"What the fuck do you think you're playing at?" I raged. You flinched away from me, and even though that didn't escape my notice, I was beyond the rational point of being able to back down. I backed you up against the counter, shaking from the anger pulsing through my veins. "You can't pay thirty fucking thousand dollars for plane tickets!"

"I can, actually," you had so much attitude in your voice. Like just pointing out and proving that you were above me, better than me. Even your email...it was your work email. I wasn't good enough for your personal email? I wasn't trusted. I was still just an outsider. You didn't really want me here, you just asked me to move in because you were stuck in an awkward position. You didn't love me. You only said it because I did.

I know none of this is true, Maddie, but that was what raced through my head in that moment.

To make matters worse, I had hurt my mum. I had hurt her, and she was suffering in silence because she didn't want to make me feel bad, thousands of miles away. And I just took that out on you, too, "And then you send the fucking email to my mum, and how is she supposed to feel that you traded the ticket she worked really hard to buy me for something worth like, fuck I don't even know. Ten, twenty. No fifty times the cost." You interrupted and defended yourself, but I didn't even hear you. I mean, I heard your voice, but my brain wasn't registering the words you spoke. All I could think about was crawling around on my knees collecting coins from the parking lot. Someone like you. First class. Low class. You don't belong here. You're not good enough for her. You'll never be good enough. "And what about the fucking connecting flight, huh? Are you too good for the train? The precious Maddie Turner has to fly first class." You pushed past me and walked out of the kitchen without another word. I followed, not ready to let go of my anger. "Where the fuck are you going?"

Shit. The look on your face when you turned around...it drained all the anger right out of me. You looked so hurt and so confused and...so scared. The hole where my anger had been flooded with shame. I wanted to apologise, to take it all back, but I was frozen.

You whispered, your voice shaky and filled with emotion, "I'm going to call my therapist and figure out what I did wrong here. By the way, Harry, economy and business class were sold out. For all the flights, all of next week. I just wanted to be able to sit with you." Fuck. Oh Jesus. You were selfless and beautiful and amazing as always, and I was a massive prick.

You walked away. I stood there in the hallway for a moment, still paralysed by my own stupid behaviour. I opened my phone and called the airline, but they were completely unhelpful. Not only would they not switch the ticket back (I can't even recall now why I thought that was a good idea), they refused to help me at all because they didn't believe I was the other person on your itinerary; yet more evidence that I wasn't good enough for your posh fucking life. I hung up in frustration and went to the window in the living room to see if I could see you in the bedroom. What a mistake. You were sitting at the foot of the bed, your face buried in your hands, sobbing. My own tears returned. I had fucking blown it. I'd hurt you and scared you. Jesus. I scared you. I covered my own face as I turned away from the window. What the fuck was wrong with me? How could I yell at you like that? How could I tower over you like that? Fuck. I scrambled onto a stool at the breakfast bar and rested my face against the cool marble, a pool of tears collecting beneath me. I rested my hands on the back of my head, hiding from the world.

I don't know why I'm even sitting here, I thought. She's gonna dump me for sure. I may as well leave now, save her the trouble. But I couldn't. I couldn't get my body to move, other than the shaking of sobs and regret. What the fuck is wrong with me? She's everything. And I fucking blew it. I don't deserve her. Forget money, class, status. I'm not good enough for her because she deserves someone who won't treat her like this. Like shit. I was lost in this cycle of self-pity and self-doubt and self-abuse when you touched my back. Your hand trailed from the hair at the back of my neck down my spine, so softly, so tenderly, so lovingly. So unexpectedly. I wanted to let out another sob, but I swallowed it down, rubbed my sleeve against my tear-stained cheeks, and sat up to face you.

"I'm sorry for being insensitive about the money," you said. I raised my eyebrows in surprise. I was not expecting you to apologise to me. I was so far out of line. Yet here you were apologising to me. "I should have talked to you before upgrading your ticket. I know that you're uncomfortable about...the difference in our financial status. And I should have realised how it would make you feel. I didn't mean to hurt you."

I knew I needed to apologise too, but all I could manage was a whispered, "I was so angry and so humiliated."

"I'm sorry I made you feel that way. Honestly, they searched for two tickets together on that flight, on any flight. There were none. I asked for a single on that flight. Nothing. There was nothing. They checked business class. Nothing." I'm such an asshole. Gemma had it exactly right. I am a complete and total ass. If I had just asked you calmly. If I had just told you why I was upset. If I had just trusted that you really did want to be with me, and that you really did love me. Fuck, I'm such an idiot. "The only way we could be together for any flight was in first class."

