Summertime & Butterflies

“Well… welcome home?”

Olivia scowled at her sister as she struggled with her seatbelt, tugging it forcefully. “What the fuck is wrong with this stupid thing?” she grumbled, shoving the seatbelt back into the retractor before trying to buckle it again. She let out an exasperated sigh, shoving Stephanie’s purse, which was covering the buckle, onto the floor.

“Your car is really fucking dumb,” Olivia informed Stephanie unnecessarily as she managed to get the seat belt fastened. She grunted out another sigh, crossing her arms over her chest.

“So you’re cheerful…” Stephanie commented dryly as she began to drive through the airport parking lot.

“I just may or may not have broken up with my boyfriend, and just flew for a hundred years, through four billion airports, to get home,” Olivia snapped. “So yeah. I’m fucking happier than a pig in shit.”

Stephanie grinned, Olivia’s curt comments not fazing her. “Does this call for wine?” she asked. “I’m always down for a bottle or two!”

“I just want to sleep,” Olivia muttered, leaning her head against the window as she watched the familiar sights of her home town whiz past her. She thought the next time she drove down this highway, she would be with Harry. Now, she didn’t know if she ever would be.

Stephanie’s face softened. “You guys will figure it out,” she promised, reaching over to pat Olivia’s hand. “It’s just a hiccup you have to get past. You’ll be fine…”

Olivia shrugged. It had been nearly eighteen hours since she left Harry’s house, and she hadn’t heard a word from him. He couldn’t be missing her at all. “I don’t know…” she answered. “He hasn’t texted me. I told him it was all up to him. So…” She trailed off, shrugging again.

“Well… I mean, I know you said you didn’t give him an ultimatum, but…”

“I didn’t,” Olivia interrupted, though she was beginning to wonder if she did. “I told him I needed him to be part of my life and show me that he has time for me. And if he can’t, then…”

Stephanie laughed, shaking her head at Olivia. “Do what I want, or else I will do what you don’t want… Textbook ultimatum, Liv! He’s probably at home, missing you and thinking, fuck, I want to text her and save this, but what’s the point, because I can’t do what she’s demanding of me!”

“I’m not demanding anything,” Olivia argued. “I just want the same kind of respect and time that I give him.”

Stephanie rolled her eyes. “How many times have I had to miss things that I want to do because of Jeff’s career?” she asked. “How many family events has he missed? I mean, he missed his son’s birth, for crying out loud! He didn’t want to… Just like Harry doesn’t want to miss things with you. But they both have these shitty, demanding careers and it sucks hard that we have to take the backseat sometimes, but we do. You knew, going into it, that it wasn’t going to be easy with Harry,” Stephanie reminded Olivia.

“Why do you always, always take his side?” Olivia grumbled, hating that there was an ounce of a chance that Stephanie may be right.

“You make it pretty easy to take his side,” Stephanie pointed out. “I mean, shit, Liv! He has his first solo world tour coming up in a matter of weeks, and you want him to drop everything to come to Kamloops? To a barbecue? Come on…”

Olivia chewed on her lower lip, absorbing Stephanie’s words. “I just want him to be a part of my life,” she repeated. “It’s not just a barbecue. It’s… everything. I want him to know everyone, and meet everyone, and see everything! His house felt like home to me, and he’s never even seen mine.”

“Well, he will,” Stephanie reminded Olivia. “Just… not when he’s days away from embarking on a fucking world tour! Stop being stupid about this whole thing! Don’t make him choose between his career and you. Because you know what?”

“What?” Olivia sighed, wishing Stephanie would just shut up and drive faster.

“I think he would pick you.”

Olivia laughed loudly and shot Stephanie an incredulous look. “Oh please!” she snickered. “Never in a million years would that happen. He’s picking his career right now!” she reminded her sister.

“No, he’s not,” Stephanie argued. “He’s probably trying to figure out how to cancel an entire tour!”

“Don’t be stupid,” Olivia snapped. “He is not, and he would not. Stop… just stop. Okay?” she pleaded, wishing Stephanie could drop the Harry subject and find something else to talk about. At this point, Olivia would rather hear boring anecdotes about Stephanie’s children, just to get her mind off of her failed relationship.

“Okaa-aa-ay!” Stephanie replied in a singsong voice, irritating Olivia. She hated when Stephanie thought she was right, and even more when she knew she was right.

The rest of the drive to Olivia’s house was silent. As Stephanie pulled up to the curb, Olivia was relieved to see her cousin slash house-sitter’s car was gone. As much as Olivia enjoyed her quirky cousin Bobbie, she didn’t want to socialize or make small talk. But since Bobbie lived in dorms in Calgary during the school year and had intended on being at Olivia’s house until the fall term started, Olivia would be stuck making small talk for a couple more weeks.

