Harry wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep for when he woke up suddenly, but judging by how dark it was, he knew it was some time in the middle of the night.

The warm body next to him had him wide awake in seconds as the image of a shaking Grace lying on the floor came flooding back, an image that he knew he'd never be able to rid himself of.

She was still asleep next to him, the steady rhythm of her breathing the only sound in the room.

He was under the blanket with her, something he didn't remember doing but he must have moved under it some time during the night in his sleep.

Harry wondered if he should leave her be to keep sleeping or whether he should stay until she woke up.

Or maybe he should her wake her up?

What would he say to her though?

He slowly sat himself up and rubbed at his eyes however he didn't have any more time to think when the door to Grace's room opened slowly and someone walked in, closing it behind them.

It didn't take a genius to figure who it was by their outline.

James.

And Harry was in bed with his wife.

He was well and truly fucked.

Harry held his breath, he could make out the faint outline of James walking over to the bathroom and turning the light on, allowing enough light to pour into the room to bathe it in a soft light.

Harry watched as James opened a cabinet and appeared to be searching for something, reaching out and grasping it in his hands when he did.

He closed the cabinet and looked at the small bottle in his hand, shaking his head and letting out a noise before walking back into the bedroom.

Harry wasn't sure if he was going to throw up or piss his pants as James reached for a chair, heading around to the side where Harry was currently frozen in place.

"Don't move Harry," he said in a low voice, "you'll only wake her."

Harry watched as James sat the chair down next to him and then sat himself on it, sighing heavily as he looked at Grace.

Harry didn't know what to say, what to do, fear and confusion flowing through his body as he waited.

"Rosie told me what happened tonight," he began, leaning forward and looking at his hands as though there was something on them, "thank you for being here for her, for helping her."

Harry still didn't know what he should say to the man that was sitting on a chair next to him as he sat next to his wife in her bed.

He must be dreaming.

Surely.

"You and Grace seem to have gotten pretty close?" he asked.

Harry swallowed nervously.

"She's...she's great," Harry replied.

Harry mentally facepalmed himself at his response.

"She is," James replied with a wry smile, "she always has been."

"I can explain-" Harry began, trying to offer the reason to where he currently sat but James held up his hand to stop him.

"I know," he said, "I know everything Harry," he paused, "well maybe you can clarify some things I've heard?"

Harry nodded, swallowing nervously again.

"Are you sleeping with my wife?" he asked.

"No!" Harry immediately replied, horrified at the question.

"Have you kissed my wife?" James went on.

Harry took in a deep breath before answering.

"I...yes..." he said quietly, waiting for whatever James was now going to deliver in retaliation.

However, James leaned back on his chair before replying.

"I believe Grace introduced you to some of our friends at the party?" he suddenly asked, "one in particular was Mason yes?"

Harry thought quickly and remembered who James was referring to.

"Uh...she did," he replied, somewhat confused at the direction the conversation was taking, "I spent most of the night with them, Mason was pretty funny...seems like a nice guy..."

James smiled at the response.

"He's my partner," he replied after a moment's silence.

Harry's eyes widened.

"Mason is my boyfriend," James shrugged, "has been for quite a number of years..." he trailed off.

Harry looked over at a sleeping Grace before back to James, shaking his head in confusion at James' confession.

"What?" he finally said.

"Do you have family back home Harry?" James asked.

"Yeah, my mum and sister, my dad and step-dad," Harry replied.

"Are they good to you? Support you?" he asked.

"Absolutely," Harry replied, "we've always had each other's backs, I wouldn't have experienced half the things I've done without my mum's support to be honest..."

James smiled sadly.

"You're very fortunate then," he said, "I think you can gather that my mother does not operate like that..."

Harry said nothing, merely offered a sympathetic smile in return.

"Sometimes," James paused, "sometimes parents see other things as a priority when it comes to family, particularly families that have a name and reputation attached to them..."

Harry waited for James to continue.

"Not that I'm saying your family doesn't have a reputation, that's not what I meant," he quickly added, "with my family...the name and reputation is all that matters," he paused, "sometimes I feel like a machine, merely bred for the sole purpose of the business and nothing more..."

