Never Gonna Quit It [h.s.]

Chapter Thirty-Five:

Harry

He cried himself to sleep for months. Often times, the kids would join him but the more time that passed, the more that they were okay; he was still a wreck.

The worst experience, second to Scarlett passing, had to have been the funeral. On one hand, he finally met his in-laws, and on the same hand he got to make them leave, all they had to say was terrible things about Scarlett. And on another hand, he had to see his children mourn her all over again, mourning almost hysterically himself as they lowered her into the ground.

His other half was now, officially, gone.

Actually, he was hysterical. He'd sobbed and clung to the coffin, not wanting to let her go, not wanting it to be real. At that point, his mother had to coax him away, him sobbing and clinging to her like he was a child again.

He wasn't even embarrassed.

The letters she'd written for everyone only made it worse, for him anyway.

He missed her so much.

Each morning he woke and cursed himself for hoping that she would be there when he woke, smiling and kissing him gently to wake him up.

His heart hurt.

Currently, he found himself drowning his sorrows in an old habit, drinking to erase the pain although inevitably getting nowhere.

The journal she'd given him for their anniversary present was filling quickly, the current page starting off with the heartache and falling gradually I to 'I'm sorry' and 'I miss you' over and over again.

A soft voice spoke suddenly and startled him; for a moment, he'd thought that it was Scarlett.

"I don't mean to intrude, but are you alright?"

Wiping his eyes and clearing his nose he answered with a slight laugh, "As alright as a man can be after losing his wife, yeah."

He still hadn't looked up, staring down at his desperate handwriting and still trembling hands.

The woman took a seat beside him, ordering herself a drink and another round for him without much hesitation.

"That sounds awful, I'm sorry."

Rather than to actually respond with words, he nodded slightly, gently closing the journal with one hand as the other fingered the ring around his neck.

Only then did he turn to notice the look she had been giving him. She was hardly concerned with his well-being, her big eyes and flushed cheeks gave her away. He knew the game all too well.

Before she could continue, he held up his hand, "Listen, I'm never going to get over her, it's a fact I came to terms with long before she told me that she was dying. So whatever thoughts you might have had about cheering me up or 'taking me home' might as well just jump off the building themselves. I'm not looking for a distraction, I'm looking for a way to cope on my own since I grew dependent on her. Sorry to be such a disappointment."

The woman's demeanor instantly changed, her eyes switching to a squint and her body language now showing clear anger as she downed her drink before storming away.

Harry found himself mumbling, "I don't want anyone else, I just want her."

* * *

"Happy Valentine's Day Dad, Seraphina and I made this for you although she did most of the work." Ambrose handed him a covered package, decorated for the holiday in red and white.

He looked quite awkward in doing so and Harry found himself laughing before pulling both he and Seraphina into a hug, "Thank you, you really didn't have to."

Seraphina offered him a small smile, worrying that their gift might upset him rather than make him happy as they had hoped, "We know Dad, we wanted to."

His fingers skimmed the neat wrapping lightly, he always hated opening gifts because they were always wrapped so nicely.

Tearing the wrapping as little as possible, he lifted out a medium sized picture frame, the front end upside down so he couldn't see.

He heard each of his children holding their breath but his curiosity got the better of him. Flipping the frame over in his hands, his breath caught and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes once he registered the true picture beneath the glass, it was a portrait of him and Scarlett at a time when they were both just getting used to the idea of being in love.

"You drew this?" His eyes shone as he fought back tears, awaiting Seraphina's answer.

Seraphina nodded, her smile softening at her father's reaction, "Yes, I thought you'd like it. Ambrose picked the pictures to stem from it and he also bought the frame."

Harry was grinning from ear to ear as he took in every detail before whispering, "Your mother would love this, thank you."

He hugged each of them once more before settling on a place to hang the picture.

* * *

He'd been doing good until he noticed the date on the calendar, the very date that he'd first met her. The kids, who were no longer kids but teenagers, were spending the weekend at his Mums and he'd stupidly gone out and gotten drunk off his ass.

He was halfway through fucking some random woman when she started shouting at him to stop because "I already told you! My name's not Scarlett! Fucking wanker."

Everything hit him at once and he simply cried, muttering "I'm so sorry" to someone who wasn't there as the woman left.

He hated himself and spent the rest of the night scrolling through Scarlett's old phone, letting the familiar pain take over once again.

"I can't do this without you..."