I've managed to convince Freya not to tell my mum everything that happened in Vegas. It takes a lot of convincing and it proves to be harder than I initially thought as I have to come up with reasons as to why I don't want my mum to find out about Harry and I when this news is exactly what she would want to hear. Freya clearly doesn't know my mum that well because if she ever finds out that I've gotten married in Vegas, she wouldn't think twice to cut me into pieces.
Granted, when Harry spoke to her, she immediately promised me that she wouldn't say a word to my mum especially about my marriage – bloody Harry and his charm.
Thinking of it all, those who weren't in Vegas don't have to know anything because Harry and I have agreed to get a lawyer as soon as we return to London – his lawyer, because apparently no one can beat his – and this thing will be over before more people including our families can find out.
Given that we've agreed to get a divorce soon, I almost told Freya the truth, for I don't like keeping things from her, but each time I almost do so, Harry would stop me. And because he doesn't trust me, he decides to keep his eyes on me and since everyone assumes that we're married, no one thinks it's weird that he's not leaving my side.
It isn't until we're at the airport, waiting for our flight that has been delayed for two hours, that I decide I've had enough of Harry following me or watching my every move. He's making me feel restless.
"I think you need to stop following me," I tell him as I slump down into an uncomfortable waiting area chair with a bottle of water in hand. Taking a sip of the water, I turn to him next and say, a smirk gracing my lips. "My lips are sealed, trust me."
Instead of standing in front of me like a bodyguard, Harry chooses to occupy the seat next to me and crinkles his nose at me, "Sorry, love, I don't think I can trust you after what you've tried to do."
All I've ever tried to do so far is tell the truth to my best friend, but Harry is having none of it. And I'm positive that it has everything to do with the fact that he does not understand how mine and Freya's friendship works.
Alas, because I'm tired of going in circles – both of us refuse to back down – I decide to change the subject. "If I didn't know you better, Harry, I'd say you're actually into me," I kink an eyebrow at him, a mischievous smile sliding onto my lips. "You are, aren't you?"
Harry shakes his head as he mirrors my expression, "Oh sweetheart, I can assure you that you're wrong."
"Hmm," I hum, giving him a sideway glance. "I find that hard to believe."
Harry rolls his eyes and leans against the chair, "Believe whatever you want, love."
"Don't call me love," I smack my lips together, frowning at him.
"So you prefer sweetheart, hmm?"
"You're despicable," I mutter, earning a smirk from him. Before he gets the chance to say another word that can undoubtedly weave its way under my skin, I ask, "Why does it matter to you if I tell Frey the truth, huh? S'not like we're gonna stay married."
And at that, he swivels his body so he's facing me and his brows pucker as though he's contemplating something. Although he hasn't said anything yet, I have a hunch that I will not like it – whatever it is. But as always, my curiosity gets the best of me and I kink an eyebrow at him, a cue for him to say what he wants to say.
Harry lets out a sigh, rubbing a hand down his face. I notice the absence of ring on his finger and I smile. Good. "I might've changed my mind ab-"
"Ooooh are you two planning your honeymoon?" Lisa interrupts at the wrong time, appearing out of nowhere.
Her large blue eyes dart from me to Harry and for once, I don't welcome the distraction nor do I welcome her enthusiasm. As much as I fear to hear what Harry has to say earlier, I realise that my need to know it weighs everything else. Unfortunately, with Lisa wedging herself between us, there's no way he's talking. He's got his lips sealed already.