"I know, I called the airlines right now." Your expression showed your irritation, and I tried to explain, "I was going to switch my ticket back, but it sold already."

"I'm going to work at being more sensitive about this issue in the future, okay, I promise." I nodded, but I wanted to say that it was my issue, not yours. That I was the one who needed to be more careful, not you. But I couldn't. I don't know why, but I couldn't. "Harry, what you said to me, the tone with which you said it, really hurt me." You started to cry and I felt like such a fucking prick. Here you were apologising over and over, and I just stayed mute. I wanted to pull you into my arms and hold you and kiss you and promise you that I would never hurt you again. But I didn't. I just watched you cry, every tear like a little piece of me dribbling away from you. "I'm not some spoiled diva."

I tried to explain myself, "I know. I know that, but it's intimidating. You have so much... this house, where I live rent-free, that car." We had a silly exchange about the cost of your clothes, inexpensive compared to the rest of your lifestyle.

You looked me right in the eye, and I found it so hard to maintain that eye contact, "I think the worst part is that it feels like you meant to hurt me. Like you knew those words and their implication would hurt me."

I did. I can't even deny it. I was hurt, and I wanted to hurt you. I was scared and lost and hurt, and I wanted to hurt you as you hurt me. It was terrible. It was a terrible thing to do. It reminded me so much of my father. And I imagined it was so much like your father, too. It was exactly who I didn't want to be.

And there was no point denying what was so very evident, "You're right. I was so angry, and I lashed out. I knew it would hurt you." I'm such a fucking asshole, I added in my mind.

"That really scares me, Harry. That you would cut me with your words. Intentionally. I don't like that at all, and it's not okay with me." I hated how right you were, but I loved how direct you were. There was no mincing of words, no games. It was refreshing. I thought we just might get through this. Then your face crumpled as you continued, "You said you would never hurt me." You covered your face, crying again.

I got up from the stool and rested my hands on the sides of your head, running my thumbs over your eyebrows. "Oh, my precious girl--"

You stepped out of my grasp. "Don't call me that," you snapped, and I began to doubt whether we truly could overcome this. You were still so hurt and angry.

"Have I ruined us forever?" (Here is another interesting difference in your recollection contrasted with mine. In your journal, you wrote that I asked whether I'd ruined that word forever. But my fear was that I'd lost you. I know I asked if I'd ruined us.)

And your reply did not alleviate those fears at all. "I don't know about forever. For today, certainly." I wanted to cry all over again.

"Fuck. I'm sorry, Maddie. I'm not... I have to get back to work. I really don't want to. I don't like leaving when this still feels...raw, but I'm not even supposed to be here right now."

"It's okay. I'm fine. I'm just going to go for a run." I run when I'm stressed out, you'd said. Now, instead of being the source of your relief, I was the source of your stress. I hated myself. I absolutely hated myself for what I'd done.

I sighed, running my hands through my hair anxiously. "Okay. I'll see you later." I turned and left, tears falling again. I wiped at them in frustration as I got back in the van. I drove down to Sal's and pulled into the back lot. Sal was just getting out of his car. "Hey," I muttered, walking into the back.

Just inside the door, Sal caught my arm gently. "What is it? What has happened?"

"I'm just having a terrible day," I sniffled, tears threatening again. "I'm sorry." I covered my eyes. Fuck.

"Hey, hey," he pulled me into a hug, and I let the tears fall freely. "It's okay, son. It's okay. You will get through this terrible day to face another tomorrow." I laughed a little because it sounded like he was saying tomorrow would be terrible too. "Do you want to tell me what's happening?"

I pulled back, and he braced me by my elbows, holding onto me sturdily. "I fucked up with Maddie. I fucked up with my mum, too. I fucked up my job here, and now I've fucked up with her, and I'm just a fuck-up." I shook my head, my lips pressed tight and tears slipping down my cheeks.

"First, you haven't...effed up your job here." Shit. I shouldn't have cursed. "You are an honest and loyal employee," he squeezed my shoulder then patted my cheek. "My daughter forgets there are cameras. But you, you are honest, always." I sucked in a breath. Shit. I'd forgotten all about that. "Now, your mother loves you and will forgive any slight, I promise you. What happened?"

"I forgot to call her on her birthday."

He waved his hand dismissively. "My boy, your mother knows how busy your life here is. I know you feel you've hurt her, and I'm sure it did, but this is not something that would ruin your relationship. Now what else?"

I explained how I'd gone to deliver the food, how the chick paid my tip in coins, how I felt so small. How you'd bought these expensive plane tickets. "And mum had scrimped to buy me this plane ticket, so I just got so angry. I felt about two inches tall."

