All Again

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
HARRY
Now.

The first night in Casa de Styles-Johnson, she began decorating.
As my old Becca stood over our new bed, arms stretched above her head, with the prettiest smile- my focus was on getting her naked.
'I can't believe this space is so huge.' she had said, as I placed gentle kisses on her neck, holding her from behind. 'I can do so much with these walls.'
'M'hmm.' I mumbled, pulling her hands down, and taking them in mine.
I had smiled against her skin, removing a thin cami strap off her shoulder with my teeth. Her ideas had been spouted for hours.
'Oh! Oh, and baby I could paint in here!' she said in raised excitement. 'Maybe a nice cream or gray...A warm brown!'
'Maybe.' I said as I thought of the other colors I had already heard today.
In the last fourteen hours I had stood by listening as she verbally pieced our house together.
Who knew my girlfriend was a secret interior designer?
By now, she was an echo.
I went for her other strap.
I was still only concerned with one thing- her skin and how quickly I could see it in full.
'Oh, and add some drapes...and maybe a wall decal!' she said turning to me with exclamation.
The brightest smile stared back at me, and I seized all movement.
My girl was happy.
Maybe the happiest I had ever seen her and it was worth taking in.
Things had changed that day.
For Becca, there was a wave of independence and freedom wafting through the air at finally getting out of her parents house, mixed in with a new realization.
We had made it.
Our relationship was on a new level.
Forget the tattoos and the puppy love words we had said in the past.
We had roots now.
A foundation.
A new chapter to our lives and relationship.
We now had something we could create from the beginning, together.
I looked at my bubbly girl and felt proud.
I was apart of that glorified expression and her grin was so wide, a small dimple couldn't be contained.
There was no sign of exhaustion from the long day moving our things in, or the small argument with the movers who had almost scratched one of her new antique tables.
There was no evidence of the small trips she had made after, making sure our home had the essentials on our first night.
Ya' know, hand soaps and towels and the rounded pink rubber spatula Becca insisted we were missing in our lives.
'I can make us pancakes in the morning!' she had boasted.
She had spent hours between the Dollar Store, Target and a Home Goods store, while I tried to stay in the shadows with a gray hoodie and sweatpants hoping no fans saw us. After all, as far as the fans knew, I was somewhere reclusing in London and not laid up with her in California.
The majority of the evening then spent hovered over pizza boxes, and tossing around used bubble wrap.
I had watched her in complete fascination not making a peep, as she moved around bumping her 90's 'get shit done' playlist and moving about the house like a madwoman.
She was my madwoman, and I had loved every minute watching as she danced around our kitchen, putting away the new dishes, screaming No Doubt's it's my life, don't you forget! with a carefree naiveté, and making me already grateful for the decision.
Looking at her I had thought, this living together thing is my best idea yet.
I could easily spend everyday like this.
I could get an endless high from watching the way she sorted and gathered...blending our lives together as one.
Though in honesty, we had been there for a while.
The only difference was, we now had an actual excuse as to why we would spend so much time together.
Now, a year and a half in, we were already considered joined at the hip, and practically living up under each other- thanks in part to my break and the minor breakups we had hit at the year mark. I guess you could call it making up for lost time and most days we were together anyway.
California.
London.
It didn't make a difference. We were there. Together.
However, you couldn't see it now. At this moment, I was the last thing on her mind.
I heard more words.
Blend.
Pair.
Add.
As I thought of blending, I pictured a different image of skin sliding and our bodies molding together in my favorite way.
All week, the moment of christening this place on my mind.
Right now her loose bun, cami top and leggings were doing something to me.
I tried to pull her back to me.
She instantly pouted the minute my lips touched skin again. That pretty face upturnt in impatience.
'You're not listening to me, are you?' she had scolded.
'Not really' I said with an honest grin.
She sighed.
'Harry, your such a guy'
I ignored her dig, and reached for her again. She moved a bit out of my grasp.
'No, no...Look at this space Harry. Imagine all the things we can do with it.'
'Yeah...and imagine all the things we can do in it.' I counteracted, fixing her with my charm.
She shook her head in protest, turning back to the wall.
'We have days and months for that.' she reminded. 'Baby, just listen for a moment. We could put some pictures up too. Some of our favorite moments together'
'What do you mean?' I asked, since I was half listening. The cami top was now off, leaving her bra and leggings. The bright orange bralette in front of me had to be new. I eyed it in appreciation.
