#shmc

"Because they're shooting some movie in there. Fucking Hollywood. Couldn't they stay in America?" Zara said, her tone letting you know that it was a good thing that they'd only be spending the weekend with you.

"We can come back some other time, besides, just like we had planned at first, we could do this for the whole summer when the children are a bit bigger." Nubia surmised.

She was always looking on the bright side. Opening a smile, you put your arms around the shoulders she was trying to protect against the harsh winds with a thin cashmere shawl, and give her a tight hug.

"Have I mentioned how thankful I am for you lot? And for the fact that you'd drop everything to spend some time with me?" You said, and the other two turned their heads toward you while Nubia touched her forehead to yours.

"You did mention it a couple hundred times." Arie said with a smile. "Have we mentioned that you are worth every second?" She said, her face turning serious.

"Okay, we're not here for sobbing like our babies, so, yes, we love each other very much. Can I go back to bitchin'?" Zara complained, drawing laughter from the three of you.

Dismayed by the lost trip but not disheartened due to the company, you made your way down the castle hill and into a pub to enjoy the local food and beverages.

The late September air was starting to lose its heat and brought cold winds from the Julian Alps, so venturing into as many castles and churches as possible was the idea.

The girls had allowed you the time and space to become one with yourself again, but you knew they wouldn’t allow you to spend too long without any communication. They started slowly, emailing you about the little things going on with their children, in their lives. You started opening up more and more, and the emails became phone calls, and the phone calls became video calls.

By late August you let them in on your plans of traveling around Europe. Slovenia had been on your bucket list for years now and, with vacation time to take, you decided you'd cross that one out. You started the trip alone, spending a week in Poland, taking trains to travel around and truly take in the scenery. After that, you took your time exploring Slovakia, moving on to Hungary, then Croatia. Then, after spending a week in Slovenia, you’d be heading into southern Austria and then into Italy, where you’d be flying back home.

The girls arranged their lives so that they could spend the whole day Friday and Saturday, and Sunday afternoon with you, for which you were deeply grateful. If not for their insistence and persistence, your recovery would have been much more slow going, and they never allowed you to stew.

In the little pub, you ate one of the many hearty dishes you had discovered to be new favorites and planned the following day that was meant to be your last with the girls. 

Though you hid it well, the sadness at losing their proximity again hurt quite a lot.

***

Work had been grueling ever since it began back in February. Henry was looking forward to when they’d be wrapping the whole thing, just a day away.

Reshoots would be done in Britain, and he couldn’t wait to go back home. What was the point of shooting in amazing locations if he couldn’t see them at all? He had heard of lakes, mountains, and caves, but could visit none of them, because he had no free time at all. He didn’t even have time to do the things he needed, let alone things he wanted to do.

These days were all about managing and prioritizing what had to be done, and what 

could be done in measly twenty four hours. He was exhausted and it took a lot just trying not to snap at people. He was grateful for having the best people in his team, who were there on the grind with him, and who were trying just as hard not to let the circumstances take the best of them. But thinking that it was the last night for that to be happening helped him push ahead. 

The last bit of work he’d be doing in the country was some function at the Opera House he had agreed to attend on Sunday night, and he was sure he’d end up nodding off during the presentation. In these moments, he hated being famous.

He had barely started chewing his last forkful of dinner, when somebody was already calling him back to set. 

Work was fun, despite being taxing, and time flies when you’re having fun. So, he hadn’t even noticed it was night time, having spent the whole day shooting on location, when they called ‘cut’ and it was time for the wrap photos and ‘see you at the party next Saturday’ called out to the several crew members.

On the way to the house he had rented, he stopped at a local food truck that made the best bacon cheeseburgers he had eaten in a while. Getting his fingers dirty with meat juices and trying to avoid Kal’s advances, he drove on for his first long night of sleep in more than six months.

He woke up to Kal’s tongue on his cheek.

“Okay, I’m up! Got it Bear! Thank you.” he groaned, sitting up and stretching his arms.

The numbers displayed on his watch surprised him, not only because Kal had been so patient, but also because it had been years since he last woke up after ten am.

The terrible thing about having a day off after going non-stop for so long was that Henry didn’t really know what to do with himself until five pm, when his team would be arriving to help him get ready for the gala later. 

TV was his first choice of distraction, after taking Kal on his needed walk, but he got bored and switched to his favorite author’s latest novel for an hour or so. He couldn’t concentrate like he really wanted, so after a nice bowl of pasta carbonara, he spent a while on his personal social media. 

When he had gone through all the notifications on his phone, he decided to get half an hour of cardio done, and playing with Kal in the garden was fun and got the job done. Noticing that the weather was still pleasant, and the sky would probably be starry that night, he remembered his initial thought upon renting the house and its top selling point: lying down on one of the comfortable outdoor lounging chairs on his deck looking up at the stars. 

Seven o’clock came too soon, and there he was, in another magnificent structure he wouldn’t have the time or the privacy to see. The Opera House was beautiful, and he truly regretted having to pose for photographers with the mayor and whoever else’s hands he had to shake, instead of admiring it. There were so many people that at a point it felt more like a convention meet and greet than a fundraising. 

As entertaining as La Traviata was, he had been good enough to watch the first two acts with real interest but the open boxes on the balcony, where he was sitting, and the not-so-furtive glances people kept stealing at him from time to time kept distracting him from the show. He had a drink during the second intermission and it reminded him how much his body would love to be lounging on those chairs, listening to the opera on Spotify.

He got up, trying to be the least disruptive possible, thanking God most people were too absorbed to notice at that moment, and reaching to the corridor outside the box without a fuss, he sighed deeply. He saw the stern look the usher gave him, and responded with a smile. It was nice not to be recognized sometimes, even if he was met with some hostility.

In the men’s room, where he could still appreciate the music from the speakers above the sinks, he splashed some water on his face. He had to wait for the show to be over to leave with his team, but was really itching to just leave the theater and walk home.

Looking at his tired reflection in the gilded mirror he thought about the way his life was heading. Maybe he should follow Alfredo’s example and the next time he fell for a woman, he’d just say fuck all to the status and other people’s remarks and simply welcome love while it lasted. 

And hope she didn’t die of tuberculosis like Violetta. 

Laughing at his own crazy thoughts as he exited the restroom, aloof from his surroundings, he was still smiling when someone clashed against his arm.

“Damned shoe.” A feminine voice in a velvety burgundy dress exclaimed, her hair covering the view of her face as she looked at said shoe, that had escaped her foot. 

“Allow me to assist.” He said, not really waiting for a reply, and dropping to his knees. 

“Thank you, you truly didn’t have to.” she voiced, apologetically.

“It’s no problem at all.” he replied, fastening the clasp. “It was my pleas…”

His words got stuck in his throat as he looked up upon finishing his good deed of the day, and couldn’t believe his eyes.

***

You looked into the steel blue you thought you’d never see again.

“Henry, hi!” you whispered, breathless.

At a loss for words, he slowly, shakenly, got up.

He whispered your name, as if he didn’t believe you were truly there, and examined you from head to toe.

“Oh, good, you remember.” you joked, trying to loosen your own nerves.

That seemed to snap him out of his surprised trance, and bring his eyes back to yours.

“What are you…? How have you…?” he didn’t seem to decide what exactly he wanted to know first, but asked you these with a radiant smile that warmed your heart a little.

“I’m fine, if that’s what you were going to ask, and I’m on vacation. Traveling around Eastern Europe. I needed a change of scenery, a drastic one.” you said, but your smile couldn’t hide the darker tone your voice took at the very end of your sentence.

“Uh, this doesn’t seem like the place for this conversation.” Henry said, serious, and you nodded. His face denoted knowledge of what you talked about, and you frowned, wishing you could question him further, but he was right. “I’ve seen this opera a few times, have you?”

You were confused at the change of direction, but merely answered.

“I saw it once before. Why?” 

“Shall we go for a walk?” he asked, extending you the crook of his arm.

“Sure.” you replied, putting your gloved hand on his arm and feeling that warmth spread through your whole body. 

After collecting your belongings, you left through the side entrance of the theater, and crossing the street you found yourselves at a park.

“This feels a bit like déjà vu.” you said with a smile.

Neither of you had really said anything that mattered so far, and that made you quite anxious.

“Why do you say that?” he said with his brow furrowed.

“To our right, on that block, there’s a museum with prehistoric, iron age, Roman and Egyptian artifacts, along with a lot of things pertaining to Slovenian heritage. I visited it on Thursday, it was truly nice.” you told him.

“Oh, and you immediately thought of me?” he asked, a mischievous smirk he couldn’t hide, playing on his lips.

“What? No! Well, that’s not…” you spluttered.

“I’m sorry, I’m teasing. Couldn’t help it.” he said, with a grin that brought about your own. “I missed you...r smile.”

Your heart beat a little faster at his slip.

“Last time we met, it felt…” he continued.

“Empty?” you suggested.

You heard him swallow and he squeezed your hand, still on the crook of his arm.

“Clara told me about you.” he said, and silently waited for you to respond.

You had been shocked - and that was an understatement - when she confessed to you, but you didn’t think she would intervene on your behalf after what she did.

“What exactly did she tell you?” you spoke, your voice quite small.

“Everything, I believe.” he declared.

“Oh.” you both remained silent for a few paces, and you stared at your feet as you walked. “Well, it was unexpected and painful seeing him that day.” you stated, quietly.

He kept silent, his hand still on top of yours, lending much needed warmth. No doubt he remembered that awful day as clearly as you.

Every time you thought of Matt, was a time too many. You had a faint sliver of hope that one day, that memory would be just a memory, and it wouldn’t bring the shivers, dry mouth, cold hands and sweats involuntarily with it.

“Things are… better. Now.” you continued. “I’m healing, thanks to my other friends. They actually came and spent some time with me here. They left this afternoon.” your sadness at their departure couldn’t be hidden, and Henry stopped, causing you to stop too and turn to fully face him.

“And now we meet, once again.” he said quietly, his eyes boring into yours. 

In the little light that reached the spot where you were, they were cobalt blue.

“I can’t help but think that, maybe, it is a sign? You know? That we could, perhaps, try again?” he asked, gently squeezing both your hands, and the uncertainty in his tone conveyed the care that he didn’t openly express.

You were grateful.

It wasn’t a demand. Not like it had been with Matt. It was actually a choice, and a choice that he apparently really wanted you to make.

“We could start by having a decent second date. What do you think?” he quickly added with that dazzling smile of his, as your eyes widened slightly in apprehension.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, and smiled back.

“I’d love that.” you replied.

***

You two walked back to the theater discussing the details of your proper date. After helping you into a cab, Henry went back into the theater as the presentation ended and people started to leave.

He was undeniably elated and couldn’t sleep when he got home. He decided to go for a run with a reluctant Kal in the woods nearby his house, taking a hot shower after that. 

He got into bed repeating to himself that he had to sleep and be well rested to meet you that following morning, trying to relax by counting eight seconds to breathe in and eight seconds to breathe out, but soon got lost in thoughts of how beautiful you looked in that dress. The white gloves contrasted well with the burgundy, and the dress was just right to highlight how beautiful you were. Your hair was shining again, there was only a hint of tiredness under your eyes, and your cheeks looked healthy. 

More than anything, the light had returned to your eyes, the eyes that had brought him to his knees, incapable of seeing any other woman. 

When Kal licked his face and he startled awake, noticing how high the sun was in the sky again, your lips were the last memory of the dream he was having and what he fiercely held on to as he made his way to the bathroom and took another shower. 

His bodyguard and driver waited in the SUV, while he went all the way to the door of your airbnb to meet you.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” he said with a huge smile.

“What’s gotten you so chirpy this early?” you asked, faking a frown.

“It’s almost ten thirty. Will you please accompany me to the car? We have a long road ahead of us.” he replied, still smiling like the Cheshire cat.

“Oh, do we? I thought we’d be having brunch.” you questioned, squinting at him suspiciously.

“Haven’t you had breakfast?” he asked, his tone concerned, though a smirk was playing around the corners of his smile.

“I had an apple.” you answered earnestly, not as amused.

“I brought croissants. Freshly made. Does it help?” he asked, putting on an innocent look that melted even his mother’s meanest mood.

“You’re so…” you started, shaking your head.

“Tall? Funny?” he offered, coming closer to you and putting both hands on your waist. “Incredibly attracted to you?”