He nodded. "I understand why your pride was hurt. It makes sense. You should know that your mother will not be affected by the cost of those tickets, though."

I frowned. "Why? What do you mean?"

"I bought your ticket, Harry."

I inhaled my surprise. He'd given me a raise and bought the ticket. I started to cry again. "I don't deserve this job. I don't deserve the raise you gave me. I'm so sorry I'm late all the time. I'm sorry I--"

He shushed me, patting my shoulders. "You are good at this job, other than your time management. Our customers love chatting with you, they love the food you make for them, they request you specifically for deliveries even when you aren't on the schedule. You do deserve this job. I will always dock you when you're late, and I want you to stop that, but you're my best employee, Harry." He hooked his arm around my neck. "Now come on, let's get back to work."

He gestured at a stack of boxes and told me to unpack the new shipments, that I was in no condition to be out front. "Would it be okay if I called my mum while I work? I'll put her on speaker, and work while we talk."

"Of course, my boy, go on."

I pulled out my phone and saw I had a text from Liam.

Liam: Louis and I have been working on a concept for the video for Midnight Memories. Can you and Maddie come by today? Or we can come to you?

Me: I really don't want to make a video for that song.

Liam: shit. Okay. Which one?

Me: I don't care. Just not one of the ones about Fern. It's bad enough I'm going to be in the same city.

I didn't hear back from him.

I cut open one of the boxes using my keys. There was the H you'd given me. I ran my thumb across it. How did we go from gestures like this meaning everything to me, to me shouting you down in your kitchen? Your kitchen. Jesus. I really needed to talk to my mum. I clicked on her contact and set it to speaker phone. I leaned down and began unpacking the boxes.

"Hi sweetheart!" She exclaimed.

I was smiling just from the sound of her voice. "Hi mum."

"Oh darling, what's wrong?" And she could tell just from mine that I was upset.

"I'm so sorry, mum. I can't believe I missed your birthday. Please forgive me."

"Oh, sweetheart, it's already forgiven, forgotten, and done with."

"I was too wrapped up in the mess here...I'm so sorry I didn't ring you."

"Baby," she sighed, "it's all right. I love you endlessly and unconditionally. Nothing you will ever do, or not do, will stop me loving you."

I sighed, kicking the empty box out of the way and slicing open the next. "I know, but I'm still sorry."

"Is that what's got you so worked up, love?"

"Well, yeah, in part. And also, I sort of had a fight with Maddie."

"Oh no! When? We spoke with her this evening, and she seemed fine."

Wait, what? "You did?"

"Yes, Gemma rang her, I guess looking for you." Fucking Gemma. "We had a lovely chat."

"Oh. Well, that's good I suppose."

"Darling, what happened?"

I told her about my awful day, from waking up late to Sal's van to the model not remembering me to the handful of change to the plane tickets. I told her how I stormed into your house like a hurricane, shouting and cursing and the whole awful ugly thing. I told her how you apologised to me, and how I didn't really apologise to you, not properly anyway.

"Oh, my sweet darling boy. It's rare, but sometimes you're just like your father." I murmured my agreement. "Why didn't you just tell her about everything leading up to that moment, sweetheart?"

"I don't know," I had emptied the last of the boxes, so I picked my phone up and took it off speaker phone, sitting on the crate I used for my lunch break. "I guess it was just too humiliating to say it out loud," I let out a strangled sob. Fuck. I thought I was done crying.

"Breathe, darling. Breathe."

I slowed down, breathing evenly. "I just love her so much, mum, and I can't seem to get past the fact that we come from such different worlds..."

"Oh, my love, you may have different experiences with money, but darling, the two of you have much more in common than not, I think. A love of music and writing, your silly sense of humour. And most importantly, you love each other. You've got to stop focusing on how you're different."

"Yeah...I know. It's just so hard. I mean, at Thanksgiving, she had her friends from the show there, and they were all wearing designer clothes and fancy watches and there I am in the one pair of jeans I own that doesn't have holes in them."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I know how difficult that can be. But Maddie doesn't seem the sort of girl who cares about what you're wearing."

"No, she isn't," I smiled. "She loves me for me."

"Of course she does. Because you are lovely." Usually. Today, I was as far from lovely as one man could be.

"Oh, but I hurt her so much today, mum."

"You will work it out. I know you will."

"I don't know. She was so hurt."

"Of course you will, Harry. You'll work everything out; that's what you do when you're in love. She's still coming with you for Christmas, isn't she?"

"I don't know." I looked up and saw you standing there, in the doorway from the storefront. I stood, nearly stumbling over the crate. I kept my eyes glued to yours as I finished the call. "I have to go, mum. She's here."