“Text me later,” Stephanie told Olivia, shifting the car into park. “I’d still be down for wine, if you need it.”

“Thanks, Steph,” Olivia replied, hauling her suitcases from the back of the car. Despite their sass and arguments, Stephanie and Olivia had a strong sisterly bond that no amount of bitchy attitudes could break.

Stephanie waved out the window as she drove off, leaving Olivia alone at her front door. She huffed out a quiet sigh, somehow not feeling happy or relieved to be home after months away. But again, she didn’t think she would be coming home alone.

She pushed open the front door and, after a moment, two feisty cats thundered through the house to greet her. She kicked off her shoes and the two cats attacked them, wrapping their paws around the fabric as they chewed. A third cat, stretched out on the sunny windowsill behind the couch, lazily looked up at Olivia but refused to vacate the coveted spot. And finally, the fourth cat, the leader of the pack, moseyed his large body into the living room. Seeing Olivia, he immediately began weaving between her ankles, his loud purrs sounding like an engine.

Olivia slumped to the floor and Casper took the opportunity to wiggle his body onto hers. He nudged Olivia’s chin, purring as he rubbed his head against her neck. Olivia wrapped her arms around her oldest cat and buried her head into his fur. Sensing her fragile emotional state, Casper stretched his neck and gave Olivia’s cheek a lick with his rough tongue. He met her eyes and gave her a long blink before resting his paws on her shoulder. Feeling the cat’s love, Olivia broke down. Now she was home. Now she could cry.

~*~*~*~

Though it was only mid-day when Olivia got home, she curled up into bed and slept through to the following morning. It took her a bit to get settled – after months of being in Harry’s bed, her own bed felt foreign and uncomfortable. But eventually, she drifted off to a dark, dreamless sleep.

When she woke up the next morning, Olivia felt far from rested, even after her abundance of sleep. She knew her parents were eager to see her, but she couldn’t be bothered to attempt to humanize herself and go to their house, just to rehash the entire fight with Harry with her mother – who was even more opinionated than Stephanie. Instead, she brewed herself a strong pot of coffee and settled onto the couch with her cats and Bobbie’s leftover pizza.

Olivia was deep into a House Hunters marathon when she heard a car door slam outside of her house. She listened for a moment, refusing to move from her couch coma unless they rang her bell... which, they did. As the doorbell rang through the house, she let out a grumble before trudging to the front door, probably to greet her impatient mother.

When she pulled open the door, Olivia was flabbergasted to see Harry standing on her front step. Even more baffling was her dad, backing out of the driveway after appearing to drop Harry off. He beeped the horn and waved out the window to Olivia, who waved back with a slow, confused motion.

She turned to Harry, stunned that he was standing at her front door. It was such an unexpected visit. Words eluded her as she stared at him, wondering for a fleeting moment if she was still asleep and dreaming. Finally, Harry spoke.

“Uhm… I met your dad…” he commented slowly, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards, as though he couldn’t decide if his statement was funny or not.

“I see that…” Olivia answered, her brows still knitted together curiously. “What are you doing here?” she finally asked.

Harry frowned, his head dropping. “I, uhm… wanted to see you…” he answered after a pause, his voice rising questioningly. He looked up at Olivia, offering her a slow shrug. “Is that… okay?” he asked hesitantly, his head slightly dropping again.

“Well… I mean, yeah, but…” Olivia shook her head, still taken aback by her surprise visitor. “How did you… did my dad pick you up?”

Harry nodded, allowing a small smile to creep onto his face. “Your sister helped me,” he informed Olivia.

Olivia sighed. “Of course she did,” she answered, sounding more annoyed than she felt. She wasn’t annoyed by Harry’s arrival at all – she would be delighted to see him as soon as the surprise of the visit subsided. She wanted nothing more than to hug him and kiss him and forget the last couple of days even happened. She knew the latter couldn’t happen – and the former would take some time – but it didn’t change her desires.

Harry shifted his weight uncomfortably, glancing over his shoulder to the vacant driveway. “Uhm… maybe I shouldn’t have, but… I did, and… can… can I come in?” he stammered out.

The question was so cordial, so polite, so unlike the conversations Harry and Olivia usually had. It had only been a couple of days, but it felt as though they’d been apart for much longer. Were they already strangers?

Olivia nodded, stepping aside to make room for Harry. “Sorry, yeah…” she apologised, closing the door behind him as Harry entered her home. Suddenly, her small, cozy home seemed old and scruffy compared to his beautiful home in Los Angeles. She wondered if Harry noticed the cracked kick moulding, the weedy flowerbed or the shabby DIY paint job on the walls.

She shrugged embarrassedly. “It’s not that great, but it’s…” She trailed off as she gestured to her home.

Harry shook his head. “Don’t,” he told her with a scoff. “Don’t do that. It’s perfect,” he assured her. She knew he would say that.

