The Maiden in Winter // Harry Styles Series #4

FIFTY TWO

~H~

What the fuck am I going to do? Who can I tell? Leigh? Caroline? Gemma? I can't tell Mum. What a secret to keep from her, but she can't ever know. Obviously Olivia knows. I honestly didn't expect to hear from her ever again. Olivia... I know what Alex thinks, and I'm not sure if it isn't better that it stays that way. Alex... What the hell am I going to do about Alex? After the way I treated her she might not want anything to do with me. She'll have to wait. I have to deal with this first. But how? What the bloody hell am I supposed to do?

***

~A~

Andy called me Monday evening to say that the SUV had just driven by, on its way out to Maiden Point.

"Was it Harry?"

"I don't know. It was already past my place when I saw it, but it was definitely his car. I'm sure you'll hear from him soon. Maybe he'll come surprise you. Or you could just go out to the house."

"And if it's not Harry? Or even worse, what if it is, and she's with him?"

***

The roses came to the store around one thirty on Tuesday. Masses of them. In sunset colors from pale peach through deep yellow and burning coral. The card read:

200 days, each brighter than the one before.

A future glowing with promise.

My love and my light.

I left some at the store and closed up for an hour while I took some to Lizzy. The rest came home with me, where I arranged them in the kitchen, the living room, my bedroom and bathroom, even Bean's room. When I got back to the General, Andy was waiting for me.

"Well?"

"Two hundred fucking roses. A beautiful note on the card. But the florist said they'd been ordered last week. No word from him today. Nothing."

"You need to go out there, Alex. I'll stay here as long as you need me to. If you're not back when the bus gets here I'll watch Bean. I'll feed him and put him to bed if I need to. Hell, I'll make sure he gets to school and open the store for you tomorrow. Go home, put on some sexy underwear, and go get your man!"

He was the best best friend in the world.

I was at Maiden Point in half an hour. Because I was unexpected, I buzzed at the gate. There was no answer on the intercom, and the wrought iron didn't swing open. I buzzed again, smiling and waving at the camera. Nothing.

I called Andy.

"Are you sure the car didn't leave this morning?"

"I'm sure, and we would've seen them drive by the store."

"No one's answering. Should I let myself in?"

"He gave you the code so you could come and go as you pleased, right?"

"Right."

"Then yes. And if somehow they slipped out and we didn't see them, you can leave a thank you note for the flowers."

"Ok. I'll call you later."

My fingers knew the pattern by heart. Nothing happened. I tried again. The gate didn't move.

What the hell was going on?

Andy's face was surprised, then stormy, when I walked back in the store five minutes later.

"Why are you here?"

My voice began to shake as I answered, "It didn't work. They must have changed the code. They didn't answer when I buzzed, and they changed the code." I sat on one of the tall stools and leaned my elbows on the counter, forehead in my hands. "He's ghosting me." A tear splashed on the Formica, then another.

Andy was beside me in a flash, arms around me, murmuring, "That bastard. I'm going to kill him. You don't deserve this. What the fuck is wrong with him?"

He held me as I cried, then pushed me gently away a few minutes later. "Shit. Mavis just pulled up. The bus will be here soon." He lifted my chin with careful fingers. "Go out the back. Go home. Take a bath. Get in bed. I'll close the store a little early, bring Bean by to get him some clothes, and take him to my place for the night. Go take care of yourself."

"I love you, you know that, right?" I whispered in a sob-scratchy voice.

"I do. Now go. The gossip mill doesn't need to know about this, and she's coming this way."

I slipped into the back room and out the door.

***

I was in the tub, listening to Falling and Ever Since New York on repeat when the boys came to the house. I managed to keep the crying in check and my voice steady as Bean knocked on the bathroom door.

"Can I come in?"

"No buddy, I'm in the tub."

"Can I really have a school night sleepover with Uncle Andy?"

"You can. It's a little treat for my best guys."

"Does that mean Harold's coming over too?" His voice was so excited, I nearly broke down again right then and there.

"I don't think so. I'm not even sure he's in town today."

"Uncle Andy said all the roses were from him to you. That's a lot of flowers!"

That did it. I felt the hot tears sliding down my cheeks again. "It is. Now, you and Andy need to get going so he can make you dinner. I love you, little bro. I'll see you tomorrow."

"I love you, big sis. Tell Harold I love him if you talk to him. See you tomorrow."

It was the first time he'd said it out loud, that he loved Harry. How was I ever going to explain that we might never see him again?

***

I think part of me still believed he might come the house, call, or at least text, until I finally cried myself to sleep around midnight. When I woke the next morning I couldn't get out of bed. I stayed there all day, curled up with Nyx and Lux, debating reaching out, even going back to his house, until Andy called me just after four o'clock.

"Are you ok?"

"No."

"I'm so sorry, honey, but I have to work tonight. Should I ask Mom and Dad to take Bean?"

"No. I can't be like this. Bean needs me. I've made it through worse."

"I know you have. That doesn't mean this isn't really hard for you. What can I do?"

"Bring Bean home. I'll be ready by five. I'll be ok, I promise."

"We'll see you in an hour. Call if you need Bean to go to my parents."

I was exhausted. I was lost. I was so damn sad. But I'd be ok for Bean.

We had a quiet evening, and Bean was nothing but helpful and sweet. I wondered if Andy had told him to be kind to me, or if he just sensed that I needed peace and quiet. Either way, I let him have two scoops of ice cream and two bedtime stories for his good behavior.

I slept the night through, a deep sleep with no dreams, and woke just as sad. The lunch crowd was a good distraction, especially because no one asked about Harry, and then the afternoon seemed to drag on. I spent the time making up orders and contemplating life without the man I'd so recently thought might hold a permanent place in our world.

On Sunday morning, a week after the heartbreaking night in New York, I decided to text him.

'Are you ok?'

When I'd had no answer by Monday morning, I texted Fred.

'Is he ok?'

An hour later, my phone dinged.

'Please don't text, call, or come out. I swear it's not about you. I can't say more. I'm so sorry Alex'

Then nothing.