Fifty Shades of Styles (3 book series)

B3: Chapter Ten

I stood in the doorway and watched them sleep. Their chests rose and fell repeatedly, it put my heart at ease.  I smiled and crept back out of the door closing it softly behind me.

The house was quiet. I looked at the clock that emitted white light. 4:02 A.M.

I pushed open Harry's office door softly. The blanket I brought in earlier was still draped over him. His head lay on his open book. From where I stood I could see dribble down his chin. I pushed myself through the door and lifted his head softly not wanting to wake him. I grabbed the book in slow motion. I lay his head back down on a piece of the cover that draped off of him. As I held the book I noticed his messy penmanship. It's was scrawled across the paper aesthetically.

At the top of the paper rested the word Cherry written in near cursive. My mind drifted to the French word. Chéri. Darling. A smile crept onto my face thinking about the title. But as I read through the lyrics my smile faded.

I, I just miss... I just miss your accent and your friends. Did you know I still talk to them? Does he take you walking 'round his parents' gallery? Don't you call him 'baby', we're not taking lately. Don't you call him what you used to call me, I read. My heart dropped. I had no clue who this song was meant for but one thing I did know... is that is wasn't meant for me.

8: 47 A.M., a little under five hours have I been sitting at the island in the kitchen staring and hating this beautiful piece of paper. Cherry. Chéri. So similar in sound. So different in spelling. Who is this girl? I thought. He had not even been out of the house much. It had to be one of his ex's but who? Who would he miss that much?

"Good morning," He drawled lazily as he stepped into the kitchen with the blanket that I threw on him draped over his shoulders.

"Hm, yeah. Good morning."

He looked at me through tired squinted eyes. He shrugged off my tone and moved to place a kiss to my temple. I sighed at his touch.

"Are you okay?" With his head tilted he studied me. "You seem off?"

"It's because I am," I reached over and slid his songbook to him with it open to Cherry. "Who is this song about Harry?"

"You went through my things?"

"I thought everything was ours?" I questioned furrowing my eyebrows. "Who is the song about?"

"No one!" He raised his voice. Defensiveness. Oh, yeah. There was no doubt now.

"Answer the question, Harry," I stated calmer than before. "Right now, transparency is key... whose the song about?"

His eyes darted back and forth before he huffed and left the room. I buried my head into my hands and let out a muffled yell. I closed the book. He will tell me when he's ready, I thought thinking it would ease my troubled mind. It didn't. If anything, it stressed me out more. What if he decides not to tell me? Am I really just going to ignore his entire reaction to a simple question? On our wedding day, since then, we promise no secrets. We promised each other honesty... no secrets. Why is he keeping this from me?

I brushed my hair up into some type of messy bun and dressed for the gym.

When my mother was alive, she used to preach to Ian and I that a healthy body meant a healthy mind but running never solved anyone's problems. I can safely say, she was one hundred percent correct. I've been running on the treadmill for hours. I don't feel better. I matched my mental state with my physical state... shit. As I ran I stared at my reflection. I looked tired. Worn out and beaten. From around the corner emerged Harry. He looked at my face in the mirror. I stared back at him.

"Yes?" I asked exasperated.

"I've been watching you on the security cams, you've been at this for hours," he sighed leaning his head against the wall.

"So?" I huffed.

"Take a break... please."

"No thank you," I looked back at my reflection. I hadn't stopped since I came down here. I hadn't even had a drink of water.

"Liv..."

"Leave me alone, Harry," I protested increasing my speed again.

"If you don't stop or drink something, you're gonna pass out soon," he waltzed over to me. "I wanna talk."

"Then talk, this should not bother you."

I could make out the frustration on his face.

"The song... its about one of my ex's," he sighed tiredly.

"Yeah, I understood that part when I read the words 'I just miss your accent.' Cause I realized that I don't have a fucking accent!"

"It's about Camille Rowe."

"Okay," I said trying to stay calm and keep my focus on my feet hitting the treadmill. "Who is that?"

"She was the girl I dated before Nadia. We didn't move fast. We took our time, we learned the in's and out's of each other. And before she could get too close, I'd realized that we were already to close," he whispered staring at the ground as he recounted the memories with her. "I don't remember who broke us, it could have been me... I was to afraid but so ready. Or it could of been her who just wanted to be free."

"Do you miss her?" I asked before I could stop myself.

He looked at me and smiled. He stood and cut the treadmill off.

"What are you-" he cut me off pulling me into him and kissing me softly.

"What I had with her will never compare to what I have with you."

His emphasis on those words unexpectedly soothes my heart.

"So what was that this morning? Why were you so defensive? Why didn't you just tell me this in the first place?"

His reaction this morning was still playing through my head. He was so defensive. As if I had asked about his deepest darkest secret.

He hesitated a moment before he answered: "I-I-I was afraid of how you'd react." He fell silent. I didn't see an ounce of honesty in his eyes. But I stayed put, cuddled up in the warmth of him. "The wound is still open in my heart, I wrote this for closure. To pour all that was left of her into this song and release it. Like a goodbye."

"Hm," I hummed. "Well," I started removing myself from his embrace, "if that's what you say, then I believe you. If you're lying," I looked at him and placed a hand softly on his cheek. "I can only hope that you tell me when your ready."

My father always told me that some things were better left undiscovered. I almost wish I would've listened.

End of Chapter