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P.S.

Eighteen

Olivia let out a loud yawn as she awoke before rolling onto her side and wrapping her arms around Harry. She rested her chin on his shoulder but he didn’t stir. Given the intensity of the tour – not to mention the not-so-quiet tryst the night before – it made sense he would still be sleeping.

Rather than waking a tired Harry, Olivia pressed a gentle kiss against his shoulder before slipping out of bed. She found an old receipt in her wallet and scribbled out a note for him. She wanted to make sure the coast was clear before her joined her upstairs. Denise had assured Olivia the day before she and Olivia’s father had to run errands all morning, but Olivia didn’t trust her word.

Olivia pulled on her robe before ducking out of the bedroom and climbing the stairs to the kitchen. To her chagrin, both her parents were sitting around the kitchen table. Judging by their attire and dishevelled hair, they weren’t about to begin their errands any time soon.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Denise chirped, her voice high-pitched with exaggeration. “Where’s our Prince Charming?” she wondered, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Still sleeping,” Olivia answered, reaching into the cupboard for a mug. “He doesn’t get much rest while touring,” she added before Denise offered a disapproving scowl.

“I see…” Denise mused, the simple sentence saying more than just the two words. “Well, I’m hoping I get to meet him!”

Olivia refrained from rolling her eyes. “He’s only just downstairs,” she reminded Denise. “I promise, you’ll meet him.”

Denise let out a short chuckle. “I think it would embarrass me to be the last one to rise at my girlfriends parent’s house!” she chuckled, her humourless laugh grating Olivia to the core. It would mortify Harry when he discovered he was the last to wake up, but Olivia would not subject him to her parents any sooner than necessary. She only hoped they would tend to their errands before long.

“Ah, let the boy sleep,” Mark Hayes piped up. Olivia shot him a grateful look. Her father was a man of few words, but when he spoke up, even Denise listened to him.

Denise shrugged. “I’m just saying,” she replied, standing up and putting her cup in the sink. “Anyway,” she continued, turning back to Olivia. “Your father and I are going to Costco and the hardware store, and then to Auntie Julie’s. She has a couple projects for Dad. Can I leave you in charge of preparing the lasagna for tonight, or will Mr Loverboy distract you too much?”

Olivia let out a sigh. “I think I can pull myself away from him for a minute or two,” she retorted, though it would be a challenge. “When are you leaving?” she added pointedly. She didn’t want to leave Harry in the basement for much longer. She also didn’t want him to venture upstairs, mere hours after fucking her, and meet Denise and her threadbare robe from 1997.

Denise snickered. “Soon,” she promised. “I just need to have a shower and do my hair. Then you can let your lazy love muffin out of the dungeon.”

“Mother, he’s not lazy,” Olivia snapped. “He’s exhausted! You try working his schedule! Christ, you want a nap and two glasses of wine after an hour at Home Depot!”

“I’ve got a few years on him, dear,” Denise reminded Olivia. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” she said, dismissing Olivia with a wave of her hand. “Hopefully I get to meet him and you don’t run off to the airport while we’re gone!” Before Olivia replied, Denise patted her arm and disappeared down the hall.

Olivia huffed out a sigh as she refilled her coffee cup. “She is infuriating,” she said to Mark, filling a second cup for Harry. “Please, please, please talk to her and make sure she’s nice to him! He’s super nervous about meeting Mom, and her being a cow won’t help.”

Mark looked up from the newspaper. “Don’t call your mother a cow,” he chastised. “But… I’ll make sure she’s nice. She’ll like him, you know she will. She’s just… being Mom.”

Olivia scoffed. “That about sums it up,” she replied with a roll of her eyes. “Thanks Dad,” she added before taking the two cups of coffee and retreating down the stairs.

The sound of muffled voices coming from above awoke Harry from his slumber. He stretched his arms, reaching for Olivia and frowned as he found her side of the bed empty, save for a crumpled piece of paper. He grabbed the receipt and squinted at the handwritten words.

Don’t come upstairs, Momzilla is on the loose! #scary. I love you, brb!

Just as Harry finished reading the note, he heard footsteps on the stairs. A moment later, the bedroom door opened and Olivia stepped inside. She flashed Harry a wide smile as she balanced the two cups of coffee in her hands.

