Matrimony Homies

17: Magic (Harry)

"So we saw five castles this weekend, but only two we kind of like?" Loren asks as we're nearing London. "I guess that's two more than I expected to like, but..." Her voice trails off, and I glance her way quickly.

"What?"

"They're so far away from both London and Manchester. Maybe we should check out someplace closer to home?" She posits, and I consider her question.

When I booked this weekend, my goal had been to spend time with her in my then-presumed-doomed mission to find out what had caused our split all those years ago. Having astonishingly accomplished my aim, I have to reconsider everything in my playbook. Because truthfully, now my only goal is to provide the best possible wedding for Gemma. That's it.

Sure, Jan.

Shut up.

"Fair," I say calmly. Selfishly I want to travel across the entirety of England and Europe if need be to rebuild our friendship. "I can tell you that there weren't really any other venues in the London area that I would even consider."

"Then that leaves Manchester," she announces boldly. "Why don't I spend a little time the next couple of weeks checking to see if there's a place worthy of our time? You could come up and spend some time with your Mum before we go visit."

It's practical. Dammit. And has the ultimate result of reducing our time together.

"Yes, of course. That makes absolute sense." Although I wish it didn't. Now that we've found each other again, I'm loath to spend two weeks apart. What if she decides in that time that she shouldn't have forgiven me? What if she chooses to tell Mum what I said all those years ago? What if she... Recognising I'm spiralling, I rein in my negative thoughts. No reason for freaking out. However, I make a mental note to get in with my therapist this week as soon as possible because clearly there's residual emotions floating in my psyche.

Loren has continued speaking while I'm in the midst of my mini-panic attack. "Now that we know the theme, perhaps you could find a printer for the stationary? We're going to need 'save the date' cards, actual invites, place cards, and a few other things."

"Aren't you forgetting we're supposed to do everything together?" I inquire anxiously.

As she twists in her seat, Loren rakes her eyes over my face. "What's going on in that head of yours, Dork?"

"No idea what you mean, Freak." I feign innocence. "Just restating Gemma's requirements."

Sighing, she doesn't take her eyes from me. "H - I didn't say for you to choose the invites or the style. What I said was that you could maybe locate a printer for our needs. Maybe even see if they've got a few samples for us to look over. Then we would – together," she emphasises, "choose the invites." Narrowing her eyes, she continues speaking, "So why the need to –" As she pauses, I can practically hear the wheels spinning. "You're worried we'll go back to how things were before."

She states the sentence as a fact, and I sigh. How the fuck does she still know me so well?

"Lor! You came!" I squeal when she enters the backstage area with Mum, Robin, and Gemma after the 2012 Sheffield show at City Hall. Running across the dressing room, I embrace her, not caring that I'm sweaty from the show.

"Of course I did, Dork. Had to make sure I was here in case you screwed up."

My laugh is gleeful and high-pitched, and I try to tone it down so my bandmates don't suspect I have a crush on this beauty. "Of course. You'd hold it over my head forever, wouldn't you?"

She ruffles my hair – as if I'm a kid! – and grins, "That's my job as your pseudo-big sister."

"But I didn't screw up, did I?" My desire for her praise, even if I have to press for it, is intense. "I did well, right?"