring my view.  My hand covers my eyes but nothing comes into focus immediately as the light spots continually dance in front of me. 

My hearing ears take over command of deciphering what my eyes cannot see.  Clickety-clicks scuff along the patio slabs.  There is no mistaking the sound.  Boots.  As my eyes battle to regain their focus, the blurred image striding towards me with purposes is not of any old pair of boots but familiar beige suede boots, slightly mottled by their age.  As I finally readjust fully, I see a weary determined face rushing towards me.  Harry.   

My heart blasts to a halt in my chest.  I drop the crutches and as they hit the deck with a clatter, I stumble backwards against the table, gripping the edges for support. 

Almost immediately he is stood in front of me.  He envelops me within his supple arms, the contours of their strength tautly gentle as they wrap around mine.  One large hand lays horizontally flat across the expanse of the curve in my lower back, the other rests vertically along my spine.  His long delicate fingers press into the material of my top.  As he holds me suspended against him, his touch affords just enough reassuring pressure with concerned tenderness to avoid causing me any pain. 

As he gathers me to him, I willingly surrender into the warmth of his chest and the comforting shelter of his broad shoulders as he wraps around my vulnerability like a protective cloak.  My face lands somewhere between his neck and shoulder.  No words pass between us but as he pulls me against him I utterly let go and fall into him. If he wasn't so strong and clasping me so tightly, the momentum would push us both on to the floor.

"You came back to me."  I mumble into the soft material of his t-shirt, my breaths erratic through my nose as I try to control my shocked emotions.

"Shh, I just need to 'be' with you for a moment."  Is all he says as he holds me tightly.

I stand in his embrace indefinitely, losing myself in him.  He smells of airplanes, stale cologne, sweat and coffee but most of all he smells of love.

He glances down at me to study my face.  He hooks his index finger under my chin and lifts it to capture my gaze.  I fond up at him, resting my cheek on his shoulder.  His nose swipes once across the tip of mine before he pulls away.  He ducks down and rests his lips softly against mine before teasing a caress over them.  His hand slides up the centre of my back and neck, running his fingers into my hair until he is cradling my head in the palm of his hand. His lashes slowly flutter to close as he breathes out a sigh of relief and then his soft lips hover but don't touch mine.  I can almost taste the relief on his breath.  He brings our lips to be as one but does not kiss me.  

He pulls away again and grazes his fingertips over the line of my cheekbone and across the curve of my lips.  As mesmerising as ever, the depth of his greens seize upon his cross and chain and he grasps it in his fingers.  His palm cups my cheek, sandwiching the silver pendant between our skin.  My eyes close at his touch as my cheek seeks solace in his palm.  My now happy heart is raging with full force in my chest.  His nose presses against mine and butterflies take flight in my stomach at our closeness.  He looks tired and worried but he is still my handsome Harry, just a little more tanned from the Californian sunshine.

Upon my lips, he breaks his silence.  "You said 'it doesn't matter'."  He sucks in a deep breath before caressing his lips across mine. "But if I am sure of one thing is that it matters."

"When I am with you, it matters.  When I talk to you, it matters.  When I hold you, it matters.  When I breathe you in, it matters.  When I make love to you, it matters.  When I am away from you, it matters.  You matter.  There was never a thought, a question, a doubt or a conversation I had to have with myself about coming back immediately to stand here with you, to hold you in my arms, feel the strands of your hair through my fingers, hold your face in my hands and look you right in the eyes and say upon your lips Lily, you matter to me above everyone and everything else in my world."

He searches my eyes as his quivering lips just hover, suspended over mine.  His grip around my body tightens.  I answer his words by closing the miniscule gap between us.  As soon I press my lips tenderly upon his, he reciprocates and his tongue sweeps across my bottom lip. We lose ourselves in passionately frenzied kisses as we rediscover each other.

He rests his forehead against mine.  "Of course I came back to you, Lily I- ."  But he hesitates for a split second before continuing.  "You mean everything to me.  I never want to miss you again." 

As I relish in the safety and soothing of his embrace, each part of my broken world mends itself in an instant. 

-*-

Immediately upon our telephone call finishing Harry contacted his PA and asked her to book him on the first available flight home.  He secured a seat on a flight on Sunday afternoon.

Next, he telephoned Barney Hunter.  Barney is a freelance photographer and journalist and as press goes he is one of the good guys.  The two men met via their mutual friend Cal Aurand and struck up a bit of a bond and have a certain amount of trust.  Barney hopes when the time is right that Harry, along with Cal, will approach him about helping to write Harry's autobiography.  Harry only had to give Barney the nod and half of LA press was on their way to LAX.   

Harry pulled up in his car at the airport to a barrage of flash bulbs.  He was immediately surrounded and hounded all the way from his car and into the terminal building.  As he entered the lift to go up to departures to catch his flight to London, he stood facing the back wall as the cameras continued to excessively flash.  Harry had never commented on his private life in public before but as reporters could be heard continually and aggressively shouting Kendall's name, he motioned to the airport security to secure the doors open, turned and stood on the threshold of lift.   

Initially he didn't speak.  He simply waited for silence to ensue as the reporters and some gathered fans waited on tenterhooks for what he was going to say.  With shushes, the crowd finally fell silent and in an unprecedented move he addressed the sea of people.

"I state now for the record I am not in a relationship with Kendall Jenner."

With a swift motion of his hand, the lift doors closed before any questions could be asked. 

The media went berserk with speculation, theories and controversies as to why he had made such an unprecedented statement.  Some said it very much meant he was in a relationship with her and was just trying to throw everyone off the scent. 

Savvy fans and press speculated he was in a relationship, not with Kendall but with someone else and the declaration had been aimed at that individual. Of course they were right. The statement on the public record was not made to benefit the press; he had made it because of me, for me and to me.

Before the wheels of flight BA0282 left the LAX runway that Sunday, 3rd July 2016 bound for London Heathrow, Harry tweeted three words:-