He held up the note. “We’ve got to work on your hashtags, love,” he teased. “Hashtag ‘scary’ is something a grandma would say on Facebook. But, well… then again…” he trailed off, giving Olivia a teasing smirk. “Suppose if the shoe fits, yeah?”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “Careful, this is hot and could hurt…” she warned, holding the cup of coffee above Harry.

Harry snickered, reaching for the cup. “You wouldn’t,” he challenged, pulling the cup towards him before she accepted his challenge. He didn’t think Olivia would dump hot coffee on him, but she also rarely stood down a challenge.

“I could…” Olivia mused, shrugging off her robe. Harry’s groin stirred at the sight of her, wearing an old Budweiser T-shirt and a pair of simple cotton undies. She couldn’t look sexier.

“Get over here,” Harry demanded, setting his coffee on the bedside table and grabbing into Olivia’s shirt, pulling her towards him.

She laughed as she climbed onto the bed and straddled Harry. “How did you sleep?” wondered Olivia, feeling goosebumps rise against her skin as Harry ran his fingers along her bare thighs. She rocked against him, an involuntary motion, as she sipped her coffee.

Harry traced his fingers against Olivia’s soft skin, dragging his gaze up her torso. The old T-shirt hung against her braless breasts, leaving her curves to the imagination and memory. Lucky for him, his mind had imprinted the image of Olivia’s chest the moment he laid eyes on her glorious breasts. “Slept good…” he answered. “Awfully quiet here though. Bit to get used to.”

Olivia nodded. “It is,” she agreed. She didn’t tell him she liked the deafening silence over the bustling city sounds. Harry liked the city life, so Olivia would have to learn to love it.

Harry smirked, jerking his hips in up upwards motion. “What are you doing, trying to get me all riled up for?” he asked, letting his hands wander from her thighs to her breasts. He held each breast in his hands, squeezing gently.

Olivia wiggled her breasts against Harry’s hands. “I’m not doing anything!” she protested. “You’re the one who dragged me onto you and then grabbed my tits!”

“And who’s the one wiggling her sexy ass against my dick, hmm?” Harry countered, thrusting again. He couldn’t make love to her now, not with her parents awake, but she wasn’t the only one who could tease. Of course, he would have a massive case of blue balls and she wouldn’t, but he hoped he would get eventual relief.

Olivia rolled her eyes. “I don’t think you mind…” she whispered, setting her coffee down before leaning down to meet Harry’s lips with her own.

Harry met Olivia’s kiss, his hands travelling from her breasts to her back. He ran his hands under the hem of her shirt, pushing the shirt up. Despite telling himself they couldn’t do anything while her parents were awake and in the house, he broke their kiss for just a moment and pulled Olivia’s shirt over her head.

“Oops,” he mumbled out before she captured his lips again, a libidinous passion behind her kiss. Her rocking intensified, and she moaned into his mouth as she gyrated her hips against his erection. Harry snickered against Olivia’s mouth. “I think you’re trying to use me, sweetheart…” he informed her, assisting in her pleasure by pushing his hips against hers again.

“Shh…” Olivia murmured as she pressed kisses along Harry’s skin. “Are you complaining?”

Harry grinned. He wasn’t, but he wasn’t about to let her get away with it either. He grabbed her knees and lifted her leg before sliding out from under her, laughing at Olivia’s aghast face. “You know I can’t fuck you while your parents are awake,” he told Olivia, a teasing tone in his voice.

Olivia’s jaw dropped. “Are you rejecting me?” she asked him, her stun only a half-joke. She crossed her arms in a huff over her bare chest. “Has this ever happened before?”

“So dramatic,” Harry snickered. He rolled onto his side and propped himself up with one elbow. His free hand drew absentminded shapes along Olivia’s leg. “But no… I think this is the first time I’ve ever pushed your hot little body off of me…” He reached up and pinched his fingers against her breast. “What did I do that for?” he mused, forgetting for a moment why he refused to have sex with her.

“Because you’re some kind of ridiculous sex saint?” Olivia countered, flicking his hand away from her chest. She understood his plight – she doubted she would make love to Harry in Anne’s home – but he still turned her on and she still wanted him.