Harry kicked off his shoes and stood in front of Olivia, his hand stroking his chin. Olivia knew it was a nervous habit of his, a twitch he would use to comfort himself. She’d seen him do it before, but this time, she knew it was used to ease the nerves she caused. She hated how quickly things had changed.

Olivia let out a quiet breath. “Harry… why… why did you come here?” she wanted to know.

“I needed to see you,” Harry repeated. He drew in a deep breath before exhaling loudly. “I… I… fuck, I just…” He sighed again as he looked into Olivia’s eyes, seeming to have difficulty conveying his emotions. Surprising her a moment later, Harry took a step towards Olivia and quickly enveloped her in his arms.

Olivia let out a shaky breath as Harry hugged her, her own arms encircling his waist. She felt his body relax as Olivia hugged him back, and he nestled his chin against her shoulder. Olivia’s hands trailed up Harry’s back and she gripped his shoulders, tugging her closer to him. Their fight became nothing more than a distant memory as she stood enveloped in her love’s arms.

“I missed you,” Harry murmured, his fingers tangling through Olivia’s hair. “When you left, I…” Olivia felt Harry swallow hard, as though he was trying to hold back a sob. “I… I thought about what you said, and you were right.”

“I don’t know if I was…” Olivia admitted, resting her cheek against Harry’s chest. “Steph explained it… said you have this shitty, demanding job, and… I have to take the backseat sometimes…” She shrugged, though her lip found itself jutting out at the thought of being second to Harry’s career.

“No!” Harry exclaimed, his sudden outburst startling Olivia. He held her at arms length, shaking his head at her. “No, that’s bullshit, Liv!” he added as he began pacing back and forth through Olivia’s living room.

She watched him; his apparent agitation taking her by surprise. “What are you talking about?” she asked him, her brow furrowed. “I thought you wanted me to be more understanding about your career and all of the shitty demands that come with it.”

Harry ran his hand through his hair. “It’s fucking crap that you feel like you’re in the backseat! Crap that I made you feel that way,” he corrected. “I never, ever want you to feel like you’re not my number one. I told you that you are, and I fucking mean it. I’m just fucking shit at showing it, apparently.”

“Harry, it’s…” Olivia tried to reassure him, but Harry held up a hand, stopping her. He strode across the room, taking Olivia’s hands in his.

“I came up with something,” he told her, directing Olivia to the couch. She sat down, Harry’s hands still joined with hers as he sat down beside her. He beamed at Olivia, releasing one of her hands in order to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You’re so beautiful…” Harry murmured, letting his finger gently caress Olivia’s soft cheek.

His touch caused goosebumps to rise on her skin and she smiled at Harry, covering his hand with hers. “What did you come up with?” she asked, gently prodding Harry along.

He grinned again, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. “I found this awesome little calendar app thing,” he said proudly, clearly unaware that even middle aged women used calendar apps to schedule their hair appointments. He flicked through his phone, opening the app before thrusting the cell towards Olivia.

“See, I put in all of my tour dates until Christmas… and I put in all of your school holidays…” he boasted, swiping through the calendar. “See? There’s this weekend… there’s this weekend… this one is a long weekend, and I don’t even have a show that weekend! There’s so much time! You can fly out… I’ll try to come here, I will! I will come here,” he corrected. “And we can see each other…” His tone took on a pleading tone as he looked at Olivia.

“I know it’s not the same as this summer, but…” Harry looked hopeful. “I’m going to make you see that you’re my number one.”

Harry was so sweet, Olivia wanted to cry. She covered his hand with hers and squeezed gently. “Harry…” she began slowly, taking his phone from him. “This… you’re so sweet. But…” She began scrolling through the calendar. “Fuck… I have a wedding on this weekend, and this one… And I’m coaching the girl’s volleyball team again this year, and that takes up so many weekends, and…” She trailed off, dropping her head.

Harry was silent. “So… what exactly are you saying, Liv?” he asked after several long, quiet moments had passed.

Olivia gestured to Harry’s phone. “I mean, yeah… there’s a few weekends where I can maybe fly out… Spend hours on a plane to see you for twenty minutes. But it’s…” She sighed. “It’s a lot of work…” she confessed quietly. “Our relationship seems to be hard enough. This seems like it’s going to make it so much harder…”

Harry’s head dropped dejectedly. “I thought… I mean, this can be a real solution here!” he told her. “And I said I would come here, too…”

“No, you won’t. You can’t,” she corrected. “This is still going to be me, coming to you. Which is how this entire fight got started in the first place!” I think, she thought to herself, though she couldn’t exactly pinpoint what had happened to make them get to this precarious point.

Harry sighed loudly. “I know that,” he huffed out. “But… it’s just a year! Just one tour, and then…”

“And then what?” Olivia pressed. “Then there’s the next tour, and the one after that. Then there’s a new album or a new movie or… It’s never, ever going to be Monday to Friday, dinner every night together with us, Harry.”

