The doctors let me go home at noon.

I was so glad to be back at home. Even though it had only been one day, I had missed our multiple kinds of curtains and our cream colored walls. The hospital was too matchy matchy. It ruined my mood.

Harry insisted that I lay on the couch the rest of the day while he did the tidying up. I didn't refuse. I was tired even though I had gotten 12 hours of actual sleep the night before. It was like all of the energy had been drained out of my body.

He jokingly danced and cleaned. He tripped over the wire of the vacuum cleaner and fell on the floor.

I had to get up and help him with his "injuries".

He had carpet burns on his knees and the palms of his hands and a scratch on his shin.

I put a band-aid over his scratch and kissed the carpet burn marks. Sometimes I could've sworn that I was dating a five year old.

He decided to take a break from cleaning and join me on the couch for a few minutes.

He laid down with me.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"It was my pleasure."

He wrapped his long arms around my torso and rubbed my stomach with his hands.

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Does mum have to have a funeral?"

I had overheard her talking to one of her friends once about my nan's funeral. She had said that it was stupid and that if people wanted to pay their respects that they should've down it while she was alive.

I wanted my mother to get what she wanted, even if it was a bit too late.

"You don't have to. It's up to the family what the plans are and you're the only family."

His words made my stomach tighten. I was her only family. She didn't have any brothers or sisters and my nan was an only child as well. My dad had a big family, but that didn't help us.

It was up to me to decide everything.

"Don't worry about it, though. I'll help you," he said, kissing my hair.

I had to worry about it. I worried about everything and I couldn't help it.

"Can I drive?" I asked him.

"You just got back from the hospital today and you want to go out and drive?"

I nodded.

"I don't know if that's the best idea, but you know what you feel like better than I do."

I nodded and got up from the couch.

I put a black sweater on and headed outside. The cold air broke through, but I ignored it. I needed to sit in the driver's seat. I needed my stress to melt away just like the ice on the side of the passing roads.

I turned the radio and some random orchestra started playing. Harry was so weird sometimes.

I thought about the first time Harry and I kissed when the violin started to play.

Harry was convinced that even though we were in the backseat of his car, about to eat each other faces, instrumental music would make the moment more romantic. The only thing on the radio that didn't have words was the orchestra. So, we kissed to the sound of angry instruments for half an hour.

The same shops that I had passed a few days before came into sight, so I turned down a different street. Seeing new things made me feel less stressed out, which didn't make sense because change scared me.

I drove until there weren't that many shops anymore. There was an occasional petrol station or diner, but not many shops or hotels.

I was so caught up in thoughts about my mother's funeral plans that I didn't realize that I was lost.

My chest tightened as I looked out the windows to see an almost deserted town surrounding me. How could I have been so oblivious?

I grabbed my phone and called Harry, trying not to cry. There was a serial killer out on the loose and I was parked in a densely wooded area at sunset.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Harry, I don't know where I am."

Harry laughed at the uneasiness in my tone.

"Type our address into your phone and it should get you back. There's not use in me getting lost with you."

Harry was definitely the sensible one in our relationship. I usually ended up getting worried about stuff and then I couldn't think straight. He made most of our plans and answered the phone, just because I couldn't stand feeling pressured into dinner dates and guests coming.

"Thanks, babe," I said, hanging up.

Surely enough, Harry's suggestion worked. It took me two hours to get back home, but it worked nonetheless.

"You made it back," Harry said when I opened the door.

I laughed. I didn't understand how I always got myself into sticky situations like I did.

"I'm sorry."

He wrapped his arms around me. He was so warm and cozy in his sweatshirt, making my cold body heat up.

"Nothing to be sorry about," he said, releasing me from his embrace.

"I smell chicken," I said, sniffing.

"That you do," he said, tapping my nose with his finger.

I followed him into the dining room where two plates of chicken and salad lay. There was a maple sugar candle from Primark in the middle of the table and plastic cutlery placed neatly on disposable napkins beside the plates. This was his idea of a romantic dinner and somehow it had become mine too.

It wasn't about the things we had and how fancy we were, it was about the love between the two of us. Harry had taught me that.

"This is wonderful, Harry!" I said, kissing him on the cheek.

Harry had left the TV on in the living room and I heard the routine words sound from it while Harry and I ate dinner.

"The Pier Killer is still out there and has murdered yet another victim."