He said that looking deep into your eyes and, not waiting for a reply, kissed your forehead. It was a good area to kiss, away from your gaze, because he had the feeling he went too far, and giving you a minute away from his eyes to gather your thoughts was the least he could do.

“More like devilishly handsome and annoying.” you said, leaning your head on his chest.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and hugged you closely as he chuckled, leaning his chin on your head.

He felt like his heart could burst. The fact that you had leaned into his embrace, and returned it, meant a level of acceptance he wasn't sure you were ready to give. 

There was nowhere else in the world he’d rather be at that moment, and he felt he could hold you like that forever. Alas, there was a forty-five-minute drive to your destination and he wanted to make the most of the afternoon with you there.

You two talked about anything and everything that hadn’t been covered before during that trip. Henry was happy to see that you had a healthy appetite for buttery baked goods, and that your tastes were more or less in line with his. Not only you two liked similar cuisines, and had come to appreciate the same dishes of the Slovenian cooking, but you liked a lot of the same classic rock bands, shared a taste for some pop artists, but diverged slightly when it came to country music. You disagreed completely about rap and hip hop, and indie and alternative, but he was surprised to know that musicals were also a guilty pleasure of yours.

The more he got to know about you, the more certainty he had that you were quite special.

“How much longer are you planning on staying in Slovenia?” he asked you when you were almost getting there.

“The plan was to leave today actually, and head to Austria. I’d be spending the next two days exploring the delicious compotes and cheeses they make in those tiny farms along the roads, and slowly make my way to Italy, where I’ll be taking my flight home.” you answered.

"Oh." he replied simply.

He thought he'd have as long as he wanted to be with you and it turned out he was on borrowed time already.

"I can always skip Austria. I've been there. It was a matter of revisiting great places with great food. But Slovenia has been providing me with that too." you said calmly, putting him at ease.

"Tell me about your travels. What have you seen?" he asked, leaning closer in his interest to know more about you.

You two talked about places you had seen and places you would like to see; places left unexplored and places you could have experienced better. 

"Oh, is that Bled?" you asked, interrupting something he was saying.

"Yes, it seems to be the highlight of places to see here. I was afraid you had already visited, but apparently…" he said, delighted by your reaction, while you drank in the view of the castle on the cliff from afar and the little island, in the middle of the lake, with the famous pilgrimage church.

"I wanted to come, but I decided to leave it to do with the girls. The girls weren't keen on a forty-five-minute trip, though. They said it would waste too much of the little time we'd have together, and it'd be a hassle." you replied, pensive.

"Great for me, then!" Henry laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

You whipped your head at him with a smile.

Mission accomplished.

***

After a lovely lunch at the castle restaurant, you two explored. You first followed a guide telling you about the history of the castle, since the sixth century, its ever evolving architecture, and the legend of the lake bell. You also toured the winery, trying wines and choosing your favorite, at his request. You filled two bottles, corked it with his help and wax-sealed them.

“One for you, and one for me.” he said, as you exited the area.

You gasped. It hadn’t been cheap.

“I thought… I thought you were buying it for your family or, um, I don’t know…” you babbled.

“This is a memory I’m sharing with you. So, the souvenirs will be just for you and me.” he replied, seriously, his eyebrows raised.

“Souvenirs? Will there be more?” you asked, excitement and apprehension fighting for a prominence in your tone.

“Just one more. It's the one I’m most looking forward to, actually.” he said, with a smile, as his left hand brushed the skin of your forearm and pulse, then into your hand, until his fingers lined with yours for a second, and then entwined.

You let go a ragged breath, very aware of the goosebumps and the fiery trail that his fingers left on the skin of your arm.

It was done so casually, as if he had done that a thousand times before. You stole a glance at him and he was looking at you, his lips softly curled upwards.

What wouldn’t you give to know what he was thinking.

You kept walking for a couple more minutes until you reached the castle forge. The heat and noise of hot iron being hammered on anvil hit you before you actually saw anyone working.

The forged items displayed were so beautiful, you felt like buying them all.

“Uh uh,” Henry said, turning you around by the waist to face him. “They’re all very beautiful, yes, but right now I need you to concentrate. Is there a short quote, or a proverb, a saying or something, that speaks to you?” he asked you with a frown.

“Oh, uh…” you started, but he interrupted you.

“There’s a queue, so you have time to think.” he hurriedly said. “I thought we could give each other words we find beautiful, or motivate us.” he explained.

“Oh, I know the perfect words.” you stated simply after a while, opening a smile and leaving him in a clear state of pure curiosity.

“And you’re not telling me?” he half stated, half asked.

“Nope.” you said with a grin.

“Alright, alright. Keep your secrets. I can wait a few more minutes.” he said and chuckled.

“How can they make it so fast for these people, if everyone gets their own version?” you asked, and it was your turn to frown.

“Actually, these people get to make their coins, but the only thing on them is the symbol of the castle and the date they visited. Ours will be a little more special.” he said and winked at you.

“Special how?” you whispered.

“Well, I asked someone on my team to call ahead. They were quite happy to hear me out. I have a coin making tradition for every production I work on, and we arranged a little something. But don’t tell anyone, okay?” he confided, in a hushed tone.

You nodded.

“So this morning, when I called personally, very early,” he continued, shaking his head, “they were kind enough to allow this little exception, and on such short notice.”

It was your turn then, and you noticed that the doors had been closed and no other visitors were around. The blacksmiths explained all the process to the both of you, and despite being quite hard work and taking quite a while, you managed to make a coin for Henry. 

Dark green velvet pouches were provided and you were very happy with the result.

You offered him the coin you had made for him, but he said that the date was not over yet. That he would rain in his curiosity, and that you’d definitely have your gift before he said goodnight to you.

The thought of him saying goodnight to you brought the butterflies back. That morning when he had kissed your forehead, your stomach had flipped in a way you hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

A short car ride led you to the lake where you took the traditional wooden boat to the church. The man on the boat told you you were right to come in October, for the tourists crowded the area until September. Indeed there were very few people who had been brave enough to face the glacial lake and the cold coming from the Alps.

From the distance you could see the long and steep stairs leading up to the church. As you set foot on the steps, Henry insisted you two take a few more photos. 

You had lost count of how many he had already taken of the castle, of you against the beautiful view, of you, just because, of the both of you. His eye for photography was amazing and you made him promise to send some of those to you.

After the long walk up the stairs to the church - you both kept stopping every few meters and admiring the view -, you two followed a guide once more, but your attention was elsewhere. You couldn’t help but gape at the beauty inside. The magnificent golden altar, the details all around, the icons, the chandeliers, the organ.

“It’s so beautiful!” you wondered in a whisper.

His hand was again holding yours and you found him looking at you, when your head finally turned to look at him.

“Yes, it’s quite the sight.” he said, and sighed, looking straight into your eyes. “Shall we make a wish?” he asked, looking back to the altar, where a few people had just left in tears.

“What do you mean 'make a wish’?” you asked, frowning in puzzlement.

“Well, didn’t you hear the guide? If we stand on the ruins, there, see?” he pointed to the floor where glass panels allowed you to see the ruins of the previous churches and pagan temples. “You see the rope?” You nodded. “Well, we have to remember the widow who prayed here everyday, remember, the one from the castle, with a dodgy character?” he laughed, and you nodded, smiling.

“So we pull the rope to make a wish? I’m sorry, I wasn't paying attention, there’s just so much to take in!”

“I understand.” he said, with a chuckle. “We have to pull the rope three times. Shall we do it together?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“But then, will both our wishes come true?” you asked, quirking one of yours.

“Good question.” he said, and looked down in thought.

“Well, we can always risk it.” his eyes snapped back to yours when you spoke.

You were face to face with the rope in between you, and his smile was radiant. He was having the time of his life.

“Who knows, maybe we end up wishing for the same thing.” you said, quietly, but he heard you.

“Make your wish.” he said.

His eyes never left yours. He put his hands on top of yours where you held the rope.

“Ready.” you said.

“Me too.” he replied.

And you pulled the rope.

It was a good thing that he was there to help you, because it was very heavy to pull. Once you got the hang of it, the second and the third were easier.

The chimes echoed through the church and the few people left in it looked back to the both of you.

You made your way out of the church but before you left, the guide pulled you aside while Henry watched, already almost by the steps.

“In case you need a future reference.” he said with a smile, in a thick accent.

When you looked at the pamphlet in your hands, it showed weddings in the island church, and how to book them.

It was a miracle that Henry did not ask anything about the embarrassment you knew couldn’t have hidden well in the short amount of time it took to reach him. He actually did not say much during the entire trip back to the city. You were tired, and there was just so much to think about.

“We’re here.” he said quietly. Probably trying not to startle you.

“Where’s here exactly?” you asked in the same hushed tone.

The resounding barks answered your question.

You walked the path to his door, hand in hand, and he stopped in front of you before opening it.

“Yeah, that’s Kal. He’ll jump. Do you have a problem with that?” he said with a wince.

“I’ve been tackled by him before. I guess I can take it.” you said with a smile and a wink.

“True. I’ll go first though, then he won’t be as excited when he tries to tackle you again.”

You both chuckled at that and, after waving at the men waiting by the gate, he took all of the bags of souvenirs from your hands, adding to the ones he had in his, and opened the door.

Just as promised, Kal almost tackled him to the floor, but soon realized there was novelty in the house, and came straight for you. You were smarter this time, already kneeling and petting him pretty much everywhere as he wouldn’t stand still.

***

Dinner was nice once Kal allowed you two to do anything. The restaurant was timely as usual, and the food was amazing.

You made him swear not to open the bottle you had bought at the castle because it should be opened only for a special occasion.

“Love, to me this is a very special occasion.” he said, looking into your eyes.

You were speechless at that, and he wondered if it all had been too much. 

Whisking you away like that, the lingering stares, holding your hand. All day long he had been so nervous about how you’d take the whole idea, and holding your hand grounded and calmed him.

You never protested it, but he didn’t really read a warm welcome from you. It was as if you wanted it, but didn’t at the same time.

After you both put away the dishes, despite his insistence that you didn’t have to do any of that, he took you to the deck overlooking the garden, where he was finally able to sit back, relax and look at the stars. Having you by his side was a bonus he was delighted to have earned.

He brought the coins for you to exchange and put them next to your wine glasses.

“So, Mr. Cavill let’s see what memorable words you’ve gifted me.” you said to him, with a mischievous grin.

He let you see your coin first.

“Life before Death. Strength before Weakness. Journey before Destination.” you read aloud, and looked at him with wide eyes.

“It’s from a book I love, and these are words I live by. I wanted to share them with you.” he said, gauging your reaction. 

He was showing his most nerdy side, and in hindsight, that wasn’t the best way to impress a woman.

“They’re very wise words to live by. I loved it. What’s the symbol?” you asked, intrigued by the intricate crest.

“Well, I figured, since you get my motto, you might as well get my crest. That’s my family crest.” blushing, he smiled at your quick intake of breath. “See, like my ring.”

“I’m…” you paused and swallowed, looking from him to the coin and back at him again, apparently trying to find the right word. “I’m honored Henry. Truly.”

He nodded, and averted his eyes from your scrutiny, taking a sip from his wine.

“Now it’s my turn!” he said, putting his glass down and lightening the mood.

“Well, I hope you like it.” you said, and it was your turn to be shy.

“Oh, that’s unfair, mine was in English!” he exclaimed as he examined his coin, laughing.

You laughed along, shaking your head.

“It means ‘In darkness, light.’” you said, your laughter turning into a small smile. “It is my motto.”

He nodded.

“Thank you.” he said solemnly, watching you lounge back on the chair admiring your coin.

He reclined as well, running his thumb over the engraved words.

“Stay.” he said quietly, after you both had remained in silence for a while.

“What was that?” you asked, turning your head to look at him.

“Stay. In Slovenia, I mean.” He repeated. “If your flight is non-refundable, I’ll pay for your flight back, but stay. Please.”

He wondered if this was the last straw, if he had finally pushed you too far and it would end before it had the chance to begin. Again.

“Henry, I…” you started, but stopped mid-sentence.

“Please. I want to give us a try.” he said, as he sat up, leaning closer to you, but trying not to invade your space.

You sat up too, and sighed deeply.

“You, uh… are you sure?” you asked and bit your lip; the fear in your voice was something he never thought he’d hear directed at him.

