Matrimony Homies

45: All For One (Loren)

"Thank you, Pri." I hug my therapist before twisting to Harry's therapist and thrusting my hand forward. "And you too, Max." Picking up my handbag, I wait for Harry to say goodbye to both therapists prior to stepping to the door. "This has got to be the weirdest Christmas gift anyone has ever been given," I laugh.

"And yet one of the most valuable," Priyanka shakes her finger at me. "Not many boyfriends would buy their girl a year of monthly joint therapy sessions."

"Yeah," Harry beams. "That's true. It's unique." His puffed-up pride is so cute that I want to pinch his cheeks.

"As for you, mister," Max warns Harry, "Not many girlfriends would be grateful for joint therapy."

"Okay, okay," Harry raises his hands in surrender. "I understand, and we're both appreciative of your willingness to continue joint therapy in this unconventional way."

The therapists glance at each other, and I catch Pri winking at Max in what I can only assume is appreciation of the coming year of payments. Which is rude on my behalf. They're lovely individuals, and finding dates and times plus travel for our therapy must have been a challenge.

"Merry Christmas!" Harry calls to them, waving as we exit Priyanka's office in Wilmslow. He grasps my fingers in my glove, swinging our arms as we walk to the car. When we arrive, Harry opens the passenger side door before he freezes, his eyes narrowing and staring across the street.

"What is it?" I whisper.

"Either paps or fans," He mutters.

"Well, then let's give them something to photograph," I whisper, puckering my lips for him while I stand at the open car door. Surprise makes his eyebrows shoot nearly to his hairline, and I watch as he contemplates what I've suggested before he leans down and brushes a quick peck on my lips. "Oh, please!" I object. "That wasn't nearly long enough for them to actually grab a quality photo. I mean, if I'm going to be on the cover of the tabloids, I want it to be a steamy, passionate kiss that leaves no doubt in the minds of anyone that we love each other."

Grinning, Harry moves closer to me, backing me against the car door. "The death threats aren't scaring you off?"

"Nope. You can tell Jeffrey to stop sending them."

His laughter at my clearly absurd assertion means his mouth is already open when he swoops in and kisses me, and I cling to his neck as he devours my lips, providing exactly the right amount of tongue to make me purr. Despite the facial hair he's started to grow again.

Drawing back, Harry gestures to the open door. "It's a little chilly. Shall we go celebrate Christmas Eve with Anne and Gems?"

"The only way I ever want to celebrate," I promise, and Harry looks slightly pained, so when he slides into the driver's seat after safely helping me into my seat and closing my door, I feel compelled to ask. "What? You don't want to spend every Christmas Eve with your mum and sister?"

Having just finished our first joint therapy session where tears had been shed yet we felt lighter for it, I'm familiar with his hesitation to tell me the whole truth. But I'm learning to give him time (and he's learning to be completely open with me despite my seeming-fragility).

"Once in a while, I'd like to spend Christmas with just you and me," he murmurs as he steers onto the B5359, "and our kids."

His words cause a shiver down my spine, and I find I can't catch my breath. Placing my head between my knees, I focus on breathing in and out. Harry places his hand on my back, rubbing gentle circles.

"Do I need to pull over, babe?"

Shaking my head side to side, I continue to focus on drawing air in and out of my suddenly-constricted lungs until the vise loosens and oxygen once more reaches my brain. Carefully I sit up and rotate to face him.