Chapter 92

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Songs:

Two Lovers: Mary Wells

I Hate You, I Love You Again: Emily West

One: Ed Sheeran

If I Ain't Got You: Alicia Keys

Yellow: Coldplay


A.J.'s POV

Throughout my grandpa's two day stay, Harry had been, surprisingly, on his best behavior. He was acting a lot better than he had when my sister was here. His attentive manners were back, along with his smile that I missed so much. I knew it would be gone the moment my grandpa walked out the door, but it didn't stop the flutter in my heart and the blush that overtook my cheeks. My subconscious was quick to point out that that was just a reaction to how attractive he was, but I knew it was more than that. I was still in love with him, that was clear now. If the way my body still felt little jolts of electricity whenever he was close enough, wasn't enough proof of that, this should be.

This itty bitty proof was enough to fully convince me that this was just a rough patch we were going through, just like he said. Sooner or later we were going to work this out and be okay again. Maybe it was naive thinking, but it was what I decided to hold onto.

I watched my grandfather with teary eyes as he packed his bags. His plane was later tonight and he wanted to have everything ready before we went out to an early dinner. I was a little peeved that he wasn't staying longer, but he literally was just making a pit stop on his way to visit his sick brother in, Spain.

"Why are you crying?" His deep voice startled me out of my trance. "Ven. Come here,"' he repeated in English, using both hands to call me over.

I followed his instructions, dragging my feet like a reluctant, small child who wasn't happy with the current situation. "I just miss you," I sighed, wrapping my arms around him once I was snuggled up against him. "I don't want you to leave."

"I don't either, mijita," he admitted, squeezing me tight. "But, I have to," he sighed. "Now, the question is; are you going to be honest with me before I leave, or are you going to let me leave, thinking that you convinced me that everything is okay."

I pulled away from him, slightly, my arms still around him, but my head pulled back so I could get a better look at his face. "What are you talking about?" I had the nerve to play dumb.

He chuckled lightly, moving his left hand from me. "As much as I'd love to believe that these tears," he wiped away the tears away from under my eyes with his thumb, "are for me, I know they aren't." He shook his head, his gentle smile slightly fading. "There is something in here," he pointed to my heart with his index finger, "that is causing this."

"Abuelito, I-"

"No need to make excuses, I've been around long enough, Katarina. You young people may think you have it all figured out, that you guys are the only ones to suffer, but you are not." He sighed, again, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, patting the seat next to him. I hesitated a bit, but, again, dragged my feet until I sat down on the empty space next to him. "When my first wife died," he continued, draping one arm over my shoulders. "I was a mess, she was my everything," he smiled at the memory. "I shut everyone out, even my own children, when they needed me the most. And, Harry, he's doing that to you, now."

"We're fine," I tried my best to lie. It killed me, but what else was I supposed to say to him? The truth was not an option in this case.

"Ah, yes, the love is still there. It's easy to see it when you guys look at each other, but there is also so much pain. It's understandable that he's hurting and grieving, but that doesn't give him the excuse to treat you in a way that makes you hurt and feel pain. More than you are already feeling."

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