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Gabby's POV

"Marry me."

I looked back up from my book, a mixture of anger and shock on my face, "You've got to be shitting me."

I closed my book and held it in my hand as I stood up from the bench.

"You cheated on me four days after my dad died. You knew how much of a wreck I was and yet you did it anyway. But maybe that was because you thought you wouldn't get caught. I honestly don't give a damn anymore. I gave you chances and you just throw reasons at me to never do that again. I mean, I don't even think you really love me and here you are asking me to marry you? I'd have to be really stupid to say yes."

"I know you're mad, and you have ever right to be, but-"

"Mad? No, Harry. I'm just fine actually. I've moved on and you should too."

"Dammit, let me finish! I came all the fucking way here because I can't live without you. I did it for two weeks and I became complete shit. You want an apology? I’m sorry about your dad. I’m not sorry for anything else. The only reason I even touched that girl was because she knew who recorded us that night and someone did have a tape too. She wouldn’t tell me unless I did something for her and that’s what it was. So, no, I’m not sorry for making out with her. I’m not sorry that I ever kissed you. I’m not sorry for sleeping with you. I’m not sorry that I’m an asshole. I’m not sorry for lying to you because I was protecting you. I’m not sorry that I let you leave because it made me realise that I can’t do this without you. And I’m not sorry that I’m falling in love with you.”

“You do realise that I’m only eighteen? I’ll only be nineteen in about a month.”

“I asked you to marry me. I didn’t say it had to be today or tomorrow. Hell, it doesn’t have to be a year from now. All I’m asking is that you will because I don’t know how I’m going to live without knowing that you’re mine and that you love me as much as I love you.”

“You know that I love you, Harry. But I…I can’t marry you.”

“Why?”

“Because…I told you that I moved on. I’m in a relationship.”

“Then get out of it.”

“I can’t…I really like him.”

“Do you love him?”

“I don’t know; I just met him last Wednesday.”

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