Friday arrived and our house was finally finished. And it was time to say good-bye to Zayn.

"Thanks for everything," I said. "The house is amazing. You are really talented – not just in construction, but in design and singing."

Then I gave him a gift bag and said, "It's just a small token of our appreciation. For everything you've done for us."

He looked a little embarrassed and said, "You didn't have to do anything."

"I know, but I wanted to."

He opened the bag and pulled out a specialized pair of headphones called Hearfones.

"They help you to hear your actual voice when you're singing. It's projected back to you as others hear it. Then you can adjust your tone and breath accordingly," I explained.

"Wow! These are amazing. I've never heard of such a thing. But I don't know if I'm ready to hear myself singing, let alone sing for other people." He smiled shyly at me and then said, "But thank you. That was really thoughtful."

"You're welcome," I said and then I winked. "Who knows? Maybe Harry can hook you up."

Zayn laughed and looked at the floor. "Thanks," he said quietly. "I'll stick with this for now. But let me know if you need anything else, okay?"

"Of course, and please let me know, too, if you need anything, anything at all," I insisted.

"Sure thing."

With one last friendly hug, Zayn got into his truck and drove away.

Our house was finally finished. Well, except for the pool that Harry wanted to put in. We decided we would do that next summer instead of trying to have it done while all the other renovations were happening.

I sat down in the living room. I looked around and enjoyed the view from every angle. This house was my dream house. I had four wonderful children and an amazing husband. My family was nearby and they rallied around me whenever I needed anything. My life was just about perfect. Except for one thing:

I was starting to resent my husband's career.

A few days later, I was back at the airport. I was actually starting to recognize the faces of some of the staff and crew since I was there so often. I had decided not to bring the kids this time because I wasn't sure how our reunion would be. I hadn't seen Harry since that steamy yet terrifying day in LA.

The investigation on the stalker had run a little cold. She hadn't contacted me in a few weeks - I was convinced it was a woman, based on the wording of the messages and threats - and the police found no evidence to suspect Victoria or my ex-husband Eric or anyone else. The case was in limbo, but I hoped that it would eventually get resolved. Or that I would never hear from the stalker again. The best situation would be both.

I stood, once again, by the security gate, waiting to catch a glimpse of Harry. I rocked back and forth on my heels and chewed my nails. I wasn't sure where we should start – should we try to hash out all the disagreements we'd had over the phone? Should I ask him about the details of the tour that he didn't consult me about? Or should I just tell him how much I missed him?

Harry answered my questions for me. When he saw me, he practically knocked over the other passengers to get to me. He picked me up like he always does, but he squeezed me so tight, I could hardly breathe. He buried his face in my neck and his voice cracked as he whispered, "God, I missed you! I missed you so much!" When he set me down, he pushed back a little and took my face in his hands and kissed me heavily.

"I missed you, too," I said, letting a relieved small cross my face. I decided to just let go of all our stupid arguments on the phone. "Harry, let's just forget all the drama of the past month and let's enjoy our family and our time together. Okay?"

"Absolutely. But I still want to talk to the officer who's investigating your stalker."

I swallowed hard at the mention of that horrible person, and then I nodded. "Of course. You have to talk to him."

The girls were so elated to see Harry again that they almost tackled him when he walked in the front door.

"Whoa," he laughed. "Careful, girls! Don't knock me over."

He walked to the living room to sit down and practically dragged the girls along with him since they wouldn't let go of him. As soon as he was seated, they started chattering non-stop, quizzing him about all his adventures.

"We saw you on TV, Daddy!"

"I heard your song on the radio three times!"

"My teacher wants an autograph!"

"Jeannette says I'm her best friend because my daddy is famous!"

"Who's Jeannette?" Harry asked.

"My friend down the street, Daddy."

"Well, I hope she's not just your friend because of me," he laughed.

"No, we're actually best friends," she clarified. "But she thinks it's SO cool that you're a singer!"

Courtney and Charlie had stayed with the kids while I had gone to the airport. They stood by and listened to the banter for a long time before Charlie finally stuck his hand in Harry's face and said, "Welcome home!"

