of diamonds and dry martinis [hs]

Chapter Five *

The days turned into weeks without the whisper of a word from Merci. A small part of Harry had hoped that maybe, just maybe, their encounter at his party wouldn't be the last. Slowly but surely, that part of himself fizzled out into nothingness, leaving him with the remnants of a painfully beautiful could've been disaster.

"The whole point of the move was to keep you under the radar," the man said on the other line. "All these big purchases are doing quite the opposite."

"Nothing's changed," Harry said sternly as he poured himself a drink, resting the phone between his bare shoulder and cheek. "Remember this was all possible starting with my money; as far as I'm concerned, it's still my fucking money."

"I understand that," the man said with agitation. "But you need to remember what's at stake here, my friend."

"You wanna remind me?" Harry asked before slamming a hand onto the countertop and grabbing the phone from his shoulder with the other.

The man on the other end went silent.

"I'm fully aware of our situation," Harry seethed. "Let Josiah know I'll be in touch; on my fucking terms. Let him know-"

A knock on the front door caught him off guard, pulling his attention from the phone towards the front hallway. It was late, pushing towards eleven o'clock in the evening; far too late for an arbitrary visitor.

"I've gotta go," Harry said, quickly cutting off the conversation. "Tell him I'll call tomorrow."

Before he could get an answer, he hung up the line and tossed the phone into a drawer under the gleaming kitchen counter. Leaving his drink abandoned, he took the hallway slowly with his eyes on the door. He could see a person standing at the door through the manipulated glass, but their identity was kept concealed.

After turning the hallway light on, he unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open to see a weary and distraught Merci on his porch. He parted his lips to speak as he took in her appearance; exhausted eyes rimmed in red, distantly tear-stained cheeks and once flawless curls now imperfect messy waves.

"Merci," he breathed as he looked out behind her into the darkness of his driveway to see her Audi with no sign of Roger. "What are you doing here?"

"I can't do this, Harry," she said through shaking words. He studied her expression, taking her in as she let out a breath.

Wordlessly, he pulled the door open further and stepped aside, allowing her to step into the entryway before shutting and locking the door behind her. He wanted to be there for her, say something to make her worries disappear, but he knew he couldn't do that; he was never good at easing tensions.

"Where's Roger?" He asked softly as she looked up at him, her eyes skimming his bare chest on the way up.

"Florida," she said. "He'll be gone for a few days."

"Harry," she said before he could say any more. "I'm so fucking lost."

He wet his lips with eyes trained on her as she wiped gently at her cheeks.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you, about us. No matter how hard I try to forget you, I can't. I-I look at him and...you came in and you ruined my life, Harry. Everything was fine before you. I could just, exist in this fog, and now-"

"It was never fine," he assumed sharply.

"I could at least pretend it was," she croaked. She had a small taste of what life could be; an absurdly carefree, breathtakingly beautiful life far from Roger and her abominable past. Now that she knew what the other side looked like, there was no turning back. "And now I can't."