Honey Smiles // Harry Styles Series #3 - Jamaica

Palm Beach

He needed me. To help make arrangements, to be a pretty woman at his side as he received condolence visits. 'Our very dear friend Caroline' was my title. Most of the people who came knew I had been his fiancée, and that he had jilted me for a Texan tart who had then left him high and dry. It was beyond uncomfortable, but the family seemed to earnestly appreciate my presence, my help. I had experience losing a beloved father.

Harry called twice, but conversation was difficult since I always seemed to have a bereaved family member within earshot. Texts were frequent, and more personal. They were making some headway on a few songs, but he missed his muse. Every day he asked me when I'd return, and every day I said soon. But soon began to seem farther and farther away. Planning a society funeral was nearly as complicated as a wedding, or so it seemed.

Harry was sullen the night before the event, as we managed a quick call.

"He was horrible to you, Caroline. Horrible. He broke your heart, but you've left us – me – for him. Just tell me, are you coming back, or is it over?"

"Oh, Harry, of course I'm coming back. The funeral's tomorrow and then I can leave, I promise. I miss you, all of you, and Geejam and DQ. I'll let you know the minute I've booked my tickets. Can you wait for me, just a few days more?"

His voice was more cheerful, "Just a few days, Caroline. I really do need you."

~

On the evening of the funeral, over two weeks after I arrived, Phillip came to my room, drunk – as he had been most of the time since I arrived - and exhausted. We sat on the balcony loveseat, facing a moonlit ocean. He took my hand and I took it right back.

"Don't be that way, Caroline. You've been so kind to us, so helpful. Tell me what you've been doing the past few months." He didn't even pause long enough for me to begin to answer him. "Lucie and I went to Thailand, then Bali. We were in Hawaii when she left."

I made a conscious decision to let him continue. It had been no real surprise to learn that she'd ditched him. Maybe I wanted to gloat in his misery. No, there was no maybe about it.

"There was a man she'd left behind in Morocco. I had no idea. It was a game they played; they called it 'leapfrog.' One leaving the other, then meeting again a few months later. Her face when she explained it to me, her face as she stood next to him, running her hands through his hair the same way she had through mine. I went back to my hotel room and was sick, over and over.

"Caroline, can you ever forgive me? Can we go back to how it was? I kept your ring, you know. Maybe I knew in my heart you were the real thing."

I stared in disbelief as he pulled it out of his pocket.

"Will you marry me?"

I laughed. Loud and in his face.

"Phillip, you're drunk and grieving and possibly the most self-deluded ass I've ever known. Do you really think I'd even consider marrying you after what you did to me in Greece?"

"But you came when I needed you. You're here. You're helping us. We need you to stay. I need you to stay."

"I came for your mother, your sister, and your brother, all of whom have been unfailingly kind to me since the beginning. I did not come for you. I'm leaving tomorrow."

He began to cry. "You can't leave me now. I need you to help me. You were so strong when your own father died. You... you changed. Maybe you can help me change."

He leaned toward me and I immediately stood.

"Get out, Phillip."

"Please, Caroline, help me." He was by my side as I walked toward the bedroom door, grasping at me, missing as he lurched along.

"I'll help you right out of this door." I opened it and maneuvered him into the hallway. "Go to bed, Phillip."

The next morning he asked me if I knew why the engagement ring had been in his pocket. He had the good sense to be embarrassed when I told him about the liquor-fueled proposal.

~

"Harry."

"Hello Caroline, are you coming back now that it's over?"

"Phillip's family want me to stay a little longer. To help him. It's complicated."

"You promised. I miss you. You sound tired."

"I'm stifled. Cocktail parties and dinners and tennis. I fucking hate tennis. And all the same conversations over and over. I can't even go for a run because it's "not done" in this neighborhood. I feel like a prisoner, but I don't know how to get out of it without hurting the family's feelings."

He was silent, just for a moment. "I have an idea. Will you meet me in Miami, for one night? Tell them a dear friend from far away is coming in and it would be rude of you not to see them. Saturday night. I'll send you my hotel information and you can meet me there Saturday morning, early. We'll make a day and night of it."

"Really? I thought you were in your bubble."

"It'll be fine, I promise. You're out of your bubble as well, aren't you?"

"I think I can get away for a night. What'll we be doing?"

"We're going to be free. I'll see you on Saturday."

They didn't bat an eye when I said I'd be meeting an old friend. Phillip asked if it was someone he knew and when I said no he didn't press. He was too drunk to care.

I found myself comparing the dismal reality of spending even one more day in Phillip's company to the thrill of anticipation I felt about seeing Harry. Phillip needed help that I couldn't give. Taking Ted and Amelia aside on Friday evening, I told them that I wouldn't be coming back from Miami. I knew that whatever Harry had in store, after being back in his vibrant presence, I couldn't come back to that oppressive and depressing house again.

I suggested they get Phillip professional help, maybe even send him somewhere for a little while. I knew they wouldn't; the family kept their problems swept tidily under the Aubusson carpets.

As I gave Phillip a fleeting kiss on the cheek goodbye, he was spinning my engagement ring on the terrace table, Bloody Mary at hand. He knew I wasn't coming back, although no one had told him.

"I sincerely hope you get well and find some happiness. You won't see me again."

"I know. I do love you, Caroline."

"Goodbye, Phillip."

It was nine o'clock on Saturday morning as I stepped into the car Harry had sent for me, and I could feel the tingle of my wings ready to spread.