“I am. I am sure that I want to be with you. I am sure that I’ve already fallen for you.” you gasped at his confession, but in for a penny, in for a pound.

He couldn’t really read you, you hid your feelings a little too well when it came to your heart.

“Say something, please.” he pleaded, with a small smile.

You scooted forward until you were very close to him.

Your hands, warmer than his because of the blanket he had wrapped you in, closed around his and squeezed lightly.

He looked at your joined hands, thinking of the silky skin he had had the privilege to touch throughout the day. Were you going to let him down gently?

One of your hands untangled from his to place a featherlight touch to his cheek, brushing slowly down to his chin, and lift his head and his gaze toward yours.

“I want to give us a try, too.” you whispered. “I trust you.”

Your whispered words gave his heart a start, but you didn’t give him much time to recover sealing your lips over his.

It was everything and nothing like he had dreamed about.

The softness and power contrasted starkly, vying for his attention while those lips molded around his own, caressing and dragging, making him forget to breathe.

He could taste the wine on your lips, and the touch of your tongue on his sent shivers up and down his spine. 

It had been so long since anyone had made him feel anything remotely close to this.

Your tongues danced in synchronized movements and, at some point, teeth were invited to play as well.  

He didn’t know how long you two kissed for, time did not seem to matter anymore.

When you finally came up for air, he continued kissing the corners of your mouth. He couldn’t stop, you were like a balm for his sore soul that he didn’t know he needed.

He chuckled and you frowned.

“What?” you said, apprehensive.

“No, nothing. Just…” he didn’t finish, and he could tell this was not going well.

“Just what?” you asked, pulling away to look at him.

"Kissing you. It satisfied my curiosity." he said calmly with a smile.

You frowned.

"Didn't satisfy mine." you said seriously, still frowning.

An awkward silence descended over you two. The look on your face told him you probably misunderstood, the hurt evident in the downward curve of your lips. 

"Wait, what do you think I meant by that?" he was wrecking his brains trying to figure out how exactly you could have misinterpreted what he said.

"I don't know, what exactly did you mean?" you replied, and he was right about you being hurt.

"I meant that I’ve been dreaming of what kissing you felt like. Now I know. What did you mean?" he earnestly confessed, all humor gone.

Staring deeply into his eyes, you said nothing for a while. Then you let out a deep sigh. 

"I meant I could keep kissing you all night." you finally said, your tone slightly dreamy.

He opened a smile, as your words put him at ease.

“I’ll see what I can do about that.” he said, and grazed the skin of your neck with his hand until he was cradling your head on one side. You leaned into his touch, warming him inside.

“So, you’re staying?” he half asked, needing to be sure.

“Yes. I’m staying.” you replied, putting your hands on both sides of his face and kissing him again.

Henry thought about the way you said that.

Yes. 

“Have I mentioned how thankful I am for you lot? And for the fact that you’d drop everything to spend some time with me?” You said, and the other two turned their heads toward you while Nubia touched her forehead to yours.

“You did mention it a couple hundred times.” Arie said with a smile. “Have we mentioned that you are worth every second?” She said, her face turning serious.

“Okay, we’re not here for sobbing like our babies, so, yes, we love each other very much. Can I go back to bitchin’?” Zara complained, drawing laughter from the three of you.

Dismayed by the lost trip but not disheartened due to the company, you made your way down the castle hill and into a pub to enjoy the local food and beverages.

The late September air was starting to lose its heat and brought cold winds from the Julian Alps, so venturing into as many castles and churches as possible was the idea.

The girls had allowed you the time and space to become one with yourself again, but you knew they wouldn’t allow you to spend too long without any communication. They started slowly, emailing you about the little things going on with their children, in their lives. You started opening up more and more, and the emails became phone calls, and the phone calls became video calls.

By late August you let them in on your plans of traveling around Europe. Slovenia had been on your bucket list for years now and, with vacation time to take, you decided you’d cross that one out. You started the trip alone, spending a week in Poland, taking trains to travel around and truly take in the scenery. After that, you took your time exploring Slovakia, moving on to Hungary, then Croatia. Then, after spending a week in Slovenia, you’d be heading into southern Austria and then into Italy, where you’d be flying back home.

The girls arranged their lives so that they could spend the whole day Friday and Saturday, and Sunday afternoon with you, for which you were deeply grateful. If not for their insistence and persistence, your recovery would have been much more slow going, and they never allowed you to stew.

In the little pub, you ate one of the many hearty dishes you had discovered to be new favorites and planned the following day that was meant to be your last with the girls.

Though you hid it well, the sadness at losing their proximity again hurt quite a lot.

***

Work had been grueling ever since it began back in February. Henry was looking forward to when they’d be wrapping the whole thing, just a day away.

Reshoots would be done in Britain, and he couldn’t wait to go back home. What was the point of shooting in amazing locations if he couldn’t see them at all? He had heard of lakes, mountains, and caves, but could visit none of them, because he had no free time at all. He didn’t even have time to do the things he needed, let alone things he wanted to do.

These days were all about managing and prioritizing what had to be done, and what

could be done in measly twenty four hours. He was exhausted and it took a lot just trying not to snap at people. He was grateful for having the best people in his team, who were there on the grind with him, and who were trying just as hard not to let the circumstances take the best of them. But thinking that it was the last night for that to be happening helped him push ahead.

The last bit of work he’d be doing in the country was some function at the Opera House he had agreed to attend on Sunday night, and he was sure he’d end up nodding off during the presentation. In these moments, he hated being famous.

He had barely started chewing his last forkful of dinner, when somebody was already calling him back to set.

Work was fun, despite being taxing, and time flies when you’re having fun. So, he hadn’t even noticed it was night time, having spent the whole day shooting on location, when they called ‘cut’ and it was time for the wrap photos and ‘see you at the party next Saturday’ called out to the several crew members.

On the way to the house he had rented, he stopped at a local food truck that made the best bacon cheeseburgers he had eaten in a while. Getting his fingers dirty with meat juices and trying to avoid Kal’s advances, he drove on for his first long night of sleep in more than six months.

He woke up to Kal’s tongue on his cheek.

“Okay, I’m up! Got it Bear! Thank you.” he groaned, sitting up and stretching his arms.

The numbers displayed on his watch surprised him, not only because Kal had been so patient, but also because it had been years since he last woke up after ten am.

The terrible thing about having a day off after going non-stop for so long was that Henry didn’t really know what to do with himself until five pm, when his team would be arriving to help him get ready for the gala later.

TV was his first choice of distraction, after taking Kal on his needed walk, but he got bored and switched to his favorite author’s latest novel for an hour or so. He couldn’t concentrate like he really wanted, so after a nice bowl of pasta carbonara, he spent a while on his personal social media.

When he had gone through all the notifications on his phone, he decided to get half an hour of cardio done, and playing with Kal in the garden was fun and got the job done. Noticing that the weather was still pleasant, and the sky would probably be starry that night, he remembered his initial thought upon renting the house and its top selling point: lying down on one of the comfortable outdoor lounging chairs on his deck looking up at the stars.

Seven o’clock came too soon, and there he was, in another magnificent structure he wouldn’t have the time or the privacy to see. The Opera House was beautiful, and he truly regretted having to pose for photographers with the mayor and whoever else’s hands he had to shake, instead of admiring it. There were so many people that at a point it felt more like a convention meet and greet than a fundraising.

As entertaining as La Traviata was, he had been good enough to watch the first two acts with real interest but the open boxes on the balcony, where he was sitting, and the not-so-furtive glances people kept stealing at him from time to time kept distracting him from the show. He had a drink during the second intermission and it reminded him how much his body would love to be lounging on those chairs, listening to the opera on Spotify.

He got up, trying to be the least disruptive possible, thanking God most people were too absorbed to notice at that moment, and reaching to the corridor outside the box without a fuss, he sighed deeply. He saw the stern look the usher gave him, and responded with a smile. It was nice not to be recognized sometimes, even if he was met with some hostility.

In the men’s room, where he could still appreciate the music from the speakers above the sinks, he splashed some water on his face. He had to wait for the show to be over to leave with his team, but was really itching to just leave the theater and walk home.

Looking at his tired reflection in the gilded mirror he thought about the way his life was heading. Maybe he should follow Alfredo’s example and the next time he fell for a woman, he’d just say fuck all to the status and other people’s remarks and simply welcome love while it lasted.

And hope she didn’t die of tuberculosis like Violetta.

Laughing at his own crazy thoughts as he exited the restroom, aloof from his surroundings, he was still smiling when someone clashed against his arm.

“Damned shoe.” A feminine voice in a velvety burgundy dress exclaimed, her hair covering the view of her face as she looked at said shoe, that had escaped her foot.

“Allow me to assist.” He said, not really waiting for a reply, and dropping to his knees.

“Thank you, you truly didn’t have to.” she voiced, apologetically.

“It’s no problem at all.” he replied, fastening the clasp. “It was my pleas…”

His words got stuck in his throat as he looked up upon finishing his good deed of the day, and couldn’t believe his eyes.

***

You looked into the steel blue you thought you’d never see again.

“Henry, hi!” you whispered, breathless.

At a loss for words, he slowly, shakenly, got up.

He whispered your name, as if he didn’t believe you were truly there, and examined you from head to toe.

“Oh, good, you remember.” you joked, trying to loosen your own nerves.

That seemed to snap him out of his surprised trance, and bring his eyes back to yours.

“What are you…? How have you…?” he didn’t seem to decide what exactly he wanted to know first, but asked you these with a radiant smile that warmed your heart a little.

“I’m fine, if that’s what you were going to ask, and I’m on vacation. Traveling around Eastern Europe. I needed a change of scenery, a drastic one.” you said, but your smile couldn’t hide the darker tone your voice took at the very end of your sentence.

“Uh, this doesn’t seem like the place for this conversation.” Henry said, serious, and you nodded. His face denoted knowledge of what you talked about, and you frowned, wishing you could question him further, but he was right. “I’ve seen this opera a few times, have you?”

You were confused at the change of direction, but merely answered.

“I saw it once before. Why?”

“Shall we go for a walk?” he asked, extending you the crook of his arm.

“Sure.” you replied, putting your gloved hand on his arm and feeling that warmth spread through your whole body.

After collecting your belongings, you left through the side entrance of the theater, and crossing the street you found yourselves at a park.

“This feels a bit like déjà vu.” you said with a smile.

Neither of you had really said anything that mattered so far, and that made you quite anxious.

“Why do you say that?” he said with his brow furrowed.

“To our right, on that block, there’s a museum with prehistoric, iron age, Roman and Egyptian artifacts, along with a lot of things pertaining to Slovenian heritage. I visited it on Thursday, it was truly nice.” you told him.

“Oh, and you immediately thought of me?” he asked, a mischievous smirk he couldn’t hide, playing on his lips.

“What? No! Well, that’s not…” you spluttered.

“I’m sorry, I’m teasing. Couldn’t help it.” he said, with a grin that brought about your own. “I missed you…r smile.”

Your heart beat a little faster at his slip.

“Last time we met, it felt…” he continued.

“Empty?” you suggested.

You heard him swallow and he squeezed your hand, still on the crook of his arm.

“Clara told me about you.” he said, and silently waited for you to respond.

You had been shocked - and that was an understatement - when she confessed to you, but you didn’t think she would intervene on your behalf after what she did.

“What exactly did she tell you?” you spoke, your voice quite small.

“Everything, I believe.” he declared.

“Oh.” you both remained silent for a few paces, and you stared at your feet as you walked. “Well, it was unexpected and painful seeing him that day.” you stated, quietly.

He kept silent, his hand still on top of yours, lending much needed warmth. No doubt he remembered that awful day as clearly as you.

Every time you thought of Matt, was a time too many. You had a faint sliver of hope that one day, that memory would be just a memory, and it wouldn’t bring the shivers, dry mouth, cold hands and sweats involuntarily with it.

“Things are… better. Now.” you continued. “I’m healing, thanks to my other friends. They actually came and spent some time with me here. They left this afternoon.” your sadness at their departure couldn’t be hidden, and Henry stopped, causing you to stop too and turn to fully face him.

“And now we meet, once again.” he said quietly, his eyes boring into yours.

In the little light that reached the spot where you were, they were cobalt blue.

“I can’t help but think that, maybe, it is a sign? You know? That we could, perhaps, try again?” he asked, gently squeezing both your hands, and the uncertainty in his tone conveyed the care that he didn’t openly express.

