More Than You Know (h.s)

Chapter Five.

HARRYS POV ❁

My eyes stay trained on Rosie's small hand as she twirls the wine around in her glass. Her fingernails are painted almost the same shade as the amber liquid, and I find myself mesmerized with watching her.

"You really didn't need to cancel your date tonight." She comments after a moment of silence, drawing me from my own thoughts. I turn my head up to look at her and admire the soft pink shade of her lips that remind me why I stayed home tonight in the first place.

"It's not a big deal. I'll reschedule it to next week. It wouldn't kill me to spend some time at home with my girl for once." I smile sweetly back at her, then lean over to gently kiss her lips. She tastes like a mixture between fried rice, red wine, and Rosie.

I've always loved the taste of her lips. I hadn't even realized how long it had been since I had kissed her until she snogged me in the car and I was suddenly reminded of her taste and her smell and everything that had me whipped over her in the first place all those years ago.

"Who were you taking out anyways?" She continues on. She doesn't seem angry or jealous asking me the question, but she does seem a little hesitant to hear the answer.

"Just some girl I met today at the convenience store when I stopped to get your snacks." I answer back. She grabs the take-out container from my hands and takes a bite, then giggles while slurping a noodle into her mouth that's hanging between her lips. I laugh along with her while she blushes a bit and continues to giggle.

Not one day in the last four years has passed where I haven't questioned how I managed to convince her to marry me. She's sweet and adorable and completely captivating, where as I'm only good at closing business deals and seducing girls to give me the type of affection that I constantly crave. If I was the type of husband I promised Rosie I would be on our wedding day, she would be the first thing on my mind every time I wanted a kiss or a quick screw, or maybe just a weekend away full of good food, great sleep, and even better sex.

Instead, I'm shitting on all of my vows by immensely enjoying the company of my twenty-year-old assistant and faking business trips every now and then to take some girl away for the weekend that isn't my wife.

"You just met her this afternoon and you already had plans to take her to dinner?" Rosie asks back in surprise. Before I can answer, she's moving take-out containers of of the way and moving over to sit between my legs with her back pressed against my chest. One of my arms habitually winds around her waist while she reaches for her glass of wine, then we both look down at the city below us. Cars are driving fast down the streets while dozens of pedestrians scatter the sidewalks, each of them seeming to be in their own little world, despite being in the middle of an overly crowded city. The first few months that we were married, Rosie and I spent hours in this exact spot.

At the time, her mother was in and out of the hospital with her health constantly up and down. She'd spend the whole day at her mothers side, come home at night and order us dinner, then we'd settle into our spot by the windows in the living room and she'd fall asleep in my arms after spending hours drinking wine and feeding each other bites of our dinner. I never minded her bad moods and the few words shared between us each night. She was going through a lot, and as her husband, it was my responsibility to be there for her when she needed me instead of pushing her to pretend that she was doing alright. She thought she was losing her mother; that's never an easy pill to swallow.

"I'm quite charming, Rosie. I'm sure you've picked up on that by now." I tease back, leaning my head down to gently kiss the tip of her nose. Her eyes flutter shut and she immediately kisses back when I press my lips against her own. Our kisses have stayed short and sweet all evening, which I don't mind. I could imagine me dodging her for a month means we'll need some time to get reacquainted.