The Rise Of Glory.

Let's Not Go There.

FlashBack. || August 26th.

I relax on the bed with the pillows behind my back and the soft blanket draped over my legs, my eyes desiring to close and rest but I force myself to keep them open. Sleeping lately has been a challenge for both Harry and me, he tosses and turns most of the night and crawls out from under the sheets by three A.M, leaving me with a cold and empty bed. You'd think by now that I'd be used to it, but the cold emptiness never fails to crawl in on me and make me feel that bitter sense of loneliness.

"And you're going to be okay here by yourself?" Harry challenges as he stands at the edge of the bed with his travel bag on the bed.

The bag has only managed to stay packed away for a whole fifteen days; I knew this was going to be an issue, the second we finally settled here in New York, something would happen and we would have to fly back to London. I knew we would be flying back and forth quite a bit, but I didn't think it would be this soon.

I nod my head as reassurance, "Yes, I'll be fine, surprisingly I can take care of a business, I do run Meyer Enterprise and you didn't give me CAO just for my good looks." I assure Harry that the NYC business will be perfectly fine under my care for the few days that he has to be in London. After all, I did run Styles & Co for quite some time after his accident.

Oh, how they were some rough times.

Harry rolls his eyes playfully and throws a shirt into his bag, "I gave you the position just because you're my wife, absolutely had nothing to do with your skills." Harry offers me his twisted smile that is laced with nothing but sarcasm.

"Mhm, I wouldn't be surprised," I chuckle, "Don't forget your passport in the safe." I gesture towards the wardrobe where the safe is, reminding Harry of the one item that I know he'd forget. There have been a few times he has gotten to the airport in a rush, only to have left his passport behind. The man would lose his mind if it wasn't inside his head, sometimes I think he wishes he could lose his mind for a few days.

"I won't," Harry responds. "No, but are you going to be okay here? Anastasia agreed to be the fill-in assistant here since I don't need her in London while I'm there. She will be here by morning."

"I'll be perfectly fine. You just worry about your meetings in London," I assure Harry.

Harry lets out a heavy breath and nods, "can't help but worry, you know that," Harry murmurs with a slight smile as he glances over at me.

It has always been in his nature to worry about those he cares about, I've watched him worry about his mother and sister from when we first started to date, many years ago, and now his worry has essentially turned towards me and Alexander. I don't think this man knows what it's like to live a day without worrying about something or someone.

"I know, but the more you worry the more stress lines you'll have," I chuckle softly, looking him up and down as he forces an article of clothing into his bag.

Harry rolls his eyes, "These frown lines and stress lines have been here since I was eighteen," Harry responds, "or it's old age setting in, probably the old age."

"You're not that old, hush," I shake my head.

"I'm thirty, definitely not twenty-one anymore, that's for sure. When did we get old?" Harry questions in a teasing manner.

"We~ did not get old," I shake my head, "Speak for yourself," I chuckle playfully, but my petite grin slowly turns to a slight grimace.

Harry's eyes narrow down on me, "You okay?" Harry challenges, his lips pursed into a fine line as he awaits my response— a response he already knows the answer to.