Harry took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. “Ridiculous, anyway,” he agreed. “Once I know your parents like me, I’ll fuck you in front of them if that’s what you want…” He trailed off as he met Olivia’s furrowed brows. “That didn’t come out right.”

“No shit, idiot!” Olivia laughed, shifting her position as she laid down and settled her back against Harry’s chest. “You’re dumb and annoying, but it’s sweet you’re respectful,” she assured him. She linked her fingers with his and gave a light squeeze. “My mom will like you,” she told Harry, despite her uncertainty. “She’s kind of… well… a bitch, and she’ll give you a hard time, but…” She rolled over and faced Harry, placing a reassuring kiss on the bridge of his nose. “It’ll be okay…”

“Okay,” Harry replied, his stomach tumbling. Denise’s disdain for him could only stem from one person – Stephanie. It angered him to no end that Stephanie told Denise all the terrible things Harry said, but he supposed he deserved it. If Denise knew all of Harry‘s indiscretions, he needed to tell Olivia before someone else did.

He cleared his throat. She could hate Harry after he spoke his truth. But he had to tell her before someone else did. Since they weren‘t about to do anything else, he supposed there was no time like the present. “Uh, Liv… there’s something…”

A loud voice interrupted his words, Denise shouting a farewell down the stairs. Olivia, not appearing to hear Harry’s words, beamed at him as she draped her leg across his torso and straddled him again.

“Alone at last,” she said, smirking at Harry. “Now…” she stated, taking his hands and placing them on her breasts. “Where were we?”

Harry didn’t answer with words. Instead, he hungrily kissed Olivia in response. His truth would have to wait, again.

~*~*~*~

“I came to move, move, move, move,” Harry sang, grabbing Olivia by the waist and thrusting against her bottom in time with the music. The house was quiet with just them, save for the radio crackling out of the ancient stereo speakers. Once they’d finished what Olivia had started in the bedroom, they forced themselves to get dressed and start on the lasagnes. Harry was already facing an uphill battle with Denise and having her come home to an unprepared meal wouldn’t help his case.

“You need to stir, stir, stir, stir,” Olivia sang back, nodding towards the stove. The ground beef was sizzling away, the uneven chunks a mixture of raw and crispy. She’d only given Harry one job, and even that was proving too much. He seemed to enjoy grabbing at her more than sauteing the beef.

Not that she was complaining.

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry murmured, wrapping his arms around Olivia’s waist and nuzzling against her neck. “Why don’t you do it? You’re the chick, after all. Isn’t it your job? Ow!” he yelped, laughing as Olivia elbowed his stomach.

Olivia dumped a handful of chopped onions in the beef and, despite Harry’s comment, gave the mixture a quick stir. “And speaking of jobs… If you ever want another one, you’ll do as I say,” Olivia reminded him, handing Harry the spoon.

Harry snickered, snatching the spoon. “You’re not the boss of me!” he taunted. “Actually… I suppose when you threaten me with no sex, you sort of are.”

Olivia nodded. “Exactly,” she agreed, leaning her head against Harry’s shoulder as she watched him stab the spoon against the clumps of meat. He pressed a kiss against the top of her head, and she smiled against his arm. “I like doing stupid domestic shit with you,” she told him. She wondered where they would end up doing stupid domestic shit after his tour. Harry had been trying for years to sell his LA house, and while Olivia once loved that house, she thought about the other girls he’d entertained there since her. She wanted a fresh start with him, but she couldn’t ask Harry to spend millions on another house because Taylor Swift made her insecure.

Harry chuckled, kissing Olivia again. “I like doing stupid domestic shit with you, too,” he replied. “It’ll be better when we’re in our own home though, and I don’t have to worry about your dad coming up the stairs while I’ve got my hand on your ass,” he added, cupping Olivia’s bottom for emphasis.

Olivia smiled, taking the spoon from Harry. “Careful, it’ll burn,” she told him, wondering if she should ask what home he was referencing. She didn’t want to bring it up at that moment, but then she reminded herself she and Harry agreed they would keep all their thoughts, emotions and feelings on the table in the open.

“So… what home is that going to be, anyway?” she asked him after a brief pause. “I mean… when your tour’s all done and everything… where are you – where are we going to live?” Olivia let out a short chuckle. She couldn’t believe they hadn’t even discussed where they would live. They had been so quick to get back together, but Olivia realised they still had mountains of issues to sort out.