You were grateful.

It wasn’t a demand. Not like it had been with Matt. It was actually a choice, and a choice that he apparently really wanted you to make.

“We could start by having a decent second date. What do you think?” he quickly added with that dazzling smile of his, as your eyes widened slightly in apprehension.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, and smiled back.

“I’d love that.” you replied.

***

You two walked back to the theater discussing the details of your proper date. After helping you into a cab, Henry went back into the theater as the presentation ended and people started to leave.

He was undeniably elated and couldn’t sleep when he got home. He decided to go for a run with a reluctant Kal in the woods nearby his house, taking a hot shower after that.

He got into bed repeating to himself that he had to sleep and be well rested to meet you that following morning, trying to relax by counting eight seconds to breathe in and eight seconds to breathe out, but soon got lost in thoughts of how beautiful you looked in that dress. The white gloves contrasted well with the burgundy, and the dress was just right to highlight how beautiful you were. Your hair was shining again, there was only a hint of tiredness under your eyes, and your cheeks looked healthy.

More than anything, the light had returned to your eyes, the eyes that had brought him to his knees, incapable of seeing any other woman.

When Kal licked his face and he startled awake, noticing how high the sun was in the sky again, your lips were the last memory of the dream he was having and what he fiercely held on to as he made his way to the bathroom and took another shower.

His bodyguard and driver waited in the SUV, while he went all the way to the door of your airbnb to meet you.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” he said with a huge smile.

“What’s gotten you so chirpy this early?” you asked, faking a frown.

“It’s almost ten thirty. Will you please accompany me to the car? We have a long road ahead of us.” he replied, still smiling like the Cheshire cat.

“Oh, do we? I thought we’d be having brunch.” you questioned, squinting at him suspiciously.

“Haven’t you had breakfast?” he asked, his tone concerned, though a smirk was playing around the corners of his smile.

“I had an apple.” you answered earnestly, not as amused.

“I brought croissants. Freshly made. Does it help?” he asked, putting on an innocent look that melted even his mother’s meanest mood.

“You’re so…” you started, shaking your head.

“Tall? Funny?” he offered, coming closer to you and putting both hands on your waist. “Incredibly attracted to you?”

He said that looking deep into your eyes and, not waiting for a reply, kissed your forehead. It was a good area to kiss, away from your gaze, because he had the feeling he went too far, and giving you a minute away from his eyes to gather your thoughts was the least he could do.

“More like devilishly handsome and annoying.” you said, leaning your head on his chest.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and hugged you closely as he chuckled, leaning his chin on your head.

He felt like his heart could burst. The fact that you had leaned into his embrace, and returned it, meant a level of acceptance he wasn’t sure you were ready to give.

There was nowhere else in the world he’d rather be at that moment, and he felt he could hold you like that forever. Alas, there was a forty-five-minute drive to your destination and he wanted to make the most of the afternoon with you there.

You two talked about anything and everything that hadn’t been covered before during that trip. Henry was happy to see that you had a healthy appetite for buttery baked goods, and that your tastes were more or less in line with his. Not only you two liked similar cuisines, and had come to appreciate the same dishes of the Slovenian cooking, but you liked a lot of the same classic rock bands, shared a taste for some pop artists, but diverged slightly when it came to country music. You disagreed completely about rap and hip hop, and indie and alternative, but he was surprised to know that musicals were also a guilty pleasure of yours.

The more he got to know about you, the more certainty he had that you were quite special.

“How much longer are you planning on staying in Slovenia?” he asked you when you were almost getting there.

“The plan was to leave today actually, and head to Austria. I’d be spending the next two days exploring the delicious compotes and cheeses they make in those tiny farms along the roads, and slowly make my way to Italy, where I’ll be taking my flight home.” you answered.

“Oh.” he replied simply.

He thought he’d have as long as he wanted to be with you and it turned out he was on borrowed time already.

“I can always skip Austria. I’ve been there. It was a matter of revisiting great places with great food. But Slovenia has been providing me with that too.” you said calmly, putting him at ease.

“Tell me about your travels. What have you seen?” he asked, leaning closer in his interest to know more about you.

You two talked about places you had seen and places you would like to see; places left unexplored and places you could have experienced better.

“Oh, is that Bled?” you asked, interrupting something he was saying.

“Yes, it seems to be the highlight of places to see here. I was afraid you had already visited, but apparently…” he said, delighted by your reaction, while you drank in the view of the castle on the cliff from afar and the little island, in the middle of the lake, with the famous pilgrimage church.

“I wanted to come, but I decided to leave it to do with the girls. The girls weren’t keen on a forty-five-minute trip, though. They said it would waste too much of the little time we’d have together, and it’d be a hassle.” you replied, pensive.

“Great for me, then!” Henry laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

You whipped your head at him with a smile.

Mission accomplished.

***

After a lovely lunch at the castle restaurant, you two explored. You first followed a guide telling you about the history of the castle, since the sixth century, its ever evolving architecture, and the legend of the lake bell. You also toured the winery, trying wines and choosing your favorite, at his request. You filled two bottles, corked it with his help and wax-sealed them.

“One for you, and one for me.” he said, as you exited the area.

You gasped. It hadn’t been cheap.

“I thought… I thought you were buying it for your family or, um, I don’t know…” you babbled.

“This is a memory I’m sharing with you. So, the souvenirs will be just for you and me.” he replied, seriously, his eyebrows raised.

“Souvenirs? Will there be more?” you asked, excitement and apprehension fighting for a prominence in your tone.

“Just one more. It’s the one I’m most looking forward to, actually.” he said, with a smile, as his left hand brushed the skin of your forearm and pulse, then into your hand, until his fingers lined with yours for a second, and then entwined.

You let go a ragged breath, very aware of the goosebumps and the fiery trail that his fingers left on the skin of your arm.

It was done so casually, as if he had done that a thousand times before. You stole a glance at him and he was looking at you, his lips softly curled upwards.

What wouldn’t you give to know what he was thinking.

You kept walking for a couple more minutes until you reached the castle forge. The heat and noise of hot iron being hammered on anvil hit you before you actually saw anyone working.

The forged items displayed were so beautiful, you felt like buying them all.

“Uh uh,” Henry said, turning you around by the waist to face him. “They’re all very beautiful, yes, but right now I need you to concentrate. Is there a short quote, or a proverb, a saying or something, that speaks to you?” he asked you with a frown.

“Oh, uh…” you started, but he interrupted you.

“There’s a queue, so you have time to think.” he hurriedly said. “I thought we could give each other words we find beautiful, or motivate us.” he explained.

“Oh, I know the perfect words.” you stated simply after a while, opening a smile and leaving him in a clear state of pure curiosity.

“And you’re not telling me?” he half stated, half asked.

“Nope.” you said with a grin.

“Alright, alright. Keep your secrets. I can wait a few more minutes.” he said and chuckled.

“How can they make it so fast for these people, if everyone gets their own version?” you asked, and it was your turn to frown.

“Actually, these people get to make their coins, but the only thing on them is the symbol of the castle and the date they visited. Ours will be a little more special.” he said and winked at you.

“Special how?” you whispered.

“Well, I asked someone on my team to call ahead. They were quite happy to hear me out. I have a coin making tradition for every production I work on, and we arranged a little something. But don’t tell anyone, okay?” he confided, in a hushed tone.

You nodded.

“So this morning, when I called personally, very early,” he continued, shaking his head, “they were kind enough to allow this little exception, and on such short notice.”

It was your turn then, and you noticed that the doors had been closed and no other visitors were around. The blacksmiths explained all the process to the both of you, and despite being quite hard work and taking quite a while, you managed to make a coin for Henry.

Dark green velvet pouches were provided and you were very happy with the result.

You offered him the coin you had made for him, but he said that the date was not over yet. That he would rain in his curiosity, and that you’d definitely have your gift before he said goodnight to you.

The thought of him saying goodnight to you brought the butterflies back. That morning when he had kissed your forehead, your stomach had flipped in a way you hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

A short car ride led you to the lake where you took the traditional wooden boat to the church. The man on the boat told you you were right to come in October, for the tourists crowded the area until September. Indeed there were very few people who had been brave enough to face the glacial lake and the cold coming from the Alps.

From the distance you could see the long and steep stairs leading up to the church. As you set foot on the steps, Henry insisted you two take a few more photos.

You had lost count of how many he had already taken of the castle, of you against the beautiful view, of you, just because, of the both of you. His eye for photography was amazing and you made him promise to send some of those to you.

After the long walk up the stairs to the church - you both kept stopping every few meters and admiring the view -, you two followed a guide once more, but your attention was elsewhere. You couldn’t help but gape at the beauty inside. The magnificent golden altar, the details all around, the icons, the chandeliers, the organ.

“It’s so beautiful!” you wondered in a whisper.

His hand was again holding yours and you found him looking at you, when your head finally turned to look at him.

“Yes, it’s quite the sight.” he said, and sighed, looking straight into your eyes. “Shall we make a wish?” he asked, looking back to the altar, where a few people had just left in tears.

“What do you mean ‘make a wish’?” you asked, frowning in puzzlement.

“Well, didn’t you hear the guide? If we stand on the ruins, there, see?” he pointed to the floor where glass panels allowed you to see the ruins of the previous churches and pagan temples. “You see the rope?” You nodded. “Well, we have to remember the widow who prayed here everyday, remember, the one from the castle, with a dodgy character?” he laughed, and you nodded, smiling.

“So we pull the rope to make a wish? I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention, there’s just so much to take in!”

“I understand.” he said, with a chuckle. “We have to pull the rope three times. Shall we do it together?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“But then, will both our wishes come true?” you asked, quirking one of yours.

“Good question.” he said, and looked down in thought.

“Well, we can always risk it.” his eyes snapped back to yours when you spoke.

You were face to face with the rope in between you, and his smile was radiant. He was having the time of his life.

“Who knows, maybe we end up wishing for the same thing.” you said, quietly, but he heard you.

“Make your wish.” he said.

His eyes never left yours. He put his hands on top of yours where you held the rope.

“Ready.” you said.

“Me too.” he replied.

And you pulled the rope.

It was a good thing that he was there to help you, because it was very heavy to pull. Once you got the hang of it, the second and the third were easier.

The chimes echoed through the church and the few people left in it looked back to the both of you.

You made your way out of the church but before you left, the guide pulled you aside while Henry watched, already almost by the steps.

“In case you need a future reference.” he said with a smile, in a thick accent.

When you looked at the pamphlet in your hands, it showed weddings in the island church, and how to book them.

It was a miracle that Henry did not ask anything about the embarrassment you knew couldn’t have hidden well in the short amount of time it took to reach him. He actually did not say much during the entire trip back to the city. You were tired, and there was just so much to think about.

“We’re here.” he said quietly. Probably trying not to startle you.

“Where’s here exactly?” you asked in the same hushed tone.

The resounding barks answered your question.

You walked the path to his door, hand in hand, and he stopped in front of you before opening it.

“Yeah, that’s Kal. He’ll jump. Do you have a problem with that?” he said with a wince.

“I’ve been tackled by him before. I guess I can take it.” you said with a smile and a wink.

“True. I’ll go first though, then he won’t be as excited when he tries to tackle you again.”

You both chuckled at that and, after waving at the men waiting by the gate, he took all of the bags of souvenirs from your hands, adding to the ones he had in his, and opened the door.

Just as promised, Kal almost tackled him to the floor, but soon realized there was novelty in the house, and came straight for you. You were smarter this time, already kneeling and petting him pretty much everywhere as he wouldn’t stand still.

***

Dinner was nice once Kal allowed you two to do anything. The restaurant was timely as usual, and the food was amazing.

You made him swear not to open the bottle you had bought at the castle because it should be opened only for a special occasion.

“Love, to me this is a very special occasion.” he said, looking into your eyes.

You were speechless at that, and he wondered if it all had been too much.

Whisking you away like that, the lingering stares, holding your hand. All day long he had been so nervous about how you’d take the whole idea, and holding your hand grounded and calmed him.

You never protested it, but he didn’t really read a warm welcome from you. It was as if you wanted it, but didn’t at the same time.

After you both put away the dishes, despite his insistence that you didn’t have to do any of that, he took you to the deck overlooking the garden, where he was finally able to sit back, relax and look at the stars. Having you by his side was a bonus he was delighted to have earned.

