Monday

We are honest about how naïvely we had both pictured our reunion at Summer Haze. We agree that we were under the misguided impression that we would pick up in all things where we left off before my accident. A rewind of those unrealistic expectations brings an instantaneous alleviation of the stress and a more relaxed air of doing nothing but getting back to 'us' ensues.

Subsequent to waking in hospital, I whiled away many hours despondent and introspective but mostly sad in reflection about the impact upon those that I love. My mind was still in its infancy of recovery then and those perceptions were complicatedly muddled. Now, in the peace and quiet of the garden where I thrive the most, it allows me more measured contemplation.

Harry's words of wisdom about not neglecting my inside bruises is the catalyst that propels me to consider how I really feel. I approach the tunnel willingly but when I stumble he takes my hand and guides me into the darkness to talk at length about those bruises. He listens attentively and without interruption as I dig deep below the surface to extract the truth. He offers his humble opinion and when some of it is hard to hear, his arms to safely melt into.

Those safe arms, his precious kisses and kind reassuring words wrap around me like soothing bandages. I emerge out the other side galvanised and with most lines definitely drawn; only a few dotted ones remain that need the gaps filled.

Although my relationship with those closest to me is much improved, my sister still remains an unreadable enigma at times and her reasoning is something I hope to tackle head-on.

Harry says he adores my caring nature but he lovingly suggests that I need to be a little more selfish. I worry too much about my parents, my sister, Olive, sorting the florist's employment issues out!

"It's time to put yourself first for a change," echoes around my head. "And also, one thing at a time," he reminds me as he smiles down at me resting my head upon a cushion on his lap. His grip upon my hand is firm and his other twirls my hair around his fingers. "Rome wasn't built in a day, Beautiful."

Tuesday

Arrives with Harry's homemade smoothies for breakfast courtesy of a NutriBullet Rx. I could not resist buying it for him and it was worth every penny to see his face light up at the thought of no more lumps in his amazing array of concoctions!

He joins me for my stretches then suggests a vitamin D enriched yoga relaxation session in the garden with, much to my relief, no omming! Afterwards, I step out of the shower to him shaving at the sink. He beckons me to sit up on the vanity unit and offers to apply arnica cream onto my bruises. His touches are purely gentle with no sign of being sexually charged but when I glance down at his fingertips, the sensation of their caress brushing my skin awakens butterflies in my tummy.

Later, Harry FaceTimes with Emily at her home and they chat for over twenty minutes. Although he is in another room, I hear him sharing jokes and laughter with her and it glows a warm beam on my face.

Despite his jovial demeanour during the call, when he rejoins me afterwards I see the burden of upset across his hunched shoulders and fallen features. He comes towards me with his cross between his lips and his eyes down like he is in prayer and he practically falls into my embrace. My hug is the only solace I can offer him as he lets a few tears fall; the ones he rarely allows anyone to see. He explains almost solemnly that she looks much frailer since the last time he saw her and her courage is remarkably inspiring.

It is painful to witness him upset but the fact that yet again he is comfortable being so open emotionally with me, hammers home a realisation. As we increasingly share everything in and about our lives, an affinity is swelling between us. The force of this unique bond scares me a little bit but that is largely outweighed by the exhilaration that raises the hairs on my arms and the flutter that has returned inside my chest.

Our evening is spent wrapped up together watching the remaining episodes of 'Peaky Blinders'. As the end credits roll this time, Harry asks if "we" should go to bed. My grinning "yes" response has him carrying me up the stairs to snuggle under the covers and into sleep in no time.

For the second night running he wears boxers to bed. Many would think nothing of this but for someone who usually always sleeps naked, it is just another no pressure thoughtful gesture from my wonderful man.

Wednesday

Whilst preparing a colourful fruit salad with Greek yoghurt for breakfast, a pile of unopened letters by the fruit bowl grabs my attention. Harry confirms that they are for Mum and one in particular looks important. He places them on the table in the hallway so I do not forget to take them with me the following day.

It highlights that he is leaving for Cheshire tomorrow. Whilst he will only be gone for four days, I will miss him. Over the last five days, he has stated fondly on numerous occasions that he is so looking forward to spending some quality time with his family. I know that my decision to not mention my birthday dinner is the right one.

