The Weeks Between • HS

Week 23: Part 2- Nola *

I roll over expecting to find Harry's warm body to snuggle up to, but I realize that I'm actually alone in his giant over-indulgent bed. The air in the villa is much cooler than when we were here this summer and his absence can definitely be felt even more when I'm not wearing anything underneath the quilt we were sharing just a few hours ago. "Harry?" I call out, figuring that he must have just gone to the bathroom, but then I get no reply. I reach for my phone on the nightstand to see that it's 2:04am. Where did he go? I stand from the bed and survey the room for something appropriate to slip on, but end up finding nothing within reach so I settle for wrapping my body in said quilt as I slip on Harry's slippers.

First, I shuffle towards the kitchen. Maybe he was hungry for a midnight snack? The singular sconce near the sink on the far wall of the kitchen is on, but no other lights are. I follow the hallway to the living room and his office space to find both rooms dark- with no sign of Harry anywhere. "Harry?" I call out again, but still get no response, making me question if he left the house? When I check the key hooks I find none missing, and he only has one car at the villa, so it would be easy to spot if it was gone.

It's freezing, so my last thought is of him being outside, but when my tour of the rest of the house comes up empty, I leave the house to search. I start with the cellar because... memories, but it, too, is empty. Then, I take the stairs to the terrace and finally I see him sitting with his head in his hands, completely dejected. It feels like it's more than just him not being able to sleep. "Harry?" I quietly call out to him, making my presence known from across the terrace.

"Hi," he answers, but doesn't even look up at me. What's going on with him? Now my anxiety is building at a frantic pace. It looks like he's discreetly wiping tears from his eyes and I can count, on one hand, the number of times I've found someone crying and the conversation that follows is a jovial one. I walk over and sit down on the same lounge chair as him, but at a respectful distance because I don't know what has him falling apart in his rooftop. I recognize it well. At this point, I'm pretty much an expert at squirreling away emotions real fast when someone you don't want to talk to about them approaches. That's what he just did- squirreled it away, but I know him well enough to know that his sleepy eyes aren't this particular shade of red.

"Baby, what's wrong?" He doesn't answer, so I close the gap between us. His hair is unruly and in his eyes, so, take the clip from the pouch on his hoodie and twist it back for him. Once more, I gently ask. "Talk to me, H. What's going on?"

He doesn't answer, but instead hands me his phone with a single message from Jeff:

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New Challenge. Your mom and Gemma were photographed with the girls.

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No. No. No. This can't be happening. I cover my mouth with my hand and am unable to avoid the sharp gasp that follows. "A-a- are there pictures coming out?" I knew about most of the past pictures, but I hadn't heard about these yet.

"Jeff did what he could about the paps, but there were people at the park taking pictures, as well. He's guessing some private accounts will post them today, if they haven't already. They'll do their absolute best to get all of them down but you know how fast people screenshot these things and start asking questions and..." he's worried but I know that we're already in the clear. My lawyers, or I should say the team I now have from Luke's case, will keep all photos of the girls hidden, even those on private accounts won't last more than a few seconds.

I turn back to Harry, as he once again attempts to wipe the tears that keep falling against his will. He stands up, completely ignoring me. Instead he faces away, speaking emotionless. "I'll call and get everything set up so we fly back in a few hours." He drops that bomb and attempts to walk away. Our trip isn't over for another three days.