'Pictures,' she reiterated. 'Memories. Favorite moments Harry.'
'Not going to work' I said.
She instantly turned to me in question.
'Well why not?'
'Because every moment with you has been my favorite. This bedroom is huge, but it still wouldn't be enough space.'
She instantly grinned, shaking her head in annoyance and turning away from me.
'Picture it though,' she said softly. 'Try babe.'
My hands curled around her slim waist and my mouth found an area of her skin again.
I already had.
I had been waiting on this moment with someone for so long and my thoughts weren't necessarily only sex.
I just couldn't keep my hands off of her.
I needed to touch her and be close to her.
This moment was finally real.
I spun her to face me, pecking her lips gently.
'You're such a frustrating man' she said in front of me. 'I'm trying to envision here. Make this space ours. I need some ideas babe and you're trying to get laid.'
I sighed loud as possible, faking complete irritation now, but there was none.
I was completely content.
'We have days and months.' I reminded her, saying her words from before. A finger clasped around her ponytail, yanking, and her hair fell.
I smelled her shampoo, breathing her in.
As always she smelled lovely, and I smiled as I realized now I could wake up to that scent everyday.
She would be stored in my pillows.
This idea was getting better and better.
'I'll make you a deal.' I said turning her back around. Her head leaned against my shoulder. 'I'll give you plenty ideas. After, I make love to you' I reasoned.
She sighed, giving in. A gentle moan finally escaped those soft lips as my own continued to trail soft kisses across her collarbone.
She was quiet for a bit, lost in her own thoughts.
'Harry?' she called as I undid the back of her bra. Like a boomerang, it snapped apart quickly.
'Yeah?' I asked then, raising my eyes.
"Aren't you excited?' she whispered in a special secret, as if we weren't the only ones home- as if we weren't in our home. 'We're here. Living together. We're finally home babe.'
I kissed her cheek and didn't argue with her, though she was wrong.
I had been home, and no pictures or decorations was going to change that.
Home was her and home was us.
And though our 2,500 square feet condo was luxurious with a scenic view, furnished amenities, round the clock guest services and lots of privacy- I didn't need it.
Honestly I had got this place for her and Becca never needed to add one thing.
I didn't need the pictures or 'cream walls' she was planning.
As long as she was here, and we were together, this would be the warmest place on Earth and I was already right where I needed to be.
I didn't need anything else.
We already had our home inside of us.
I had felt it for a long time.
'I'll tell you what,' I said pulling her as close as possible. 'I do have an idea for that wall.'
She pushed against me, and our cheeks touched.
'Tell me.' she said happily, finally getting somewhere with me.
'Remember the first picture we took together?'
She turned her head and looked at me curiously.
'On the beach?'
I was confused for a second, then I remembered; California. Me, her and the moon.
'No' I said, 'Before that. Bangkok love.'
'I don't remember.'
'You do.' I said poking her sides. 'With Cal. At the palace. Before..."
She smiled, remembering. 'Ohhhh. I don't even know where that picture is. Who knows where the hell that camera is packed. And I haven't charged it in forever. Probably doesn't even work anymore."
I ignored her casualness about our potential lost beginnings.
That camera, wherever it was, had at least a hundred pictures of us.
'Well let's dig it up. Place it right there.' I said, letting her go for a second and pointing to a place on the wall.
Her smile widened, picturing it in her eye, then she turned to me curiously again.
'Why that picture though? We have so many others.'
'Because that was the beginning, the first one, and here we are again'
'A new beginning?' she asked softly.
'A new beginning.' I said, confirming, and we locked eyes.
We shared a kiss starting our first night in our space.
~~~~

Now,
I move my eyes away from the picture.
Now,
I run a hand through my hair, breaking my trance. For a couple minutes, I had been lost in our past mini movie, remembering everything from that first day.
Yet now, I am alone, still stuck in the place Becca left me.
More than 'two minutes' has passed and I can't believe I've just been standing there.
Something about that picture though, draws me in.
'Look at us! Look at our life Harry!' she had screamed only minutes ago, demanding I look at this stupid fucked up wall of us.
I had, able to break my eyes away from it and redirect her to the living room, but yet, the moment she left, my eyes went back there.
I haven't even changed my clothes.
I study us: the smiles, the kisses, the happiness in our eyes.
