2.13 First Fight

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Friday arrived and our house was finally finished. And it was time to say good-bye to Zayn.

"Thanks for everything," I said. "The house is amazing. You are really talented – not just in construction, but in design and singing."

Then I gave him a gift bag and said, "It's just a small token of our appreciation. For everything you've done for us."

He looked a little embarrassed and said, "You didn't have to do anything."

"I know, but I wanted to."

He opened the bag and pulled out a specialized pair of headphones called Hearfones.

"They help you to hear your actual voice when you're singing. It's projected back to you as others hear it. Then you can adjust your tone and breath accordingly," I explained.

"Wow! These are amazing. I've never heard of such a thing. But I don't know if I'm ready to hear myself singing, let alone sing for other people." He smiled shyly at me and then said, "But thank you. That was really thoughtful."

"You're welcome," I said and then I winked. "Who knows? Maybe Harry can hook you up."

Zayn laughed and looked at the floor. "Thanks," he said quietly. "I'll stick with this for now. But let me know if you need anything else, okay?"

"Of course, and please let me know, too, if you need anything, anything at all," I insisted.

"Sure thing."

With one last friendly hug, Zayn got into his truck and drove away.

Our house was finally finished. Well, except for the pool that Harry wanted to put in. We decided we would do that next summer instead of trying to have it done while all the other renovations were happening.

I sat down in the living room. I looked around and enjoyed the view from every angle. This house was my dream house. I had four wonderful children and an amazing husband. My family was nearby and they rallied around me whenever I needed anything. My life was just about perfect. Except for one thing:

I was starting to resent my husband's career.

A few days later, I was back at the airport. I was actually starting to recognize the faces of some of the staff and crew since I was there so often. I had decided not to bring the kids this time because I wasn't sure how our reunion would be. I hadn't seen Harry since that steamy yet terrifying day in LA.

The investigation on the stalker had run a little cold. She hadn't contacted me in a few weeks - I was convinced it was a woman, based on the wording of the messages and threats - and the police found no evidence to suspect Victoria or my ex-husband Eric or anyone else. The case was in limbo, but I hoped that it would eventually get resolved. Or that I would never hear from the stalker again. The best situation would be both.

I stood, once again, by the security gate, waiting to catch a glimpse of Harry. I rocked back and forth on my heels and chewed my nails. I wasn't sure where we should start – should we try to hash out all the disagreements we'd had over the phone? Should I ask him about the details of the tour that he didn't consult me about? Or should I just tell him how much I missed him?

Harry answered my questions for me. When he saw me, he practically knocked over the other passengers to get to me. He picked me up like he always does, but he squeezed me so tight, I could hardly breathe. He buried his face in my neck and his voice cracked as he whispered, "God, I missed you! I missed you so much!" When he set me down, he pushed back a little and took my face in his hands and kissed me heavily.

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