Harry laughed and gently moved the girls aside so he could stand up and properly greet his brother. Then he looked at Courtney. "It looks like the baby is doing well," he said, gesturing to her protruding belly.

"Yeah," she laughed. "The baby is hungry all the time. I think most of this weight is cheeseburgers and Frosties from Wendy's."

This whole time, Danny had been sitting in my lap, eying Harry a little warily. His little two-year-old brain hadn't seen Harry in real life for quite some time, and he was still wondering what to think of him.

Harry looked at Danny and asked, "Do you want to come by Daddy?"

Danny just nuzzled into my shoulder and refused to move off my lap. I got up and sat down next to Harry on the sofa. Harry continued to talk to him, and eventually Danny leaned over, climbing into Harry's lap. Harry squeezed his son tightly and quietly said, "I missed you so much, buddy."

Danny patted Harry's arm and said, "miss Daddy."

Harry was so moved by Danny's actions that he laughed while I saw tears pooling in his eyes.

"I'll get dinner started," I said, leaving them to continue their bonding.

That night, Harry and I walked through the house while I showed him all the improvements. Some were obvious, some were a little more subtle, like the crown molding or the speckles in the countertop that matched the floor in the kitchen.

"What did they do in the basement?" He asked. "We spent a hell of a lot of money to dig a new one."

"Well, babe, your birthday surprise is down there. Can you wait a few weeks before I show you?"

"I suppose," he said, rolling his eyes playfully. "But I can't wait for you, my love." With that, he lifted me up onto the kitchen counter so that I was sitting almost eye to eye with him. He gently pushed his way in between my knees.

I draped my arms over his shoulders and innocently said, "What about me?"

He yanked my shirt open without warning and leaned in to kiss my neck. His mouth moved slowly over my skin, sending shivers up my spine and quivers down into the pit of my stomach. He slowly kissed over my shoulder and then moved back across my collarbones, eventually working his way up to my mouth. He pressed his lips hard against mine and held still for a moment, and then he began to move them gently, tenderly. I opened my mouth slightly to let him know I wanted more and he gingerly slipped his tongue past my lips. That simple action set me on fire.

"I want you so much," I whimpered.

He took my hand and helped me to jump down from the counter. We turned to walk into our room and Harry's eyes landed on the pie safe. "Wow, this is a cool piece of furniture. Where did that come from?"

"Oh," I said quickly. "Zayn gave it to me."

Harry's silence stopped me in my tracks. I looked at him and his jaw was hanging open.

"I...I...," I stuttered. "I mean that Zayn gave it to us," I corrected myself, too little, too late.

"Zayn! Gave it to you? For what reason, may I ask?!" His face was turning red, and his jaw was twitching. He was blowing this way out of proportion.

"He was just being nice, Harry," I said, trying to bring his blood pressure back down. "It's not a big deal."

"It is a big deal if a man is giving my wife gifts while I'm not here!" He yelled. "So, did you give him a gift, too?"

I almost choked, cleared my throat and then said, "Uh, yes, I gave him something. From both of us. Harry, we worked together for a long time. We got to be friends and that's it, okay?"

"No, Lise, he worked for us! We paid him to do a job and he did it!"

"Well, maybe you forgot that I did a lot of work on this house, too. I designed everything and picked out all the colors and patterns and furniture, and yes, Zayn and I had to work together on some of that! That's how it works!" I turned to walk into the bedroom. "What has gotten into you, Harry?" I said over my shoulder. "This new jealousy thing is not you at all!"

"Lise! You're my wife! No other man should ever be giving gifts to you!" He grabbed my arm and pulled me back to him.

I yanked my arm away from him and stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door. So much for wanting my husband. Now I wanted him to go back to California.

After I was done furiously scrubbing my face and brushing my teeth until my gums bled, I stomped over to the bed and threw the blankets over myself. I had no idea where Harry was and I didn't care. I did some deep breathing to try to relax myself. I eventually calmed down enough to start drifting off.

Much later in the evening, Harry climbed in quietly. I could smell him and feel his warmth. Part of me wanted to roll over and have him fold me into his body. But I was still so angry. How could he not trust me?

What the hell had happened to my idyllic marriage and family?