He brought the coins for you to exchange and put them next to your wine glasses.

“So, Mr. Cavill let’s see what memorable words you’ve gifted me.” you said to him, with a mischievous grin.

He let you see your coin first.

“Life before Death. Strength before Weakness. Journey before Destination.” you read aloud, and looked at him with wide eyes.

“It’s from a book I love, and these are words I live by. I wanted to share them with you.” he said, gauging your reaction.

He was showing his most nerdy side, and in hindsight, that wasn’t the best way to impress a woman.

“They’re very wise words to live by. I loved it. What’s the symbol?” you asked, intrigued by the intricate crest.

“Well, I figured, since you get my motto, you might as well get my crest. That’s my family crest.” blushing, he smiled at your quick intake of breath. “See, like my ring.”

“I’m…” you paused and swallowed, looking from him to the coin and back at him again, apparently trying to find the right word. “I’m honored Henry. Truly.”

He nodded, and averted his eyes from your scrutiny, taking a sip from his wine.

“Now it’s my turn!” he said, putting his glass down and lightening the mood.

“Well, I hope you like it.” you said, and it was your turn to be shy.

“Oh, that’s unfair, mine was in English!” he exclaimed as he examined his coin, laughing.

You laughed along, shaking your head.

“It means ‘In darkness, light.’” you said, your laughter turning into a small smile. “It is my motto.”

He nodded.

“Thank you.” he said solemnly, watching you lounge back on the chair admiring your coin.

He reclined as well, running his thumb over the engraved words.

“Stay.” he said quietly, after you both had remained in silence for a while.

“What was that?” you asked, turning your head to look at him.

“Stay. In Slovenia, I mean.” He repeated. “If your flight is non-refundable, I’ll pay for your flight back, but stay. Please.”

He wondered if this was the last straw, if he had finally pushed you too far and it would end before it had the chance to begin. Again.

“Henry, I…” you started, but stopped mid-sentence.

“Please. I want to give us a try.” he said, as he sat up, leaning closer to you, but trying not to invade your space.

You sat up too, and sighed deeply.

“You, uh… are you sure?” you asked and bit your lip; the fear in your voice was something he never thought he’d hear directed at him.

“I am. I am sure that I want to be with you. I am sure that I’ve already fallen for you.” you gasped at his confession, but in for a penny, in for a pound.

He couldn’t really read you, you hid your feelings a little too well when it came to your heart.

“Say something, please.” he pleaded, with a small smile.

You scooted forward until you were very close to him.

Your hands, warmer than his because of the blanket he had wrapped you in, closed around his and squeezed lightly.

He looked at your joined hands, thinking of the silky skin he had had the privilege to touch throughout the day. Were you going to let him down gently?

One of your hands untangled from his to place a featherlight touch to his cheek, brushing slowly down to his chin, and lift his head and his gaze toward yours.

“I want to give us a try, too.” you whispered. “I trust you.”

Your whispered words gave his heart a start, but you didn’t give him much time to recover sealing your lips over his.

It was everything and nothing like he had dreamed about.

The softness and power contrasted starkly, vying for his attention while those lips molded around his own, caressing and dragging, making him forget to breathe.

He could taste the wine on your lips, and the touch of your tongue on his sent shivers up and down his spine.

It had been so long since anyone had made him feel anything remotely close to this.

Your tongues danced in synchronized movements and, at some point, teeth were invited to play as well.  

He didn’t know how long you two kissed for, time did not seem to matter anymore.

When you finally came up for air, he continued kissing the corners of your mouth. He couldn’t stop, you were like a balm for his sore soul that he didn’t know he needed.

He chuckled and you frowned.

“What?” you said, apprehensive.

“No, nothing. Just…” he didn’t finish, and he could tell this was not going well.

“Just what?” you asked, pulling away to look at him.

“Kissing you. It satisfied my curiosity.” he said calmly with a smile.

You frowned.

“Didn’t satisfy mine.” you said seriously, still frowning.

An awkward silence descended over you two. The look on your face told him you probably misunderstood, the hurt evident in the downward curve of your lips.

“Wait, what do you think I meant by that?” he was wrecking his brains trying to figure out how exactly you could have misinterpreted what he said.

“I don’t know, what exactly did you mean?” you replied, and he was right about you being hurt.

“I meant that I’ve been dreaming of what kissing you felt like. Now I know. What did you mean?” he earnestly confessed, all humor gone.

Staring deeply into his eyes, you said nothing for a while. Then you let out a deep sigh.

“I meant I could keep kissing you all night.” you finally said, your tone slightly dreamy.

He opened a smile, as your words put him at ease.

“I’ll see what I can do about that.” he said, and grazed the skin of your neck with his hand until he was cradling your head on one side. You leaned into his touch, warming him inside.

“So, you’re staying?” he half asked, needing to be sure.

“Yes. I’m staying.” you replied, putting your hands on both sides of his face and kissing him again.

Henry thought about the way you said that.

Yes.

Your employers were kind to you, though, and offered to send someone to take your place on the project so you could go back home, but you had worked so hard to get that project and see your friends, who over the years had all ended up in the UK, that you felt slightly insulted by the idea. So you rejected it, telling them you just needed another place to live.

Even though you showed a cool exterior, you couldn’t get past the unfairness of it all. 

You shouldn’t be the one to move. You shouldn’t be the one who didn’t feel safe, who checked five times or more if the doors and windows were truly locked. You shouldn’t be the one who woke up several times throughout the night, because of the noise of your own sheets as you tossed and turned in your bed. You shouldn’t be the one who needed to ask for a week-long leave so you could find someone not affiliated to or known by anyone you knew, to help you find a new place, and hire a specialized security team to make sure the movers weren’t followed.

The level of your paranoia was detracting from your overall well being, and after fainting the day you got back to work, you were referred to a psychiatrist after being discharged from emergency care.

Four doctors, three different types of pills and two weeks after you last saw Henry, found you in your new kitchen, looking at the notifications on your phone, while nursing a cup of chamomile tea - the doctors, all of them, prohibited you from ingesting caffeine. You hadn’t talked to any of your friends, since Arie accompanied you to a police precinct and stayed with you through most of that weekend. 

You did feel lonely and the baby blue tiles in the kitchen brought little warmth to what was supposed to be your new home, but you didn’t want to involve them in your mess any more than they already were, or end up putting them in any kind of danger.

You focused on work, so nobody could accuse you of slacking, and many days, scared that you could be followed home, you slept on the cold leather couch in your office.

Thank God February had ended. You were done with it.

***

Scotland was damp and cold this time of year. Henry hated this weather. 

Immersing himself into work was the way he found to deal with the excess of thoughts in his head, and the more he could focus on work, the less cold he’d feel.

He thought too much about you. Most of all, he thought he had been unfair. That maybe he should have given you a chance to tell him what that scene had been all about. But in his hurry to try and escape being hurt once more, he hurt himself. Probably hurt you too.

He also couldn’t shake the guilt and the shame. It accompanied him since that damned night on Valentine’s day, and he would carry it for as long as your smile haunted his dreams, which happened to be every bloody night.

You were always smiling, but always far. Out of reach.

So different from that last night he actually saw you. 

He was starting to forget your face during his waking moments. He felt that the more he tried to bring it back, the faster he lost the tiny details. It was like trying to hold water with a sieve. Sometimes he thought he should just let it go.

Clara’s face, however, the one he wanted to burn out of his brain, just wouldn’t leave him. It haunted him in a completely different way.

He held onto the necklace. It was an indirect reminder of you and what could have been. Another ‘could have been’.

It was no use trying to forget the memory of that day with you in the museum. If there was ever a perfect date, your suggestion had nailed it. 

You had been so open, so natural, answering any questions he had, and allowing him to get to know you, which was the complete opposite of what became mostly routine when he went on dates; like it had happened with Clara. You did not mention his acting at all, allowing him to steer the conversation as he pleased. He had laughed a lot that day, more than he had in a long time, and if he were being honest with himself, more genuinely too. He felt light.

You made him feel like a normal guy, and more than that, you treated him like another human being.

That was so rare.

And he gave it up.

He was lost in those bloody stages of grief, he realised one day. 

He kept going back and forth from denial to anger, and on good days, he managed to progress to bargaining. He refused to accept that he might fall into the next stage. You and him hadn’t really done much more than talk, fucksake! He wouldn’t fall into a depression over that.

But slowly, as production progressed, he realised he mourned the loss of that ‘could have been’. He saw himself holding on to his job and diving head first into eighteen hour workdays again, with little sleep, and being thankful that his eating was controlled by another person, who would practically force feed him at intervals so he could keep his physique for the role.

No matter how stubborn he had tried to be about fighting this funk, the people closest to him started asking questions more often. He realized that, no matter how many times he told them so, no, things were not alright.

***

March and April were mere pages on the calendar. 

You know you worked, your superiors were happy with the results. Your memory was a blur and most of it was comprised of either meetings, crying, sleeping or taking your pills when either of the ten alarms Zara had set in succession, finally aggravated you enough to reach for them.

She had bugged the shit out of you, calling the phone you couldn’t be bothered to silence, until you got mad and finally picked it up.

“What? Can’t you take a fucking hint?” you yelled.

“We’re way past that muffin. Give me your address, or I’m calling the Scotland Yard!” she said in a tone that left no room for argument.

You didn’t really have the energy for arguing, so you allowed them back into your life.

They visited you once, Zara, Arie and Nubia. 

They made sure you showered, Nubia insisted on washing your hair herself, and while she did that, the other two cleaned your flat, cooked, and stored the food they had brought in your freezer, and started a wash. 

Clara apparently was quite busy lately, according to the girls. They hadn’t seen much of her. She called and talked to them, but every time they set up a meet, she was too busy to show up.

“She’s got a lot on her plate. Her fashion line was taking off last time we talked.” you said, trying to appease Zara, who was the most outspoken about Clara’s negligence of her friend duties. “I’m sure that when the time comes for her to debut her new line, with all the journalists and who’s who of the fashion world, she’ll be more than willing to hang.”

“She’ll hang alright.” retorted Zara, her face sour.

“She’s right, Zee.” Arie interrupted before Zara could complain a little more. “Clara has always done her thing and sought us when she needed us. And she needs us. She’ll be around soon.”

“And when she comes back around,” Nubia added, joining you in the living room after making herself another cup of tea. “You can tear her a new one.”

It was the last time you remember smiling.

After they left and you didn’t have to pretend anymore, you put your phone on silent, checked the locks for the third time, and buried yourself under the covers. The windows were shut and locked - locks you had had installed, not giving a single fuck about the funny looks you got during their installation on your third floor flat -, and despite the increasing temperature outside and the the past few sunnier days London had been graced with, they weight of the covers was the extra comfort no human seemed to bring.

You often thought of him. How your chance to start over, to think of yourself as more than your past, had been robbed from you right in front of him.

You couldn’t hate him for wanting nothing to do with you. 

No matter how much of that argument he had heard, it would appear to any bystander that things were not over, and if they were over, it had been a messy break up.

Who would want to get involved in someone else’s mess?

Who would want to be someone’s rebound guy?

Not a gentle, kind, respectful, and gorgeous Hollywood star. He probably thought of what the press would make of your past and thought “Nope, pass. Next.”.

Thoughts like that only made you cry harder. 

Who in their right mind would want you?

***

Henry spent his birthday working, after all, it was just another Tuesday.

He was fortunate this time that he would be given the chance to go back to London and spend the weekend with his family and friends. During the week, however, the only thing indicating it was a special day were the many wishes for a happy birthday he got.

He was in no mood for partying. He was tired and wished he could sleep.

But Saturday night, in a club closed for the party, he found most of his family and his best friends toasting to his health and happiness. He had a great time, even though he chose not to drink much, and left fairly early. His friends teased him mercilessly before he left, but he didn’t really mind. Being home was the best gift he could give himself, and after a short walk with Kal, he went to bed and blacked out.

The following morning was really warm and promised a good day. His mom would be cooking a special meal to celebrate, now only with the family. He’d cheat on his diet big time, but he figured after so much sacrifice he’d earned some fun. There would be cake, and he was looking forward to family and carbs.

Walking with Kal early that morning, he thought he could go by your place and maybe have a quick chat with you, maybe apologize for the way he left that night. Maybe even invite you to hang with his family. 

