Appeal Denied

53: Verdict

July 2, 2018

Sitting on the edge of the tub, I ensure my head is firmly over the toilet bowl, even though the dry heaves have passed. Harry is perched next to me, his hand rubbing over my back as he repeatedly murmurs nonsensical words.

Finally, my stomach settles, and I'm able to draw air in. Standing, I take Harry's hand and lead him to the sofa in the living room area. No way am I having this conversation in the bathroom. Settling comfortably onto the elegant cushion, I tuck one leg under the other, tightening the bathrobe belt as Harry nervously perches facing me. I gulp from the glass of wine he's left for me.

"Harry, my love," I begin, taking his hands in mine. "We knew this day would come...." His eyes well up with tears, and I tilt my head to examine him. "Wait," I wonder, "Why are you crying?"

"Fuck, Brains. All along I told you that being in a public relationship was going to be bad news. And now we're out there for everyone to see."

"So?"

His eyes lock on mine. "What? What do you mean 'so'? My girlfriend is in the bathroom ready to chunder."

I stroke my hand along the bristles growing on his cheek. "Harry, my love," I repeat, "That was a first reaction to the ugliness, but I've got tough skin. I'll get used to it."

"But the fans...." he begins, and I scoff.

"Will either love me or hate me. Few will be indifferent. After all, they love you and want what they think is best for you. What are you planning to do? Live your life alone because of your fans?"

My hand has slid behind his neck, and I stroke the curls there, wrapping them around my fingers and allowing them to bounce back into position as I wait for his pronouncement.

"Well....no. But I don't want you to have to go through that kind of negativity all the time just because you're dating me."

Tilting my head, I allow my eyes to roam over his face. His cheekbones are flushed with concern, and his jaw is tight with frustration or anger. I can't yet tell the difference. Bangs have fallen over his forehead, and I want to brush them away or fill my fists with strands of his hair and just yank until it grows to the length of when we first met. I love this man so very much. He's willing to put his own happiness aside for mine.

"Listen to me, Butterfly Boy," I insist. "I can handle anything if you are by my side. Now that my name is out there, the fans won't leave me alone even if we never see each other again. So we might as well move forward. See if we can make a relationship work in spite of a few negative and vocal fans."

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, Harry leans forward to kiss me. As our breaths mingle, he whispers, "I love you, Brains." Kissing me lightly on the nose he repeats, "I love you." His lips fall on my jaw. "I love you." Finally he allows our lips to meet, and I am lost to him. Harry, the hurricane sweeping across the land, leaving flooding, tornados, and devastation in his wake. But also renewal and life and a fresh start.

Leaning me backwards on the sofa, he nudges aside my robe, taking my left nipple in his mouth. Shocker! My sarcastic brain chooses to call him out.

"What if we have kids and your son prefers the left nipple too, Harry?" I ponder, my head tilting back as my lady bits sit up and pay attention to his actions. "How will you cope?"

"Ummmm....I'm still the man in this family, and that one is mine," he announces as though declaring war, pressing a sweet kiss to the tip.

I laugh out loud, holding his face in my hands as we lie half on the sofa in this elegant hotel with Beatles memorabilia all around us.