We were once an incredibly beautiful sight.
Now, we are just a wall of broken memories.
Turning away from everything in this dreaded bedroom, I sigh.
I need to refocus.
I quickly go to my old dresser, pulling on the first thing I see.
As I head back to the living room, I feel the flame and eyes watching me from the other wall of our dreaded demise.
They judge me.
Past Harry and past Becca....boy, you two really fucked this up.
I try to ignore it all.
"Where did you put my clothes?" I ask as I make it back to the main room, where most of the old memories are housed. After I exit our long hallway passing the other rooms; our home gym, her old office....
I don't wait to lock my eyes with Becca as I head back into our shared kitchen a couple seconds later.
The place is spotless, and there is no evidence of my tirade a couple minutes earlier.
The shards of glass I expect to see are gone. Then I remember.
She says she cleaned up.
I look for my clothes. The ones I had taken off in my few seconds of insanity.
The seconds I spent kissing her and undressing.
The few seconds I thought we could be happy again.
It's almost hard to believe it happened.
Without the evidence, I wouldn't believe it did.
As always, whatever little passion we had left is overshadowed by the darkness that has taken its place.
I have a thought that whatever chance we had is never coming back again.
The other side has won and I'm defeated.
I practically wave to it, inviting it in to get comfortable and settled.
Hello Misery, almost thought you weren't coming...
"Over here." Becca calls gently, pulling my sudden thoughts.
She is a short distance away, sitting on the couch and watching me.
She is waiting for us to get started again.
I am just looking for a distraction.
Its weird.
I can't wait to get this over with and for her to leave, yet my body is doing delaying tactics.
In the bedroom it took me forever to throw something back on, and now, once more, I'm using the thought of my clothes to distract me from what I really need to talk about.
I need the distraction from what I'm going to see.
I'm itching to know what happened, but then again i'm not.
I know once I do, it will really be over.
Everything I've held on to for the past two years will suddenly mean nothing. The relationship i've tossed and turned over and thought about constantly- will all be meaningless. Reduced to nothing in a short few sentences.
I wonder if thats how she feels too.
Maybe that's why she just won't tell me the whole story.
She lifts slowly as I make my way over to her.
The new Becca holds my clothes out and we don't lock eyes as I take the first item from her.
I can't.
I'm not ready to see the new person just yet.
Can't I just remember the one from the picture a little while longer?
That one was so lovely.
"Are you ready?" she asks. Her voice is soft and somewhat timid.
The smugness I heard a couple minutes ago, gone.
That almost makes me turn to her.
A few minutes earlier, she seemed so ready to throw down.
I'm not stupid and I know what is she planning and its not going to work, still, I was looking forward to it.
I like her fire and ambition, and I can't wait to be the water to put it out.
Yet now, a different Becca is standing before me.
In the couple minutes of distance, seems she's been doing some thinking too.
I begin to 'air-fold' my tshirt.
"Are you?" I hear and I'm confused.
"Am I what?" I ask Becca back, lost by her question.
"Are you ready to start?" she asks again, and I blink.
I had forgotten the question that quick.
My eyes stay in her general area, but I still purposely don't make the eye contact.
I'm not ready to go back to that place.
Yet, she forces me.
She makes a movement towards me, and as a natural reaction, our eyes lock.
I wait for it to come back.
Likes waves crashing, I wait for that rush of emotion.
The anger so intense, I couldn't even stand her near me.
I wait for the hate a couple minutes earlier to move its way through my body until it spills out of my mouth, but it doesn't.
Where the fuck did it go?
She hands me my pants, and I'm speechless.
I actually don't want to curse her out.
The red I was seeing, has turned to a bright sunshiny yellow.
I turn from her, finally answering her question.
"Almost." I say though my voice sounds like a mumble.
The hardness to my tone has quickly disappeared too.
What type of voodoo shit did that picture do?
I make a move to walk away from her, but she stops me, grabbing my arm.
Her touch is foreign though- at least something has remained as it was.
"Harry," she practically squeaks. "Can we talk first?"
"We have been talking." I remind her, pulling away from her. And I don't want to hear anything more outside of her story.
Stay. Focused.
She sighs, and her gaze moves to our old balcony.
I use her distraction and walk away from her.
I head back by the kitchen counter. Setting my clothes on the granite, I hear her.