Harry shrugged. “I mean… LA is the easiest, with work and everything… I have a lot of business there,” he said, almost apologetic as he remembered what happened last time he tried to get Olivia to move to Los Angeles. Did she expect him to stay in Canada? He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to start round two with Olivia with her parents under their noses. Harry was far from a relationship expert, but even he realised the two of them needed their own space, with no distractions or outside influences, to build their relationship and their future.

Olivia nodded. It was the easiest. “And it’s closest to fly home, too,” she mused. She pressed her lips together before sighing, louder than intended.

Harry furrowed his brow. “What’s that big sigh for?” he asked, peering down at Olivia. “You don’t want to go to LA, do you?” he realised, letting out a sigh of his own.

Olivia stopped stirring, shaking her head as she faced Harry. “No, I do!” she promised him. “The weather’s great, it’s closest to home… It’s just…” She trailed off, huffing out another sigh. “I don’t want to live in that house! I’m sorry!” she quickly added. “It’s just… it might be stupid, but I don’t want to be in the same house where you had Taylor and Hailey… I know I’m being dumb, but it feels different now…” She trailed off again, shrugging. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, casting her gaze to the floor. “But it’s just how I feel.”

Harry snickered, nudging Olivia’s chin with his finger. “Honey… you realise I’ve been trying to get rid of that house ever since you left it, right?” he asked. “I don’t want to be in it any more than you do. And for the record,” he added, keeping up with their honesty, “Taylor was never there. Not… after us, anyway,” he corrected with a wince. “I mean, obviously she was there before, but… not after that.” He didn’t bother telling Olivia Hailey had been there. They dated for years, she had to be aware Hailey would have been in his house. But even Harry could sometimes keep his mouth shut.

Olivia rolled her eyes at Harry. “Okay…” she answered. Good. “So… well, what then? You want to be in LA, but not in that house? Do you have another one I don’t know about?” she asked, only half-joking.

“I don’t think so,” Harry kidded back. “I don’t know what my plan was before you snapped me up again. Maybe I would have stayed in New York, London, who knows. But now… I want us to find a place together. Something that’s both of ours, just ours. No Ghosts of Girlfriends Past lingering in the corners,” he added, smirking against Olivia’s lips before she rolled her eyes at him again. She still did.

“Sounds like you might be sort of serious about me,” Olivia teased. She wrapped her arms around Harry’s waist and rested her head on his chest, relieved by his words. It may have been odd others they were contemplating moving in together in a foreign country when they didn’t even have joint cell phone plans, but as Harry and Olivia realised time and time again, others didn’t matter.

~*~*~*~

A few hours later, Harry and Olivia found themselves on the back deck. The sun warmed their skin as they sipped on a local wine and enjoyed the spring breeze. They’d finished the lasagna without too many distractions, and despite what Olivia said, the beef browned to perfection.

It was a wonderful way to spend the afternoon, and almost relaxing for Harry, until he heard a car pulling into the driveway. He jumped as a car door slammed, causing Olivia to laugh.

“Don’t worry,” she promised, despite her own nerves. She hoped her father had talked a modicum of sense and decorum into her mother. She reached over and squeezed Harry’s hand. “They’ll love you as much as I do,” she exaggerated.

Harry snickered. He doubted that. “But not quite in the same way, I hope,” he teased, squeezing Olivia’s hand in response.

Olivia shrugged. “Take what you can get,” she retorted.

It wasn’t long before the patio door slid open. Harry felt his stomach tumble and his nerves almost annoyed him. He’d won over even the toughest of critics in his career. Winning over his girlfriend’s parents should be a breeze – and it would have been, if not for him and his big mouth years prior.

“What a beautiful day for some sundecking!” Denise chirped as she stepped onto the patio, Olivia’s father behind her. Olivia eyed her mother warily. Her tone of voice was too friendly and not condescending enough. Did you get her drunk at lunch, Dad? Olivia thought to herself, rubbing Harry’s back as he stood up to greet her parents.

“Mom, this is Harry,” Olivia stated. “Harry, this is my mom, Denise.”

Harry stuck out his hand. She didn’t seem as scary as Olivia had made her sound. “It’s lovely to meet you, finally,” Harry greeted. She had a warm smile and friendly handshake and he realised maybe Stephanie hadn’t told his secret. He could still get in Denise’s good graces.