James began to play with the bottle in his hand, flipping the cap open and then closing it.

"Has Grace told you anything about our family?" he asks.

"No, nothing," Harry replied, "nothing like you've just told me anyway."

James nodded thoughtfully.

"Our family is full of secrets Harry, terrible secrets," he continues, "some of us hold secrets over each other that will ruin us, Grace included," James nodded his head to his wife, "and she was just an innocent party to all of it, but she is, unfortunately, right in the middle of it," he says sadly.

"Does...does Grace know? About Mason?" Harry finds the nerve to finally ask.

"She does," James' nodded, "she has protected me all this time even though she didn't have to. She knew what my mother's attitude was to homosexuality, I'd be as good a dead to the family," he laughs hollowly, "when my brot-" he stops short, "anyway, if my mother found out, she'd be mortified that her son was gay and what it would do to the family name and reputation. She would utterly despise me and find a way to hurt Mason, she's nasty and vindictive Harry, mark my words."

Harry didn't seem at all surprised, but he still couldn't fathom how a mother could treat her son this way.

"I know it may not seem much to you Harry, a man coming out as gay to his family," James said, "my mother," he paused, "my mother is very influential...she knows people...you'd do anything to protect the people you love right Harry?"

Harry nodded as he felt his stomach drop at what James' was implying.

He also realised how much his own mother's love and support meant to him.

"Would you divorce?" Harry asked out of curiosity.

"Grace doesn't want the girls to grow up without their father, she had to, and she hated it," James replied, "she's put the girls, and myself, ahead of what she needs, what she should have..." he trails off, "there is more to her story, much more, but I don't think it's my place to tell you right now."

James shook the bottle in his hand before looking up at Harry.

"She's the most selfless person I know," he said, "I have even said to her that if she were to find someone else, I would encourage it and applaud her for it, but she always said her damn morals stopped her," he paused, "I just don't think she wanted to entertain the idea of it...until now," he looked up at Harry, "these are her antidepressants that she is meant to take and clearly, she hasn't been."

Harry widened his eyes in shock.

He had no idea.

"I never even knew, I didn't tell her to stop," he said quickly, worried that James was going to blame him for her stopping her medication.

James smiled at him.

"What date did you arrive here?" he asked.

Harry thought for a moment.

"November 30," he replied, "I only remember because it was the end of that month..."

James held up the bottle.

"These were filled a couple of days later," he said, "she hasn't taken them since you've arrived Harry."

No.

This explained so much right now.

"There was clearly something about you Harry that made her feel she didn't need these," James went on, "that's a good thing. A positive thing."

"So, what happened last night then?" Harry wondered out loud.

"My sister," James replied, "told me about the two of you in front of Grace."

"What did she say?" Harry asked, almost in a whisper.

"That the two of you were fucking each other," he replied, a gasp coming from Harry in response, "I know," James agreed.

"Look," he placed the bottle of the nightstand next to the bed, "I've bombarded you with a bit of unexpected information I realise," James said, "there's so much more you don't know though with time, I'm sure you will," he stood up from the chair, "I hope you won't look at Grace any differently when, and if, she chooses to share her story with you. And I hope you can continue to be there for her as you have been," he placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and patted it, "I think you might just be the very thing to save her."

James smiled at Harry before turning and walking out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him quietly.

Harry watched him go before reaching down and pinching himself on the arm.

Hard.

Definitely not dreaming.

He stared out at the picture on the wall of Grace and the girls and his heart warmed at the image of them laughing together.

Harry then turned his attention to the sleeping woman beside him.

Everything her husband said began playing around in his mind.

What the fuck was going on with this family?

More importantly, should he be packing his bags and getting on the first plane home and out of this mess?

He looked down at Grace again and felt his heart skip a beat.

He knew what his head was saying.

He knew what his heart was saying.

They waged an internal battle inside his body.

He sighed and leaned the back of his head against the bedhead and looked straight ahead again.

Damn his heart for winning the battle.