"I've turned my phone off." She reassures suddenly. "So we can't be interrupted anymore."
I don't know if that's a good thing or bad thing yet, but it does bring a thought to mind.
"What about Chase?" I ask, still turned away from her. "Doesn't he need to reach his beloved?"
"What about Julie?" she asks a second later. It is her own way of reminding me I've done the same thing.
We both have cut off all contact to the outside world right now.
Unless our old house phone rings, there is no more reasons for distractions.
We are once again, completely alone.
It's a scary thought.
"I don't worry about Julie," I mutter, "She's a big girl. But give me a second first." I say suddenly. "Before you start."
My hand goes to the fridge, and as it opens, my eyes skim.
I'm not hungry and I'm not thirsty, but its there again; the delay.
I'm shifty.
I hear Becca again.
First the sigh, then the feet.
Pad, pad, pad, until she is on the opposite side of the bar.
"Can we please start in London?" she asks behind me. "I know you don't want to talk about it, but its important."
"Maybe to you." I say lowly. "But not to me."
"Not to me." she says. "But to our relationship."
I roll my eyes and keep skimming.
What fucking relationship?
Now that we're here, I realize we never really had one. It was all lies and bullshit.
My eyes catch the bright maroon liquid in front of me.
I try to ignore the juice I made this morning and the other 'Becca' items I had got in case she was going to stay for a while. This morning, after her tweet the day before, I was hopeful. I was thinking maybe this could have a happy ending.
Boy what an idiot I was.
How could I ever imagine this would end good? How could I ever think I would maybe get her back?
She continues behind me.
"Could you at least hear my reasoning?"
"No." I say.
"But it's important!" she says in defiance.
"Becca-" I begin with an impatient sigh. She's dancing on a nerve.
"No screw that."
Becca starts on me.
"Harry tell me you don't think that was a defining moment? Tell me you don't remember the park, and after your shows, and meeting your dad, and the first time we made-"
I slam the fridge in frustration and she grows quiet.
I hate the constant reminders.
It's getting fucking excessive at this point.
"No." I say once more. "I don't remember and I don't want too."
I close my eyes and press my head against the fridge, sighing.
Strike all her bullshit from the record! I tell my mind.
Don't even think about that time, I internally scold.
Don't remember.
Don't dwell.
But I do.
My stomach turns.
"We're starting in California." I restate. My tone is final. "And actually, I would prefer if you start towards the latter, when I caught you and your boyfriend at Bagatelle." I say, pulling off the fridge and turning to her. "Let's just get to the point."
Her eyes are all over me.
"You're still hung up on that? Harry I didn't want him and I wasn't there for that. I wasn't cheating on you. It wasn't a date, it was just a -"
"I was there." I remind her, flashing my eyes. "And that's not why I bring it up. It's just a marker."
She gives me an expression, which lets me know she doesn't believe me. She seems to bask in the thought that I could still be jealous of her with another man.
I'm not.
And she was wrong.
She was going to cheat on me. That was the whole point. In her own fear, she was ready to run, ready to-
She takes a seat on the stool.
"Well I'm starting in San Diego at the concert." she says in more defiance. "Its only a few days difference anyway." she notes.
I roll my eyes again.Of course she is.
She doesn't even listen to herself, why would I think she would listen to me?
"Fine. Do whatever the hell you want, let's just get it done."
She rests her hands on the counter and looks up at me.
"Can you make me a promise first?"
Our eyes lock directly.
"Promise that you will at least hear me out? Have an open mind?"
I don't promise anything.
"Just start." I say.
"Promise." she says again.
My eyes search hers.
She demands with those honey brown irises.
I shrug her off.
"I've told you. I'm not good at making promises."
Surprisingly she smiles.
A warm girlish smile that once again reminds me of the girl in the pictures; the one I use to love hopelessly.
"You always say that, but its complete bullshit. You're the best at promises...when you try." she adds.
I just look back at her.
The face of the old... mixed in with the outfit of the old... mixed in with the smile of the old... has me doing a double take. Present Becca only sits in that pretty dyed hair in front of me.
Everything else is a reminder.
It is too much for me.
Things are blurry.
And there is too much in these rooms between us.
Lust. Love. Happiness. Anger. Sadness. Disappointment. Hatred.
Laughing. Playing. Cooking. Sex. Shouting. Endless all day arguments only breaking to sleep.
Memory after memory.