“Finally is right!” Denise replied. Olivia listened to her words with an intent ear. Did she hear a slur? She couldn’t be sure. “I see why Olivia’s been keeping you to herself. Tall, dark and handsome… Just my type! Careful, Olivia! He’s quite cute!” Denise laughed, giving Olivia an exaggerated wink.

Okay, she definitely had a glass or two.

“Mother!” Olivia groaned. She didn’t know what was worse – a drunk Denise flirting with Harry or a sober Denise judging him. At least a sober Denise was a predictable bitch. A drunk Denise was fickle and impulsive with no filter on her mouth. She could love Harry and then hate him a moment later. Olivia only hoped the wine kept her mother flirty, not critical.

Denise laughed. “Oh, don’t worry,” she assured Olivia. “I’ll try not to steal your boyfriend…”

Olivia shook her head and gestured for her father to come closer. She placed her thumb against her lips, silently asking Mark if Denise had been drinking. Mark grinned and held up two fingers. Olivia exhaled. Two was Denise’s magic number. She was almost human after two glasses of wine, and Olivia and her sisters often joked they needed to keep their mother two glasses deep, just so she would be somewhat normal. As long as Denise didn’t go overboard with the rosé on the deck, she may be okay.

“Dad, you remember Harry,” Olivia stated, pulling Harry closer to her father. They met once before for just minutes, and Olivia wondered what they had discussed. She never asked him. Neither of them liked talking about that time, but it didn’t lessen her curiosity.

“Nice to see you again, sir,” Harry said, extending his hand to Olivia’s father. He hardly remembered the man from before, but he remembered there had been tears. Harry was glad to not be crying in front of Olivia’s father this time.

“Mark,” Mark corrected. “Sir makes me sound old!” he joked, running his hand through his grey-speckled hair.

Harry grinned. “Mark,” he repeated. He cast a sideways glance at Olivia, a tense half smile on her face. Harry covertly touched her back, comforting her and silently telling her it was okay. Her parents seemed fine. What was she so worried about?

Olivia met Harry’s eyes and smirked. Just you wait, she thought.

~*~*~*~

“Well… it makes me happy you’ll be in LA and not in London,” Denise told Harry and Olivia. “Los Angeles is just a short flight away! We can visit all the time, can’t we?” she added, turning to Mark.

Olivia cast a sideways glance at Harry. “London,” she mouthed, her lips tickling into a smirk. She didn’t expect her parents to visit often though. Olivia wasn’t the favourite child and her parents loathed the American president. So did Olivia, but she loved Harry more.

“Just give plenty of notice,” Olivia instructed. She tried to make her voice light, but there was a tense tone in her words. Despite the laughter and jokes, Olivia was waiting for the shoe to drop. Denise could only be a normal mother for so long.

“It’s too bad Stephanie doesn’t live in California anymore,” Denise continued. “We could see both of our American transplant girls at once!”

Olivia snorted. “Well, I think a country between me and Steph is for the best right now,” she determined. She touched Harry’s knee. “She’s been super unsupportive of Harry and I, and I don’t want to deal with her bullshit,” she said, shrugging.

Harry shifted in his seat, feeling uncomfortable as Olivia mentioned Stephanie’s name. He took a sip of his drink, hoping someone would change the subject. Over the rim of his glass, he caught Denise’s eye. As she stared into Harry’s eyes, he had no doubt she knew. So much for being in her good graces.

“I don’t even know why she hates Harry so much!” Olivia continued. “I mean, she’s the one who pushed for us to get together in the first place! And now, I can’t even talk about Harry without her texting me some puking emoji or some shit!”

“You don’t even know why?” Denise asked, pulling her gaze from Harry and focusing on Olivia. Her eyes darted between them, a stunned expression on her face.

Olivia frowned. “No…” she said, watching Denise look at Harry. “Wait… you know?” she asked, directing her comment to her mother. “Do you?” she asked, her voice filled with disbelief as she looked at Harry. He didn’t meet her eyes and Olivia’s stomach sank. He knew.

Harry nodded, ever so slightly, before looking up at Olivia’s wide eyes. “Yeah,” he admitted. He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation in front of Olivia’s parents. He wanted to jump in front of a bus. Or fall into a hole. Or both.