“So… then tell me what you’re saying!” Harry repeated. “You knew that, going in,” he reminded her. “Is that what you need?”

Olivia covered her face with her hands. “I don’t know,” she admitted. Her mind was racing, and yet none of her thoughts were intelligible. “I don’t know what we’re supposed to do! We’re always thisclose to breaking up, and then we’re just not supposed to see each other for three months and think that we can keep this going? I don’t want to spend eighteen hours flying to Paris, just to scream at you for twenty minutes before I go home!”

“I think we’re more than just two people who scream at each other,” Harry told her, pulling Olivia’s hands from her face. “Come on… I love you. And you love me. So what if we yell? I know I’m pretty easy to yell at,” he added, offering Olivia a small smile as he attempted to lighten the mood.

“You are,” Olivia admitted. She tried to match Harry’s smile, but it came out more like a sad pout.

Harry softly touched Olivia’s extended lip, tugging it gently. “Careful you don’t trip on this, love…” he teased her, letting his hand trail to her chin. He pulled her face closer to his as he kept his eyes locked with Olivia’s.

“What are we going to do?” Olivia whispered, her forehead resting against Harry’s. Somehow, she couldn’t think of any way to rectify their relationship. She thought she would go to battle, climb any mountains and cross any ocean just to keep her and Harry together, but every viable solution seemed to involve one of them – her – sacrificing their own lives, careers and independence.

Harry smirked at Olivia, his arm snaking around her waist and tugging her against him. “You could quit your job… run away with me…” he told her teasingly, his fingers gently combing through her hair.

It was a tempting thought – giving up the mundane routine of her life and hopping on a tour bus to travel around Europe with her rock star boyfriend. Sometimes she didn’t know why she wouldn’t. She didn’t have to work. Money was far from an issue with Harry. But something inside of her – pride, maybe fear – kept her from making the leap.

“You could quit yours and come live in this gross little city with me,” Olivia countered, a hint of a cheeky smile on her lips.

“I could…” Harry mused quietly, and for a split-second, Olivia wondered if her sister was right. Would Harry give it all up for her, if she just asked? She would never ask him to, but she couldn’t help but wonder what his reply would be.

They sat silently together, his hand still weaving through her hair, her hand tightly gripping his, as though neither one of them wanted to face where the conclusion of their conversation would lead them.

“Dating me must be hard too,” Olivia commented, breaking the silence as the realization suddenly hitting her.

Harry scoffed. “What are you on about?” he asked. “It’s the best thing ever…”

Olivia smiled sadly. She wished Harry would agree with her, so she wouldn’t feel so bad about saying how it was difficult to date him. “I just mean… when you dated Taylor, or Kendall…”

“Ugh!” Harry scoffed. “Stop!”

Olivia touched his knee reassuringly. “No, I just mean… I don’t have the same life as you do. They did. I can’t hop a flight and spend a weekend in Spain. They could, and… I can see how it’s difficult for both of us… And I can’t give you what you need, either. You need someone spend time with and be with just as much as I do. You remember how hard the spring was,” she reminded him. “And now… it’s just going to be so much harder…”

“Yeah…” Harry said slowly, finally seeming to agree with Olivia’s thoughts. He laced his fingers through hers and squeezed. “I know what you’re saying. And… you’re right…”

“Yeah…” Olivia said quietly. The silence found them again, only the slow, rhythmic tick of the wall clock filling the room. Olivia felt as though she was leaving so many words unspoken, words that Harry needed to hear and words that she needed him to know. Those words seemed so final, so conclusive that they refused to find their way to her lips. But finally, Olivia spoke up.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

Olivia looked up, facing Harry. “This is over, isn’t it?”

Harry let out a soft sigh before nodding his head, ever so slightly. “Yeah… I think it is…” he admitted, his voice hoarse. He pressed a kiss into her hair, and Olivia heard him sniffle quietly as he came to the realization that their relationship was over.

He nudged her face towards his, his tear-filled eyes looking into hers. “You’re my best friend, Liv. I thought you were going to be my wife…” he added with a wry smile. “I don’t think I’m never going to love anyone the way I love you…”

“I never have… and I never will…” Olivia confessed, her voice almost inaudible as she let her head rest on Harry’s shoulder, despite their conclusion. She let out a wobbly sigh. “What do we do now?” she asked him, feeling the tears build up, but this time, she didn’t blink them away.

Harry draped his arm across Olivia’s shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. “I guess we just…” He sighed as he trailed off. He pressed another kiss against her forehead. “Remember this summer… always…”

Olivia nodded. “Always,” she echoed softly, knowing that she could live for a hundred more years and never, ever forget the story of their beautiful love.

Notes