Problem after problem.
"Just please start." I say before I completely lose my mind.
"No, promise." she says with continued determination.
Still so stubborn.
"Fine, whatever." I say with a dismissive wave. "I promise, and I'm listening."
Out of the corner of my eye, she smiles again.
She plays with the tips of her fingers.
"Okay." she says springing into action. "I don't know where to start...um..." she trails off.
She bites her lip in thought.
"Well...Kelsey was so excited." she says slowly. "She kept texting me when I was on vacation with my family. She couldn't wait to see you guys again the day of the concert."
I feel her eyes go to me, but I focus on a cabinet.
That's the safest during this. I can't look into those old eyes.
"And man the drive was horrible." she says with a sigh. "Even though we left early, it was like everyone was coming to your show."
She pauses.
She wants me to say something, but I have nothing.
She drones on, talking more about the ride, and the music they listened too; the fast food run.
Her story seems to take forever as I hear about the hotel check in's and redressing. Blah, blah, fucking blah...
I still remain silent.
"I then remember finally making it to the stadium and waiting on Jeff. It was so funny trying to pretend like I didn't know him. Christina was not that stupid, and it had to be so obvious."
My eyes have not moved from the cabinet- in all of that.
"And then I saw you." she says with a slight raise to her voice, calling my complete attention. "I missed you." she says and the Becca irises taunt me.
I move my eyes back to her slowly.
"A lot." she says the moment they connect.
Green on Hazel.
I swallow.
Her words are laced with something. She's not just talking about the past, I can tell. There is a little bit of now thrown in there too.
My stomach flips again.
She continues.
"Ya know I loved you so much even then, but I was so scared. Could you tell?" she asks looking at me.
I don't answer.
She sighs, continuing to talk to herself, because I can't say anything right now.
"Well I did. And I was....I was terrified...That pull though...." she says with a chuckle, trailing off.
Her eyes search mine for a second more before going back to her hands.
She grows quiet. She starts playing with the tips again.
Damn her.
She's knows what she's doing.
This time she doesn't start again.
She's forcing me to participate.
"What pull?" I hear myself say seconds later, taking my cue.
"Us." she says and lets the words hang in the air.
She doesn't look at me and she doesn't stop playing with her fingernails.
The weight and meaning of her words is heavy.
I know what she means.
She's not talking about the fear of actually being together as a couple.
She's taking about what lies underneath. Whether it's a good or bad interaction, we can't stay away from each other.
Even now.
Something always makes us come back together eventually.
I've tried to break myself of her over and over, but thatpull....that fucking pull that is a magnet between us...I've never had it with anyone else.
I've never felt so tied to one person.
Despite our history, it dawns on me that I've probably got more of her in my veins than blood at this point.
"But oh well...back to the point right?" she says, once again meeting my eyes.
Green on Hazel.
Hazel on green.
The old mixing with the new.
My thoughts hazy.
My stomach turning.
"Yeah." I say.
I try to focus on my one detox. The kyrponite between us; our baby.
The one I have to keep reminding myself she killed.
The poor innocent soul she took from me.
That's how I get myself out of this.
That's how I move on.
If she got an abortion, I can move on. I can finally be rid of this fucked up spell.
I look in her eyes again. The old definitely taking over the new.
Fuck.
Otherwise...
She runs a hand through her dyed hair and I once again think how nice the color is against her skin. Her skin, which has always been a warm olive color seems to have grown smoother with age too- like a wine.
I think of how Chase must run his hand through her hair. How he kisses her. How she smiles at him.
I feel disgusted.
I don't think she even realizes how bad he is for her. They don't belong together and underneath the expensive suits and polished haircut, I can see his true colors. He's a fuckboy and she deserves so much better. He adores her sure, but look at how much her life has changed since she's met him.
Why doesn't she realize that?
I clear my throat and look back at the cabinet.
Well, not my problem. I have the luscious blond locks of Julie St. Clair to grip. I have her sweet glossed lips to encase mine.
I have her smile and her devotion.
That one thing, even Becca couldn't give me.
I know I always loved her more than she loved me and its nice to finally have that feeling back.
Yes...Julie is who I belong with.
So...once more...back to the damn point.
"Anyways...You were saying?" I hear myself say.
Becca sighs.
I sigh.
And she begins again.
All fucked up again.
And i'm already sucked back in.

Notes