Showing more correctness than his wife, Mark stood up. “C’mon, Denise,” he urged, tapping her shoulder. “Let’s go get the supper in the oven. Jess and the kids will be here soon.”

Denise let out a disbelieving sigh, shaking her head as she stood up. “I just… I can’t believe Stephanie kept her mouth shut for once! About this!” Denise continued to mumble disbelieving comments as Mark opened the door and led her inside. Once the door closed, Olivia turned to Harry.

“What is going on?” she demanded. “You know something, and my mom knows something, and my sister knows something! And you’ve all kept it from me! What’s going on?” she repeated. “Why does my sister hate you so much? What did you do?” she whispered, realising she didn’t want to find out.

Harry let out a loud sigh, running his hands through his hair. His recollection of that night was fuzzy, but the words he spoke were not. He exhaled again, trying to make sense of his memories and how to tell Olivia the truth without shattering her heart. He didn’t think it was possible.

“Stop sighing and just tell me, Harry,” Olivia urged, her stomach churning. She wanted to assure him it would be fine, they could fix whatever needed fixing and they would get through it. But until she heard the truth, she wasn’t sure if any of that would be possible. She wanted it to be, but she didn’t know how bad it would be.

“Okay…” Harry began. He took and deep breath and reached for Olivia’s hand. “Look, you just have to know I love you, and… I was in a really fucking bad place and I…”

“Just tell me,” Olivia pleaded. She pulled her hand away from him. Harry’s hesitation terrified her.

“Okay…” Harry said again. “Um… okay, so not long after you and I… you left LA, I ended up at a hockey game with… Taylor…” He hated saying her name. He shook his head, trying to rid her name as though written on an Etch-A-Sketch.

“You barely even like hockey,” Olivia retorted with a frown. It upset her to no end that Harry took Taylor to hockey games and public events, but hadn’t done the same with Olivia. She still didn’t understand why someone so private dated someone so public to get over a broken heart, and she didn’t think she ever would. She wondered if Harry even knew why.

Harry shrugged. “I like it enough,” he answered. “But that’s not the point. We went to this game, and I drank loads of beer. I know,” he said before Olivia could. “I don’t like beer either. Point is, I was a fucking wreck after you, and I needed to get pissed up.”

Olivia pursed her lips together. “Okay,” she said, feeling as though Harry blamed her for their break up when it had been mutual. It didn’t mean either one could hurt any more or any less than the other, but it didn’t mean either of them were solely at fault, either. Their break up fucked her up, too, but she didn’t parade her fling for him to see. Granted, she didn’t have a fling or the platform to parade anyone, but even if she did, she wouldn’t have.

She was already mad at him, her tight lips held no secret. He sighed again, hoping he could get through the rest of the story without destroying their relationship. “Anyway… So, we were sitting close to where the wives and family members sit, and Stephanie saw us… me…”

Olivia crossed her arms in a huff. “Why didn’t she tell me she saw you? Did you tell her not to?”

Harry let out a dry chuckle. “Like she’d listen to me even if I had,” he countered. Stephanie was more stubborn than even Olivia was, and a bitch to boot. “I didn’t,” he assured Olivia. “I think… she probably didn’t want to tell you because…” He trailed off, breathing out another breath.

“Because why?” Olivia’s voice was getting louder as he delayed his story. “Jesus Christ, just fucking spit it out!”

“Stop interrupting me and I will!” Harry snapped back. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I just… Fuck, Liv… I never want to hurt you, ever. And you know how fucking shitty everything was, for both of us, after we broke up and I… I said some shit. Bad shit.”

“About me?”

Harry nodded. He stared at his hands, unable to look at Olivia’s face anymore. “Steph came at me and gave me shit for being there with Taylor. For being with Taylor, period. For everything with Taylor being so public and… and how it was destroying you.”

Olivia watched Harry wring his hands. She remembered how she couldn’t even stand in the grocery store check out line for a pack of gum because the tabloids lining the aisles plastered pictures of Harry and Taylor across their covers. Her sisters saw how wrecked she had been. Stephanie saying Harry destroyed Olivia was entirely accurate.

