Prologue

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I woke up slowly, my eyes eventually being pried open by the warm sunlight filtering into the room. Next to me, the covers were ruffled, signaling Harry had already awoken. I stepped out of bed and wrapped my robe around me. The cold wooden floor hit the heels of my feet as I walked down the hallway, in search of my boyfriend.

As I entered the kitchen of the small apartment, there he was. Morning hair ruffled, cup of tea in hands, green eyes seemingly engrossed in the tv show, his bare muscular back to me. Quietly, I approached, and wrapped my hands around his waist. He flinched briefly, but relaxed moments later.

"Good morning," I whispered into his neck.

"Morning." His voice was deep and rough around the edges.

I stepped back and poured myself tea with the remaining water in the kettle before coming back to him. I looked into his eyes for the first time this morning, and I could see... Something was wrong. I knew it, but I didn't know what.

"Harry, are you okay?"

"Yes."

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "Baby, what's wrong?" I cupped his face in my hands. He didn't look me in the eyes.

That's when I noticed his hands were shaking. I took the mug out of his hands and inspected them. His knuckles were red and bruised. Recent wounds were present. I looked at his face again, noticing a forming bruise above his left eyebrow. His bottom lip was slightly busted. "What happened?" I whispered.

"He's back."

"Who?"

"You know who."

My jaw dropped. That's impossible.

"He wants you back, Aubrey. He broke into the apartment."

This can't be happening.

"Can't we call the police?" My voice cracked.

"No." Harry's voice was firm.

"Security?"

"No."

"Why?" What could he have possibly told Harry that would make him like this?

"He'll... He'll hurt you." His voice cracked with defeat.

"Not if we call the police," It was more of a question than a statement.

"We can't. He will know."

"We'll fingure this out," I whispered.

"Yeah, we will." He offered a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

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