Mum awwwwed a little sigh and said, "I love you, Harry. Breathe, think before you speak. Be nice."

"I will. I love you too, mum."

You walked closer, and I found myself once again frozen. I was terrified of saying the wrong thing, so I simply said nothing. I let my eyes wander down your form, taking in the full sight of you. You were wearing my hoodie. I bit the inside of my lip to fight off a smile. Even when you were mad at me, even when I'd hurt you, you still wore my hoodie to run. Like you wanted to be close to me. And you ran here, to Sal's. Maybe things weren't as bad as I feared. "I just wanted to come by to tell you," you paused for what felt like forever, "I love you."

Oh fuck. I stepped toward you, smiling like an idiot, "I love you, Maddie. I'm so sorry I hurt you," I cupped your face and kissed you gently. "I'm so sorry," I muttered against your lips. "Baby, I'm so sorry," Fuck. My voice cracked, and I feared I'd start crying again. I took a deep breath, as mum advised, and slowed down. "I'm not very good at handling my anger. But I don't ever want to hurt you again. I'm so sorry. I promise I will be better at dealing with it in the future."

You laughed awkwardly. "Okay. You know I'm so sorry, too. I didn't really understand why you were so uncomfortable about the money thing until today. I hate that I hurt you, or embarrassed you. And the idea that I hurt your mum kills me."

This might have been the time to tell you that mum didn't even care or notice about the ticket. But instead of fully admitting it, I just said, "I think I probably overreacted." In fact, I suppose your reading this will be the first you learn of what happened that day. Sorry? I'm wincing as I realise that's totally unfair to you. I let you believe something that wasn't true because it was easier. "Do you forgive me?" I asked that day. And I ask again. I'm sorry I was too much of a coward to tell you everything. Please forgive me, love.

"Yes."

"So, you'll still come to England with me?"

"I paid thirty fucking thousand dollars for those tickets. You're damn right I'm going."

I laughed and pulled you closer, kissing you again. "I love you so much, Maddie." My phone binged, and I peeked at it. It was Liam asking again if we'd come over. "Oh, fuck, I almost forgot. Liam and Louis wanted to talk to you about the video. I don't know if you're busy studying for finals or anything..."

"Not really."

"Well, I guess they've worked out some plan for a video but I didn't like the song they chose, so I don't know what's going on really, but he wanted us to come by. I have to work for a couple more hours, to make up for the time I missed." I kept babbling, and you grinned at me in amusement. Eventually, you left, saying you'd stop by there. And I went back to work, cleaning up the mess of empty boxes.

"Everything okay, my boy?" Sal asked from the doorway.

"Yes, I think so," I smiled.

"Good," he nodded. "She's one to keep."

"Believe me, I want nothing more than to have her in my life forever."

"And she's coming home to meet the family for the holidays?" I nodded, smiling. "Let's make a deal, Harry. You pay for the van after the new year. For now, you use your spending cash to buy her something special for Christmas."

I frowned, looking at my feet. It was a deal I needed to take, but I felt guilty. "Are you sure?" Angelica was right. He gave me far more breaks than I deserved. Then again, apparently I was the only one not ripping him off.

"Yes. You get her something nice. And your mother too. Make sure they know they are your best girls."

"My only girls."

"Exactly. Okay?"

I nodded. "Thank you, Sal. You're too good to me."

"Not at all. And I have a wedding present for your mother to take with you. I'll bring it in tomorrow."

"Okay."

A little more than an hour later, he released me, and I walked up the hill to the semidetached. You and the lads were out on the back patio. I tucked my arm around you and looked at the plan. Fucking assholes. It was for Midnight Memories. I gave Liam a dirty look with clenched teeth, and he just shrugged. I was fuming on the inside, but the last thing I needed was to blow up in front of you again. So, I suppressed it. The storyboard for the video did look pretty cool.

"Thanks for doing this," I took your hand as we walked up the hill toward home. "You don't have to."

"I'm happy to do it. For you." Once inside, you turned quickly away from the kitchen. "Can you order something for dinner? I need to register for my classes."

"Uh. Yeah." I'd seen you toss menus into a drawer in the kitchen and dug around until I found them. It felt weird being there. Like the way it used to feel back when we first started dating. Like I didn't belong. I tried to shake that feeling, telling myself it was all in my head. I ordered us some Chinese food, using what I knew of your taste in Thai food to guide me. I got chow mein, beef and broccoli, and teriyaki chicken. And that meal ate up the last of the cash I had on me. I carried the containers into the office and we ate there, with your desk between us. It may as well have been the English Channel between us. You felt miles away. When we were done eating, I gathered up the containers to put them away, and as I headed toward the kitchen, you headed toward the bedroom. "Wait for me," I asked.