“I, um… I fucking argued back with her, saying you destroyed me,” Harry continued, unintentionally emphasising his words. “We got into it, yelling at each other in the fucking stands. She told me that you dating me was a huge mistake and I… I told her that… dating you was the biggest mistake of my life,” Harry whispered out. He couldn’t look at Olivia.

Olivia’s heart sank. “You did?” she choked out. “You said that?” While Olivia hadn’t said the nicest things about Harry after they broke up, hearing him vocalise his hateful feelings – despite how they may have changed since then – was heartbreaking.

Harry gave a slight nod, his eyes still cast downwards. He didn’t want to tell her anything else. He wanted to end the conversation, apologise profusely for his drunken words years ago and move past it. But he was certain Olivia would contact her sister after this conversation. If Stephanie told Olivia the entire conversation and Harry didn’t, there would be no coming back from it.

“Liv, I only… I need you to remember how messed up I was,” Harry told her, pleading for her understanding. “I didn’t mean it, I never meant it. I just wanted you to… shit, I wanted you to hurt as much as I did.”

Olivia’s lips remained in a thin line. “Is that everything?” she asked, struggling to keep her voice calm. It felt impossible to remain level headed after the love of her life told her he felt she was the biggest mistake of his life.

Harry exhaled. “No,” he admitted. “Stephanie sassed me a bit more and then I just… I fucking lost it.” He looked up at Olivia, wishing she would let him hold her hand. He wanted to assure her he wasn’t that drunk, lost boy any more, that the words he said that night weren’t really him, but he was not sure she would ever believe him.

“What did you…”

“I told her you were dead to me and I never wanted to see you again!” Harry blurted out. He hadn’t intended for the words to come out so abrupt, so harsh. He met Olivia’s eyes, and her expression told him she hadn’t expected his words to be so severe.

Olivia stared at Harry, stunned by his words. She never thought Harry could say such a hurtful, cruel thing about her. If he hadn’t looked so devastated, she wouldn’t have been able to believe he spoke in such a manner about her. “Jesus Christ…” she breathed out. Harry’s head drooped but Olivia continued to stare at him, words escaping her.

“I can’t believe you would say something so… so…” Olivia trailed off, shaking her head. “God, we were both messed up, yeah, but… wow. I don’t even… I…”

“Yeah…” Harry answered, looking up at Olivia. “Honey, you have to… that’s not… I didn’t mean it. I was just…” He sighed again, his words sounding feeble. “I’m sorry…” he tried, shaking his head. His apology sounded even weaker.

Olivia stood up. “I… I think I need a minute,” she told Harry. Her emotions made little sense, and she needed to clear her head. She didn’t want to let his past words ruin them, but his words were so hurtful, and it was hard to wrap her mind around the fact that Harry was the one who spoke them.

“A minute?” Harry looked stunned. “Liv, come on! Let’s just… can’t we talk about this? I mean, it was four years ago! Does it even…”

Olivia held up a finger. “Don’t you dare say it doesn’t matter!” she snapped. “It might have been said four years ago, but it’s brand new to me. Everyone has been lying and keeping shit from me for four years, Harry! Four years! I don’t know what to think right now. So respect that and give me a fucking minute!”

Without waiting for an answer, Olivia turned on her heel and hurried down the stairs before disappearing through the garage. Harry leaned back in his chair, covering his face with his hands. He couldn’t go back and change his past, but God, he wished he could. He never wanted to hurt Olivia, and yet, he felt as though hurting her was becoming the norm for him. That had to change. So, he would give her a minute – just a minute – and then he would make everything right again with her. He had to.

Notes

Comments

@En_1960
Aww thank you so much! I'm glad you loved them!

harambejtrump harambejtrump
6/10/19

These two stories are the best fan fic I have read. Thoroughly enjoyed. Laughed, cried everything throughout. Thank you x

En_1960 En_1960
6/7/19

I love that the big thing wasn’t that big, but to them it was the worst. I told you that though...I can see why he was worried and why she is so hurt by it... that he might have thought that of her and that everyone kept it from her. It sucks but I’m glad it wasn’t some big dramatic thing

Kammy. Kammy.
2/25/19

My babies

Kammy. Kammy.
2/25/19

@morrison_hotel
Thank you my love ♥️♥️♥️

harambejtrump harambejtrump
2/25/19