On his way back home he had already talked himself out of doing that. You’d probably be enjoying the sunny day with your friends. Maybe even with your family.

Upon thinking of your friends, it was impossible not to think of Clara and what she may have told you about what had transpired on Valentine’s day. 

Again, he felt like a cad.

He wondered why, after all this time, he just couldn't let go of you. Why was it so hard to just move on if nothing really ever started between the two of you?

Shaking his head minutely to try and dispel all of these thoughts he noticed he was already in front of his door.

Kal, sitting by his side looked up at him expectantly. 

“I’m going mad.” He muttered, looking down at the dog, after taking the key from his pocket. 

He thought that perhaps he had really gone mad when he found himself sending a text to one of his friends who had contacts from his army times, to look into your past. He wasn’t able to dig much in the short time he had been given and because you were a foreigner. However, a very recent court ruling on a restraining order was easy to find. Everything else, was in line with the little you had told him.

After the delicious lunch, when he was lounging on one of the couches outside talking with his brothers. They complained about his not so festive mood, and the fact that he was doing a poor job at hiding it. 

“You know I love you, but there’s only so much ‘he’s tired’ that mum is going to swallow, mate.” Nik said to him, a serious frown on his brow.

He proceeded to tell them about you and the situation he’d witnessed outside your flat. His brother then told him that it explained why their friend couldn’t find you there when he went looking.

“He went to her flat? And told you about it?” Henry asked, disbelief clear but not so loud on his voice.

“Of course he did.” Nik replied, serious. “You asked him to investigate a woman for you. Shouldn’t we have taken that seriously?”

Henry had to admit that when he put it like that, maybe, he had exaggerated a little.

“But, he didn’t find her. Do you think she moved because of the situation with the restraining order?” Henry asked, his brow furrowed and his mind miles away from there. “Do you think she’s still in the UK?”

Because his eyes were focused on the lawn as he lost himself in thought, he missed the mischievous look his brothers exchanged.

“You care a good deal about this one, huh?” Piers said, with a smirk Henry disliked immediately.

“It doesn’t matter.” he dismissed his brother’s teasing and focused on his glass of water.

“The hell it doesn’t!” Nik argued in a whisper yell. “You made Jim hunt her down. Tell us the whole story!”

They wouldn’t leave him alone if he didn’t, so he told the story from the very beginning, since Clara.

“This Clara sounds like a grade A bitch.” Piers whispered. “Why did you even let her in?” he asked, his brow quirked.

“I don’t know. I was…” Henry just couldn’t find the right word.

“A twit.” Piers offered.

“A chump?” Nik added.

“Weak?” Piers continued, shaking his head to poorly disguise his laughter.

“Hor…” Nik was going to add, already snickering, but Henry cut him off.

“If you two are done taking the piss! I did not sleep with her.” Henry said, through his teeth.

The other two raised their eyebrows as they opened their mouths in shock and a silent “ooooh”.

***

The locked apartment became your own private sweltering hell, so you were forced to go out.

The heat of May meant the parks were full of people seeking vitamin D, who, like you, were sick of the indoor stuffiness. You figured that you should be safe enough in the crowds.

It was the first time in the past two months that you voluntarily took a step outside your door.

It was hard putting one foot in front of the other without glancing behind your back every two seconds, but the amount of people around forced you to pay attention to where you were going.

You chose Hyde Park to spend the day in, as there were pubs nearby for a quick lunch and the concerts of the day were really good.

You found yourself actually having fun, after so many weeks of tears and anxiety. You were happy to realize that you were finally on the mend.

Later in the afternoon, you crossed the park and found yourself on the way to the museums. You figured it would be a little cooler inside and two hours looking at Lady Di’s lovely dresses definitely didn’t hurt.

Deep down, you were smothering that little voice that kept shouting at you that you were exposed, that city streets where anyone may run into you are fairground and if he found you there, there would be little else you could do but scream.

When you were almost exiting the park, you could hear children talking loudly, and one of them, looking like he was no more than fourteen, came running after a huge dog. 

The black and white massive pooch was still attached to a blue lead.

“STOP!” The boy yelled at the dog, about twenty meters behind it.

The dog looked like he was having the time of his life. His huge mouth hanging open and looking like a grin.

When he was about to pass you by, you simply stepped on the lead and he had to stop on his tracks. He was friendly enough, sniffing you all over as his primary goal was forgotten, demanding your undivided attention. He jumped on you, causing you to lose your balance and fall, so he could lick your face properly.

The boy reached you just as one of the licks almost got you in the mouth. Your laughter sounded loud and foreign to your own ears.

Maybe you should get a dog.

“I’m sorry, madam.” The boy said to you, holding him back from you so you could get up.

“It’s fine.” You replied, trying to get the dirt off of your leggings and tank top. “I kinda needed to be tackled.”

The boy looked baffled at your reply but shrugged it off. He probably thought that you were halfway insane; the way your life was going, you were not so sure you didn’t agree.

You were looking down, trying to clean some pesky blades of grass off of your leggings, when you felt a hand pulling something from your hair.

You turned to the person to say thank you, though the gesture bothered you a bit. It felt too intimate. When your eyes met his, you almost shrieked.

***

He had recognized your laughter before he had even seen what was happening.

He had decided to take Kal for a walk; he always got too excited around his nephews. 

They all went out together to enjoy the good weather. His nephews led the dogs and Henry only supervised to make sure nothing would go wrong. There was no helping Kal’s prey drive though, and a squirrel decided to pass in front of them, apparently just to tease Kal, then disappear further ahead between bushes, and obviously the dog took off.

They all ran after him, but Kal went into the bushes making the situation very complicated for them.

One of his nephews managed to run ahead of the group and as Henry started to panic about losing sight of him, the amazing sound of your laughter, a sound he thought he’d never hear again, echoed in the air, making his heart go haywire. 

That day in the museum came back to him full force and he stopped running when you came into view, slowly taking in the way you actually looked compared to his fading memories.

It was a shock when he saw you clearly. All the brilliance he remembered had been dimmed. Despite the wide smile on your face, your eyes were sunken deeply, and your cheeks were a bit hollowed. You looked sick.

You hadn’t seen him as he approached. There was grass and dirt in your hair, and he didn’t think twice before pulling the bits from it, as if he’d done that a million times before.

He felt the urge to pull you closer, wrap his arms around you and kiss you. But he held back, and it was a good thing he did, because the look you gave him told him clearly that that touch was uninvited. Unwanted.

He dropped his hand, and his smile went with it.

“Are you okay?” He asked, serious, trying to mask the hurt he was feeling at that moment.

He knew that he had no right, whatsoever, to touch you, to demand a smile from you, to even have your sympathy.

“Yes. He packs a punch, though.” You said, avoiding his eyes and looking at Kal instead, petting him behind the ears one more time and then finally looking up.

There was a second of awkward silence.

“How have you…?” he started.

“You look g…” you added at the same time

He noticed his nephews giving him funny looks and smiling at each other.

He decided to introduce you to them.

“Oh, nice to meet you guys!” You said, a friendly tone to your voice he remembered hearing at the pub, so many months ago.

“Well, I, uh…” he started, but didn’t really know what to say.

“I gotta go.” you announced and his heart sank. “You look good.” 

He could only nod, as you started to walk away.

“Guys, wait a bit, please?” he said to his nephews while looking at you, missing their nod of acknowledgement and their teasing smirks.

He didn’t want it to be over that quickly and easily. 

Calling your name, he jogged over to you before you could cross the street.

“Hey, uh, I would really like to apologize.” You opened your mouth to protest but he raised his hands to stop you. “Please. Just let me get this off my chest?” 

He frowned at your blank, expectant look. He thought you wouldn’t let him speak.

“I was wrong to leave the way I did that night. Please forgive me?” he pleaded.

You looked surprised to hear those words. There were other emotions in your eyes, but they were gone too fast for him to catch.

“Don’t worry about that. It’s in the past.” You said, your words rushing out of your mouth. “Have a great day Henry. Oh, and happy belated birthday.”

Your smile was sincere, he could tell, but it was short, leaving your features abruptly as you turned and ran across the street. 

He felt that there was something wrong, and looked around, but saw nothing but a couple with a baby in a stroller, a man with a grocery bag, another man running with a dog, and an old couple holding hands as they crossed the street to the park. Nothing out of the ordinary for a Sunday afternoon.

***

You went back home thinking of the odds. In a huge park, full of people, you just had to run into him. Right when you felt that you were starting to raise your head, that you could finally emerge.

He apologized. What were you supposed to do with that now? Why was he even in London?

It didn’t matter. None of that should matter. It was probably his way to get rid of some perceived guilt he felt. It had nothing to do with you.

The cold shower you took when you got home seemed to change many things. It brought clarity where before there seemed to be only a haze. It washed away the numbness.

You were not sure if it was seeing him, or if it was a sum of everything that had happened to you since you arrived in England, but getting your suitcase, and very calmly starting to pack everything you’d be taking away with you, felt somehow cathartic.

With every item you picked from your dresser and folded into the suitcase, you exhaled relief and felt like all the bad that had happened would be staying in the empty drawers and closet.

Soon you’d be back home, in your country, in your house, no rentals, no need for extra security measures.

You’d definitely miss your friends, you’d miss the easy access to things, the amazing public transport. But it was time to put this chapter of your life behind and move on to new things.

Hopefully, better things.

***

Henry had to be well rested the following morning, so even though he wanted to stay and enjoy the great time he was having with his family, as dusk fell upon the city, he went home.

After a short walk with Kal, he started packing all he would need to take back to Scotland.

He kept on listing items out loud, trying to not to forget anything, but his mind insisted on going back to you. 

Your smile, the unhappy look on your face as you saw him, how nice but politely cool you had been toward his nephews, your overall very different aspect.

He felt much worse about everything concerning you when he thought of how much time had been wasted on avoiding pain, and in the end there was plenty of it to go around. For himself, and evidently for you.

He sat on his bed, next to Kal, who had been watching him dash around the house like a madman, picking the things he remembered randomly, and having to go back and forth from down to upstairs. At least it wouldn’t be a problem having to skip fasted cardio for the flight the following morning, and he was already burning some of the many calories consumed throughout the day.

Looking at his phone, charging on the nightstand, he considered calling you. 

Just to check if you were okay.

Maybe you two could strike up a conversation, just like you used to when texting that week before your second date. The last week he remembered looking forward to a notification as soon as he woke up.

He picked up his phone and looked for your contact. He hadn’t done that in so long, and seeing that picture of you, and the contrast with you as you were in the park filled him with sadness anew.

He started typing a message.

Hey,

The doorbell ringing along with Kal’s bark right by his ear gave him a start. 

“Easy Kal!” He said as the dog sprinted down the stairs ahead of him.

The doorbell rang again, giving Henry a sense of déjà vu.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked as he opened the door, doing his best to put on the ugliest scowl possible. “I thought I had made myself pretty clear last time.”

“You did. But, please, hear me out.” Clara begged, her tone distressed enough to make him allow her in.

She walked ahead of him, her phone notification sounds going off three consecutive times.

As they faced each other in the living room, he put into his demeanor all that his characters ever had of brooding, menacing and threatening. Her state was pitiful, nothing at all like the woman who had pounced on him with all her might, hair quite disheveled, no make up, and quite a scruffiness to her clothing.

“What’s happened to you?” He said, before she could start. His exterior mellowed slowly at the fact that she was on the verge of tears.

“Karma, I guess.” She began, her voice small. She was briefly interrupted by another ding from her phone, but ignored it. “I’ve been a bad girl, and Santa decided not to wait until Christmas to throw coal lumps at me.” 

She laughed then. A strange sound, probably because it was half laugh and half sob.

“I was jealous of her.” she continued. “No, envy is a better term for what I felt. She…” she paused and sniffled taking a packet of tissues from her handbag, her supply looked dangerously low. 

Henry knew immediately who she was talking about.

She looked at her phone as it dinged again, but ignored it.

“She’s so perfect! So nice!” she continued. “Everything in her life is put together and nothing ever goes wrong.” she paused and cocked her head to the left. “Except for Matt. He cheated on her for as long as they were together. He was extremely possessive and sometimes even violent, but she loved him.” 

She paused again to blow her nose, the tears she shed were genuine, she didn’t bother hiding the ugliness of her pain. Henry couldn’t pretend he didn’t care. He really wanted to know the story, how and why Clara was involved. Most of all he wanted to know why she was there in his living room telling him all that.

