PATIENT LOVE

Chapter twelve

"Madelyn, can we talk about this? About what happened?" he says but I'm not even sure what he's referring to. Does he mean all the sexual tension he's been driving on or what happened with Roman when I came back to get him after 5 minutes of him not following my lead to the elevator?

"No, we can't."

He stops me from walking, spinning me around so that I face him instead of walking towards my car. His hands are on my shoulders and his eyes are blazed with anger, still recovering from what happened with Roman, and I can't help but flinch at the scary intensity in his eyes.

He notices how my body tenses. He immediately takes his hands off me, backs away, and a look of disbelief on his face. "Madelyn, God- No, I - I would never hurt you." He can hardly speak.

He runs a hand across hisface, both hands through his hair, looking like his whole world came crashing down. His hand loosens his tight grip in his hair only to run through his disheveled mess of hair once more, pulling at the roots. He's giving me this look like I've wounded him, paralyzed him.

He stares at me for a while, his gaze constantly shifting from my face to the floor, to something behind me until he shakes his head and his eyes suddenly turn soft, so soft, the vibrate color of his eyes faded. "I'll find my own way home, Madelyn." He says, placing his hands in his pockets, still shirtless on the sidewalk.

He looks...ashamed?

I can't help but feel a tinge of guilt for my short moment of fear of him. I want to say, 'No, let me take you home Harry.' 'Everything is okay.' 'Yes, let's talk.' But I say none of these things. He eyes me and does one final nod of the head before turning around and walking away from me.

I stand in my spot, watching his retreating back, not knowing what to say or do. When his figure is lost once he turns the corner of the building I'm brought away from my solid state and I walk over to my car and unlock my door. All I'm feeling is numb, numb to the core.

I sit in the car for a few minutes, arranging my thoughts, not wanting to show up to work with everything that happened on my mind.

In the minutes that I'm in my car I see Roman finally step out from the building, pull out a cigarette as he walks to his car. He doesn't notice me sitting in my car. He leans against the side of his car and then smoke exhales from his lips.

He does this for a few minutes before taking one long drag and then throwing the left over cigarette to the floor, crushing it with his boot. He opens his car door and drives off.

I take a slow breath and start the car, heading to work.

...

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming!" Lana shouts the second I come into the shop.

"I could say the same to you," I counter.

"I was obviously with Chris, he dropped me off today." She beams and I want to say I'm glad because she didn't have to watch the drama that unfolded not too long ago.

"By the way, a team has already been sent to begin setting up the basics for the Matthew's wedding tomorrow." Lana tells me and I can't believe I actually forgot. My mind has just been buzzing and preoccupied with all things Harry and Roman right now.

"Right, let's get to work."

The day was a drag, last minute preparations, constant reminders, new clients, dress modifications, cancelled guests and even a postponed wedding all in the span of this day. I've never felt more tired and exhausted.

When I get home, I'm alone again since Lana is spending the night and maybe more nights over at Chris'. I don't see why she doesn't just move in with him with all the time she spends over there. I go over to the couch and open up my laptop, checking all the email I've received from many clients and potential clients. I respond to them all. When I finally finish I stretch from how stiff I sat in my spot for that many hours.

I roll my neck as I head over to the bathroom with my bottle of wine, ready to take a soothing bath. Once the water is warm enough and the soap completely hides the water I remove the robe and hit play on the playlist on my phone.

I step inside and immediately feel my muscles relaxing to the temperature of the water and my ears buzzing from the soothing music pouring into the room. I pour the dark red liquid into my glass, taking sips. I place the glass down carefully and sink lower into the water. I feel light, like I can do anything under this water. My eyes are closed and I sink lower into the warmth.

Warmth is all I feel. I think of the warmth of this water being replaced by the warmth of Harry's arms around my waist and his breath at my neck, at my lips, so close to my lips. Immediately, my face breaks the surface. I shoot up from the water, not wanting these thoughts, but desperately wanting them at the same time.

Harry, the man whose wedding I'll be planning, the man who says he isn't happy with his fiancée, the man who has made a place for himself in my heart, the man who I watched walk away from me today. He looked so hurt, so broken that I resisted his touch.

I close my eyes and all I see are his green ones staring at mine. His green ones watching me intensely, the ones who've easily became my favorite to look at no matter how hard I try to deny it, no matter how many times I tell myself I can't think this way, I can't feel this way. And I won't.

At least I'll try.