Much to my amazement, he confesses that he has still not spoken to Jeff since their crossed words the previous week. They have corresponded with emails but this is the longest time the two of them have ever gone without speaking. He is clearly despondent about it so I urge him to make the call.

He ends up having a long conversation that starts with profuse apologies that I can tell are reciprocated from the other end and quickly settles into a flowing 'business as usual' and best friends banter. Focused speaking Harry is fascinating to watch as he demonstratively gesticulates with his hands through his conversation. With the mobile miles between them seemingly more relaxed, the call ends with Harry telling Jeff that he is seeing me.

Harry's immediate happier self is satisfyingly evident. He confirms Jeff is flying to the UK at the beginning of next week and he is coming to stay at Summer Haze. His visit is to finalise the 'project' or as we are now allowed to call it, Harry's first solo album.

Harry says that Jeff is looking forward to meeting me but I sense a slight hesitation in his voice. I decide not to push the point with questions about his real reaction to finding out about me. Harry is content so main aim accomplished, plus this is our together week; Jeff is next week. I am reminded of the words of the man himself, "one thing at a time."

We enjoy a tranquil afternoon in the sunny lower garden. Harry sits on the decking with his back against the wall of the house and his legs stretched out in front of him.  He practices his guitar a little and whilst listening to his funky sound of plucked strings, I potter around with secateurs in hand, pruning plants. Unbeknown to me Harry, with a little help from Mum, employed a gardener whilst I was in hospital. The result is a nice surprise and a much shorter 'to do' list than I was expecting.

He tells me he has received the whole library of photos, old and new, that he needs to whittle down for his album CD insert. I am honoured when he asks me for my candid opinion on the shots. We bask in the sunshine with mugs of afternoon tea as we peruse the images on his laptop. Naughty Harry comes out to play as he draws silly moustaches, spikey hairstyles and bubbles with rude sayings in Day-Glo colours over his faces on the screen.

At one point, he accidentally saves one instead of cancelling. The sheer look of horror that he has permanently marked the image is hilarious. His eyes pop out of his head and agitated by his curls, he pulls his long hair up into a bun; like this one action will somehow make it all better! I rest my head on his shoulder and giggle along at his silliness. My swift take-over of the mouse-pad results in the fluorescent evidence being erased.

After much discussion and reasoning, we finally end up with a credible set of images that fit the imagery and mood that Harry had been envisaging. The whole experience also gives me a glimpse into the workings of the mind and view from the eyes of Harry the artist. This one exercise alone is testament to how he approaches every aspect of his life; with dedication, methodical precision, fuss and fanfare free latitude but most importantly, with love.

The cooler late afternoon sun has begun to play hide and seek behind accumulating cotton-wool clouds.  The tussle between light then shade creeps ever-changing shadows across the lawn.  Harry disappears inside, I assume to start preparing some dinner.  I return to my 'to do' list but it is not long before he reappears and smiles knowingly at me.  He reaches his hand for mine and when I take his and stand, he swings me into his arms and strides inside towards the stairs with gusto.

His bedroom is dimly lit and scented like a meadow.  I notice the bath is full and I pull my bottom lip into my mouth and coyly smile.

"This looks amazing, thank you." I kiss his nose and squeeze my grip around his neck before he gently places me down to stand on the floor.

"I'll leave you to enjoy but I will be back." He winks cheekily as he heads back downstairs.

I sink into the warmth of the inviting bath that swirls with flower petals and watch with heavy lids as the little tea-lights dotted around the edge dance before my eyes.  As I unwind beneath the floral perfume, whatever else he has added to this water whisks me far away to my fantasy garden.

His dulcet tone brings me out of my daydreaming.  "I hope you are enjoying your soak?  Dinner is ready when you are."

"I am, very much, thanks to you." I grin up at him.  "Are you not going to join me?"

He hesitates for a second staring surprised at me, before a lopsided smirk graces his lips. 

"Are you sure?"  His sexy grin and raised eyebrows question. 

I flirty smile reassuringly at him. "Yes, I absolutely am, Handsome."