He gestured for her to take a seat on the sofa.

As her phone dinged several times in a row, and again she ignored it, he sat down on his computer desk chair, leaning his elbows on his knees.

“The day of the wedding, this girl comes barreling into the room where she was getting ready, shouting awful things at her, blaming her that Matt was getting into a loveless marriage and that she’d be the reason he’d spend the rest of his life miserable.” she huffs a humorless laugh.

“If you had seen the tears, and the heartbreak… We all had to keep an eye on her, worried that she’d do something stupid. Turned out Matt had stolen all the stupid in the world for himself, and started harassing and stalking her.” 

With a heavy sigh and breathing through her mouth, she finally looked up at Henry, once more ignoring the repeated notification sounds.

“He begged her to take him back. Then threatened to kill her when she refused. More than once, the selfish bastard. She got a restraining order and moved. We all moved. Went our separate ways. But she and I, and the girls, we were still friends.”

“Why do you envy her?” Henry asked, taking advantage of the pause. Her glassy eyes looked through him for a second, but she focused on him again as she spoke.

“My life hasn’t been the best lately, and after our date, I thought you were the key to get me out of the mud.” she confessed. “But then she told us about you two, and I don’t know, I snapped.”

Her tears fell once more, and her soft shrug punctuated her sentence. “I emailed Matt telling him where to find her.” Crying in earnest now, she sobbed as she continued. “She had managed to stay away from him for over a year and a half! What kind of friend does that?”

“A pretty shitty one.” Her expression after hearing his reply almost made him apologize. Almost. “Why are you here, shouldn’t you be apologizing to her, begging for her forgiveness?”

She shook her head repeatedly at his questioning, while the pity inside his heart irritated him.

“I did. Earlier this evening.” She replied and blew her nose one more time.

“Did she forgive you?” he asked, surprising himself with how much indignation he inserted in his tone.

She shook her head.

“I can’t blame her.” he said, his voice dry.

Her phone started ringing. She looked at the contact’s name and was about to decline the call.

“Answer the damned phone!” He said to her, more than over the annoying beeping.

“Yes.” she said as she did as she was told.

He could hear the voices on the other side, they were very loud and sounded quite angry.

“Yes, yes. As you wish, your highness! God!” she complained as she hung up. “I’m sorry about that. Apparently my confession shocked more than my former best friend. I’ll pay so dearly for all I’ve done, that missing her will be almost criminal.” she laughed humorlessly.

“What the hell does that mean?” he asked, getting sick of her antics.

“Well, now everyone knows what I did, and without her here to protect me against the furies… well, let’s just say that I dug my own grave.” she concluded, looking quite dejected and unhappy.

“What do you mean? ‘Without her here’? Henry asked, his mouth going dry and dread taking over his limbs like being submerged in a lake frozen over.

Despite the bustling museum, the twelve or so fans that stopped you to get a picture with him, and the difficulty to get close enough to actually see anything in the displays, it was fun just talking about the general theme of the exhibitions, the dinosaurs, animals in general, your hatred of the creepy crawlies and his passion for his charity work for the Jersey Zoo and the Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust. At the Earth’s Treasury Hall you discussed your favorite colors, gems, types of beaches, and he told you more about Jersey.

You ended up spending the rest of the day inside the museum, and the guard at the door gave you a sour look as you rushed out two minutes past closing time.

Your cheeks hurt from laughing so much, and you saw that his lips were also wide with a smile.

It was twilight, and the chill of the evening seeped through your light coat - you thought you’d be going home after the match ended. You crossed your arms and rubbed your already cold hands on them to try and warm yourself up a little faster.

Seeing that, he offered to buy you coffee at a nearby bakery he knew.

The smell coming from the place hit your nostrils as you rounded the corner and you had to hold back a moan of delight. The scent of freshly baked bread and vanilla were heavy in the air, and when he opened the door for you, it hit you so forcefully you had to take a step back.

With a cappuccino and a Danish for you, and black coffee and a sesame soft pretzel for him, you sat on a stool by a long wooden counter on the corner. 

You didn’t talk as you ate. You were content being in each other’s company.

***

Henry walked you to the closest tube station and before you went down the steps, he asked for your number.

He didn’t know why you hadn’t asked for his, but he definitely did not want to lose you in the crowd. Before you could vanish forever from his life, like a good dream that he would never be able to go back to, he put his hand in the crook of your arm and stopped you as soon as you said bye.

This couldn’t possibly be over with an “okay, bye”. Not if he could help it.

You were smiling as you went down those steps, and turned around at the foot of the stairs to wave at him. He wanted to throw his fist really high in the air. 

It had been a while since he felt this giddy over a woman.

You just seemed to check all the boxes for him. He could talk about everything with you. Every. Single. Topic. He shook his head at the thought of how rare it was to find someone he could discuss Ancient Egypt and MMORPG with. He could count on one hand the number of people who had a similar range of tastes and preferences he did.

That evening, he was in a particularly good mood to take Kal for a walk, he was able to get a lot of stuff he had been putting off done, he read and wrote a ton of emails he had been procrastinating on. He slept like a baby.

The great mood seemed to vanish literally overnight. 

The following morning presented itself grey, rainy and full of doubt, and his first thought was whether he should or should not text you good morning.

He decided against it, as it was very early. He did his regular fasted cardio and took Kal on a walk, thinking about you and what should be his next step. 

He didn’t watch where he was going, lost inside his head as he was, and bumped into a middle-aged lady.

“So sorry, do pardon me!”

She was going to say something, but taking one look at him, she decided against it, gawking at him, open-mouthed.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concerned that he had hurt her.

She nodded slowly.

“Ookay then, have a nice day!” He prolonged the word, concerned about her reaction, but decided to let it go.

He realized he had gone further than he had intended, and stood in front of a tiny antiques shop. Something caught his eye on the window and he decided to walk in.

***

If you had any doubts before, now you were certain that Henry was truly a superhero.

Work had been killing you and it was only Monday, but his text at lunchtime sent you to seventh heaven, and despite the heavier rain after eleven o’clock, there were no clouds in your sky.

“I’d very much like to see you again, and an acquaintance of mine has just opened a restaurant. Wanna check it out with me, Friday, seven thirty? XO Henry” 

You typed your response quickly and, thanks to that, spent the rest of the day unable to care about whatever went wrong in the Chinese market, or the reports that the people under your supervision were late handing in, which in turn delayed your own work, or that your boss back home had just emailed you a new deadline for the project you were heading.

At five pm, you left the building and on your way home, got a text from Zara, asking you if you wanted to meet her for a drink and telling you about a midweek girls’ night. You texted her you were on your way.

The bar was a few tube stations away from the building where you worked, and she was already nursing a Cosmo when you arrived.

“Won’t that mess with the breastfeeding thing?” You asked her in lieu of a proper greeting.

She kissed your cheeks as she shrugged.

She was sitting on the corner of the lounge area overlooking sad London in the fading light, on one of the cozy, multi-colored chairs by the floor to ceiling window, where you joined her. Despite the grey, it was quite a view.

“I have at least a dozen bottles full in the freezer for exactly this kind of situation. I’ll have to pump some more for Wednesday.” She pondered.

“Ew! TMI! Anyhoo, what’s this girl’s night for?” You asked her while perusing the menu.

“Well, it was called very much like a union meeting.” She chuckled at her comparison. “Clara wants to bitch about Supes.”

From the look on her face you weren’t able to hide the shock and outrage you felt.

Zara was sweet, but sane. Of all of the girls in your little club, she was the one who was most like you, despite having a ten year-old son and the eight month old twins.

You had met her through Clara, but you and Zara became much closer friends. 

Zara never judged.

“Okay, by that look alone I know that there’s something there. Tell me when you feel like it.” She reacted as she always did, speaking quite nonchalantly, as if you not telling her wouldn’t eat away at her.

You paused, as the waitress took your order and looked at her in the eye.

“Okay, okay!” she caved. “I’m dying to know! What the hell do you want to hide from Clara and what does it have to do with her not so super date?” her wide eyes stared into yours and her leg was bouncing.

You took a deep breath and let it go with a sigh.

“Weeeeeellllll…” you dragged the word in such a way that her anxiety got the best of her.

“What the hell have you done?” she asked, and you laughed at motherly tone.

“Nothing much.” you replied with a shrug, looking away at the waitress coming back with your drink.

She noticed there was somebody else around and reined in her curiosity.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the poorly contained emotional distress she exuded.

“Before you go any crazier, I wanna make it very clear that nothing happened.” you opened your mouth to continue, but she interrupted you. 

“OMG! You and… Dear, you’re not serious, are you?” her look of concern as she asked you this, dispelled any irritation you could have harbored.

“Why do you say that?” you inquired, squinting at her.

“Blimey! You and your deflections!” she quipped. 

You just crossed your arms and waited for her to continue.

“I’m not saying anything else until you tell me exactly what happened.” She asserted, crossing her own.

You gave her an exasperated sigh, and told her everything that had happened the day before, and about the fact that he had asked for your number in such a cute way.

“Bloody hell!” she exclaimed when you finished telling her.

“Yeah.” Was all you could reply.

“Clara will be so mad at you!” she pondered, her eyes very far away over the London skyline.

“She has no reason to be, though. He told her that it wouldn’t work between them.” she gave you a look, that demanded further response. “At least he told me he had.” you added.

“And you really think that will make a difference? You grew up with Clara, you know how she gets with her shiny new toys. Besides, there’s the girl code.” she said, turning her attention to her drink.

“‘The girl code’? That’s bullshit. I won’t let go of something that has the potential of being really good just because of Clara’s temper tantrums.” you asserted, maybe a little louder than you should have from the looks you were getting from other patrons around you.

Zara raised her eyebrows while sipping her drink, and putting it down, grinned at you.

“That’s what I wanted to hear. You really like this guy, huh? Even being famous and all that shit.” She appraised you while you nodded. “Then, don’t worry about anything. Whatever happens at the meet on Wednesday, I’m on your side.”

"Well, you better be, cause I have another date with him on Friday."

***

Henry had spent the entire week counting the hours to see you again.

Kal was already at his friend’s house for the night, just in case.

He had bought the flowers, hired the car, the reservations were made, and he was ready, standing outside your flat fifteen minutes before the hour you two had agreed upon.

When he arrived, he glanced at his watch and winced.

Would you think he was too eager to arrive too soon? Maybe you liked people on time, like he did, and would excuse his timing. Maybe you would be late and it would be mortifying for you if you saw him from your window. It definitely wasn’t his intention to embarrass you.

He wondered as he looked out of the car window at the facade of your building, which of the four windows overlooking the street could be your flat’s.

He was startled by an argument raging as the front door of the building was thrown wide open, slamming against the wall and hitting the blonde man coming out of it on his back. He, unfazed by the blow, turned his back to the street shouting quite a few colorful words to whoever was standing there to hear.

His tone, demeanor and choice of vocabulary, left little to the imagination. 

Henry was overhearing a lovers quarrel.

The man seemed to be pleading to whoever was in there to take him back, but at the same time, there was a threatening tone in his voice, like the person owed him the chance.

From the few words Henry picked up, he surmised that the man had been left at the altar. Poor chap. The passion with which he pleaded his case showed he was still very clearly in love, but also very hurt. Henry could understand that, despite thinking the vulgarity in the man’s speech unnecessary.

Still watching the scene unfold, he caught a glimpse of something red coming closer to the door. The man, in turn, took a few steps backwards, almost falling down the front porch steps. He caught himself, and the long skirts of what Henry presumed was a bright red dress blew in the wind outside the door. That person did not shout at all, and he couldn’t really tell, but he presumed a woman was at the receiving end of that bloke’s verbal assault. 

The final words were loud and clear in a foreign accent, maybe American, for anyone to hear:

“THIS IS NOT OVER! YOU MARK MY WORDS!” 

Then he stomped away, tripping on his way out of the gate.

Henry looked at his watch and noticed that because he wasted time observing the spat, he was now late.

He picked the bouquet, straightened his suit jacket and made his way to the door, which was still open, and the counterpart to the altercation hid her face in her hands while squatting in the foyer.

The woman in red didn’t lift her beautifully coiffed head when he got close.

“Erm, excuse me…” he started, but was silenced by the face that met him, contorted in a mix of anger and pain.