"I need to take a shower."

"Okay," I wiggled my eyebrows, trying to stretch across the chasm to reach you. You shook your head. "Oh. Alone?"

"Yeah."

"Oh," I felt rejected. But more, I was so fucking scared I'd damaged us beyond repair, to use one of your phrases. "Okay."

"I just... I need space."

In a beat, my mind bounced like a pinball, reeling at those words. Needing space equalled breaking up. I couldn't believe you'd said that. I couldn't believe how far we'd fallen, so fast. I couldn't believe I'd really ruined us. "Are you breaking up with me?" I breathed the question, my grip on the cartons of food failing.

You looked confused. "What? Why do you go there so quickly?"

I tightened my grip on the paper boxes, crushing them slightly. "You say these phrases people use when they break up. I need space. That translates to I don't want you," my voice broke over the last phrase, and I turned away in case I started to fucking cry again.

"No. Harry, no. I'm not breaking up with you." Well that's something, I told myself. "I just need to think. I need to breathe. That is infinitely more difficult when you're around." Your tone was so cold, so icy, so distant. As if the whole of Antarctica lay between us.

My heart was breaking. Even though you said you weren't breaking up with me, it felt like we were so fucking far from okay. I didn't know what to do, what to say. I said, "Okay. Go shower."

I went to the kitchen and tossed the crushed cartons in the bin instead of saving them. I felt like throwing up. I felt like crying again. I felt like I was having a panic attack. I leaned against the sink, trying to catch my breath. I turned on the cold water and cupped my hands under the tap, splashing my face a couple of times. The cold somehow helped, and I felt a little calmer. But I still felt this desperate gnawing in my gut that told me we weren't okay. And I didn't know how to fix it.

I loped down the hall and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for you. I didn't even know if I was allowed to be here. You came out of the loo in the buff, and I couldn't help the little smile fighting for a place on my face. I so desperately wanted us to be okay. I tried one of our inside jokes, or terms or whatever, whispering, "Brazen."

Your tone was still frosty as you replied, "Unprepared."

So much for that attempt. I reached for you, begging you, "Maddie, please. Come here." You rejected me again with a curt shake of your head. Fucking hell. I seriously thought I might start crying any second. I looked down at my feet. "I don't like this distance, Maddie. Please," I looked back up. "I need you. I love you."

"I love you. But I am not ready for you to touch me."

What the fuck. Why? I didn't understand. "Why?"

"It was such a big step for me to trust you, to let you in, to show you all of me for these last two months. And I'm shaken. My trust is shaken." I fucking knew we weren't okay. You said you forgave me, but you hadn't really. "I'm afraid you're going to hurt me again, and I need some time... to build back that trust."

I stood, lost and broken. I was so afraid you were going to tell me to move out. That you were going to decide we were over. I tried to figure out what I could do to give you the space you needed without losing you entirely. "Do you want me to sleep in the other room?"

You looked perplexed by that suggestion. "No! No. I just... I want you to hold me, to put your arms around me and not let go." I stepped toward you and you leaned into my embrace. "But I don't want you to touch me, sexually. At all."

I didn't understand. I didn't see how sex had anything to do with what happened between us. But I held you in my arms, as tight as I could. I held on like a cat clings to tree. Like a baby holds a teddy bear. I clung to you in search of safety and comfort. And as I did, I considered what you said. The trust we had was broken. Because I yelled. Because I was every bit the monster your father had been. As our relationship developed, you had let me inside the wall, you'd let me see the real you. And I threw all of it in your face. Touching you...to me it had always been an extension of the love I felt. A way to express it. To you, it had been a sign of trust. It had meant that you trusted me not to hurt you. But I had.

I got it. I understood.

I kissed the top of your head, biting the inside of my cheek to keep my emotion from spilling over again. Once I'd reined it in, I said, "Madelyn Turner, I love you. Hurting you is the worst thing I've ever done. I'm so sorry."

You squeezed me tighter. "I love you so much, Harry."

We lay down, and I held you in my arms until you fell asleep. I couldn't sleep. I lay there watching you for hours, replaying the last 24 hours in an endless loop. I promised myself I'd never make such a foolish mistake again. That I'd never hurt you like that again. I whispered those promises aloud to you, brushing my lips against your hair.

I know that I have hurt you again. And I know I probably will again some day. I'm human, and I'm deeply flawed. But I love you with everything I am and everything I have, and I will never stop loving you, Madelyn. This I can promise you. This promise I can and will keep for all time: I love you.

~~~~~

I literally cried writing this chapter.

😭

Happy 4th Amurica.