“Henry!” you breathed.

Seeing you there, the opposing side of that row, gave him pause. He didn’t know what to say, or what to do.

You were staring at him, not really crying, but he could see a world of hurt, you weren’t able to mask, in your eyes.

“Hi!” you once again whispered the word.

Clearing your throat while looking down, you tried again, lifting your head slowly.

“Good evening, Henry. How are you?” By the end of your question your lips were split by something very similar to the smile he remembered from Sunday.

Your ability to fake being okay was impressive. Or shocking. He was not sure.

“Good evening!” His smile was equally stellar. He was the actor there, after all.

“I’m sorry if you heard any of that.” You said with a grimace, pointing in the general direction of the gate.

He nodded, as if to say it was okay, but you winced.

“Give me five and I’ll be right there with you.” He nodded, but before he could say anything, you continued. “Are those for me?”

He nodded again and handed you the bouquet. The red roses weren’t as beautiful as when he had bought them that afternoon, but when he had thought about their durability then, he dismissed the notion that you’d mind if they had wilted slightly. 

He had thought that you’d agree that only diamonds are forever. 

***

Up in your flat, you were trying your very best not to cry.

Matt was not supposed to show up.

You had vowed to keep your distance until the end of time, and went through great lengths to ensure that. He had apparently chosen to ignore your wishes.

And he was so great at that.

Your heart was racing at the thought of Henry hearing all that. Oh God! How much had he heard? Would he still be downstairs when you returned?

Hurriedly putting the flowers in a vase, you went to the bathroom and with a wet towel, tried to cool your pulse points on your neck and wrists. You splashed a little more perfume and made your way out.

He was waiting for you by the car, and was extremely polite. Too polite.

The drive was a silent affair. Even after your attempts to ask him about Kal and about the beginning of shooting for his show. He politely replied to anything you said, but that was it.

It sucked.

He wasn’t the same guy who you had fun with on Sunday. All his walls were up. He didn’t ask you about anything related to the topics you two had texted through the week, topics that he had said he couldn’t wait until Friday to discuss with you in person.

Despite the distance, you thanked heavens for his discretion. You certainly did not want to hash any of that shit he possibly witnessed out. 

Dinner was also quiet. 

You two discussed the aesthetic of the restaurant (your ‘Wow, it’s so beautiful’, followed by his ‘Yeah.’), the complexity of the flavors (his ‘Hmm, so many flavours!’ to your ‘Yeah, it’s really rich.’) and the simplicity of the recipes (your ‘Who would have thought something so good could be so simple, right?’ to his ‘Yes, indeed.’). You briefly discussed how much you liked the harmony of the delicious dishes and wines you sampled as guests at the chef’s table.

In any other situation, it would have been THE date, but as it turned out, you ate, you drank and made your way out straight into the car.

Throughout the evening he was a perfect gentleman. You could not deny that.

As he walked you to the front door to your building, you wished he wasn’t thinking about what had transpired earlier and wondered if you should ask him up for coffee. He beat you to it, however, touching the back of your arm very lightly, and planting a kiss on the crown of your head.

“I had a very pleasant evening. Thank you.” He said, looking into your eyes.

He didn’t wait for you to reciprocate the sentiment, turning on his heels and leaving without a single glance back. 

You watched as he got into the car and left your life.

Maybe it was for the best, you thought to yourself as you climbed the stairs. You were supposed to leave London in three months. Nothing good would come of a relationship starting with an expiry date.

You told yourself those words; saying them in your head was easy enough. The tears that accompanied them, unstoppable in their descent, were not so easily contained.

You were glad you could make it to your flat, locked the door and buried your face in one of the throw pillows, in time to sob as loud as you wanted.

An hour went by. Your throat hurt and your eyes were burning. You lamented not having any chocolate in the house. Opening your eyes you saw your phone on the carpet by the armchair. It had fallen off of your purse, where you had thrown it. You didn’t feel like getting up, so you stretched your arm as much as you could, almost falling off the couch, but reached it in time to put your hand on the floor, closer to the couch, and avoid falling on your face.

It was all you needed, a black eye on top of their current bloodshot look.

You texted the girls. 

“Need a place to stay, can’t guarantee I’ll be good company tho.”

***

As soon as Henry walked through the door of his flat, he allowed the weight on his shoulders to show. He had picked Kal up because he would need the company.

He sat on his living room sofa and the bear immediately lay next to him, putting his massive head on his lap, and consequently, on his expensive suit. He couldn’t give a single flying fuck.

From the inside breast pocket of the suit jacket he pulled the purple velvet cloth that protected the necklace he had seen from the antiques shop window. Unwrapping it, he let it hang in front of his face, twirling it slightly.

It was simple: a thin gold chain with a gold interwoven double circle pendant. Inside the pendant, hung a half carat amber diamond. Even that small and in the dim light, its fire was evident and it shone.

He had envisioned how beautiful it would have looked around your neck, and how lucky he would have been to fasten the chain for you. He had wondered if your scent was mostly perfume or if your hair was to blame for the delectable aroma invading his nostrils as you passed him entering the bakery. He was looking forward to the feel of the skin on the nape of your neck, and your reaction as his fingers accidentally skimmed it.  

The depth of his disappointment was a surprise.

It hit him harder than it should.

He didn’t even know what he had expected of you. You hadn’t really talked about your pasts.

But it definitely wasn’t someone who would just leave a guy in a continent and move on to the next in another. Or the kind of woman who would leave a guy at the altar. That was harsh.

All through that dinner he couldn’t really bring himself to want to be there anymore. He went through the motions. He didn’t want to pretend and lead you on. Looking back at their goodbye, he was rude. His mother had raised him better.

Lowering his hand he sighed.

“Why do I do this Kal?” he leaned his head back and slouched, putting his feet under the coffee table. 

He put his other hand on the dog’s head and stroked the thick fur on his neck.

You were the star featured in his dreams that night. 

Sitting next to him on the sofa in his living room, wearing that red dress. He held your hand, marveled at the soft feeling of your skin and you laughed out loud at that. He felt happy at the sight of you there, happy and within arms reach. All of a sudden you got up, called Kal for a run, and started playing with him around the towel you had put on the grass of the park where you were. Kal started barking and nuzzling him, and you ran farther away. He got up to run, but his body felt like it was made of lead. He looked down at his body, then back up in the general direction you had gone. He could still hear your laughter, but he could no longer see you. 

His movement, heavy as it was, frustrated him to the point of scratching at his consciousness. Kal’s barking continued though, and his mobile rang loud when he opened his eyes.

He groaned and looked at the screen. It was time to get up.

Unlocking the screen he opened his contacts app and scrolled to yours. The candid of your smile, taken in a spur of the moment thing that he didn’t often feel, came up with your number. He opened the image so it took all of his screen. Many should haves went through his mind, but he buried them all.

It hurt. A lot.

How could he be this in love with someone, if he hadn’t even kissed her? You had spoken so little about your lives outside of likes and dislikes.

He hated that you could easily find so much information about him online and he had to be content with whatever you chose to give him.

He tried, but he couldn’t hate you.

Putting down the phone he got up. Kal, who had sat by the bed waiting for him, got up as well.

“Okay Kal, let’s do this.”

***

Arabelle opened the doors of her spare room to you and told you to stay as long as you wanted.

Even though Windsor made for a long trip to work every morning, at least you were sure that here, in the very upper class gated community, Matt would not be able to come harass you.

You didn’t know how he had found you. There was a restraining order, all of your friends knew of the situation and your employers did as well. But somehow he had shown up, out of hell, to ruin things, just when your life seemed to be taking a turn for the best.

Saturday morning, Harry, Arie’s husband, took Frederick, their son, and told you they would be spending the day with his grandparents. He gave you a kiss on the cheek and told you to call the cavalry, and that he had bought ice cream. You gave him a hug as the tears in your eyes thanked him.

Arie got in the kitchen then, and told you that she had already called everyone.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. We’re here for you.” She vowed, her face stern.

She had spent the night by your side, sleeping at intervals, just like you. The little sleep you got was plagued by nightmares of Matt, tormenting you. 

You didn’t know how there were still tears left to cry, but they insisted on rolling down your cheeks.

When the squad was finally gathered, minus Clara who had to work, Arie told them what was happening.

“But how did he find out where you live?” Nubia asked the very obvious question. 

“Million dollar question Nubs.” Zara supplied. “His timing bothers me more than anything.” she said, while looking at her nails.

“What are you not saying?” Arie asked, eyeing Zara suspiciously.

“Well, she had what? One year, free of him?” she wondered.

“But over there he had to respect the restraining order, Z.” Nubia objected.

“That is valid across borders sweetie.” said Zara, picking up a spoon and adding several spoonfuls of vanilla ice cream to her espresso. “We’ll go to a police station as soon as you’re ready, babe.” she continued, looking at you.

You were uncertain of your course of action. The process back home had been so nerve-wracking, you didn’t want to go through that again.

“I’m not sure I want to stir that shit up again.” you spoke softly, after a deep sigh.

You hated the look they gave you, so full of sympathy. 

They didn’t understand, not like Clara. She had been sharing an apartment with you back then, and stood by your side through that whole ordeal, she would have been the rock you needed for support this time. But she couldn’t be there, and you understood. She wouldn’t be able to be there for you forever.

***

Henry had a rough week. His sleep was off, his waking moments were plagued by thoughts, and he did not want to think.

He had gotten his first script and began reading it, but his concentration wasn’t helping, and his anxiety levels got him over exercising and avoiding everything and everyone.

He was cranky and even Kal kept his distance.

It was Valentine’s day and his brooding was very in character for Geralt, he thought ruefully. The doorbell rang, and with a frown, he got up from the couch to answer it.

It rang again when he was about to open it, and that very much told him he did not want to talk to the person on the other side of that door. 

He turned to Kal to tell him to stay back as he opened the door. The dog would not stop barking though, and that for him was another red flag.

His eyes must have bugged out, because he did not believe what he was seeing.

“Hi! Thought you could use the company today. I hope you don’t mind, I got your address from Andy, who also didn’t want you to be alone. He said you’ve been holed up in here for days!”

She did not wait for an invitation. Touching her open palm to his chest as she passed giggling, she walked in. Kal didn’t stop barking, even as she baby spoke to him.

“Oh my gosh! You’re so bloody cute!” she turned back towards him, a hand hanging high above Kal’s head. “Does he bite?”

“Not normally.” Henry answered through his teeth. “But he doesn’t look that happy to meet you. I wouldn’t risk it.”

“Well, then…” she said, retrieving her hand, turning around and examining his flat. “Isn’t your place… quaint!”

“Glad you like it.” Henry replied, not hiding his displeasure.

She kept walking in and when she got to the living room, sat on his couch. 

Kal had stopped barking, but still on edge, wouldn’t really go near her.

“Well, won’t you offer me anything to drink? I did come here to make you feel better.” she said, and added a pout at the end.

“Make me feel better? What the hell do you know about me?” he was starting to get angry and the walls were thin. He took a deep breath.

“Well, I know you’re lonely.” she began. “I know you haven’t spoken to your friends in a while. They were the ones who got in touch with me, after all.” she patted the place next to her on the couch.

He heaved a deep sigh and sat next to her.

“Hmmm, isn’t this better?” she purred, leaning on his arm and putting an arm around his shoulder. “So much tension! I could massage that out for you. I mean, if you want me to.” she spoke, while caressing him from shoulder to shoulder.

He closed his eyes and she took advantage of it, kissing his shoulder, then, kneeling on the couch for better access, she kissed his neck and moved to his jaw.

“Stop!” he told her, firmly, and got up.

“Why?” she spoke, an innocent look in her eyes. “Is this about my dear friend?”

She didn’t really need to mention you by name to strike a chord. 

“Cause she’s moved on, you know? Well, there was nothing between the two of you to begin with…” she trailed off.

There was no malice that he could notice in her voice. She was merely stating the facts. And hurt as it may, they were the facts. He turned and walked away from her.

She unfolded herself from his couch and sauntered across the tiny living room to wound her arms around his waist.

“Maybe it’s for the best. Be with someone who actually wants you.” she continued.

She touched his arm and pulled slightly, making him turn to face her.

“Kiss me.” she urged.

He hesitated, looking into her eyes with a pained expression.

“I can make it go away. Kiss me.” She insisted.

“Clara…” he started, but she didn’t let him finish.