Un-Tying the Knot {h.s.}

Chapter 36

"Harry!?"

A voice calls down the stairs, but he ignores it, keeping his eyes closed so he can see the lights, hear the crowd roar with adulation, feel the energy he had been so close to forgetting not even two weeks before. He holds onto it, living in the poignant memory as his fingers trickle down the keys.

Well, my life — it keeps on spinning.
In this drunken procession,
I can't learn my lessons.
These plates that I'm spinning,
soon they'll smash on the ground,
make a loud crashing sound.

But I am still an open book,
and you can have a secret look inside.

He pauses briefly, he can almost hear the roar of the audience, the chants of young fans screaming his name.

"Umm...Harry?"

"I am still an open book...and you can have a secret look..." he trails, never wanting the moment to end — just like all those nights ago, the nights that turned into years — never wanting the song to end, never wanting to take his last bow.

"HARRY!! ISABELLE HAS BEEN CALLING YOU FOR TEN MINUTES!"

He cringes at the sound of Eleanor's yelling, his eyes snapping open to see that Isabelle, is indeed, standing at the top of the stairs, looking across the vastness of the Great Room at him, unsure of herself. Her long dark hair falls over her small shoulders, her dark eyes slightly scared and he's immediately reminded of when Olivia first started working for them, standing in that exact same spot as Eleanor's newest assistant.

"...inside," he finishes with a flourish, fingers cascading up and down the keys while Eleanor's bare feet start slapping against the marble staircase.

"Honestly, Harry," she scolds as she comes into view. She's dressed in a fluffy white bathrobe, her hair in curlers with a base layer of light foundation. Even in her most simple of forms, she's gorgeous. "You have your whole life to play that damn piano. Your birthday party starts in 30 minutes, and you're still in your pajamas."

"Calm down, honey...all I have to do is put on my tux," he offers, standing from the piano bench while both Eleanor and Isabelle watch him in disapproval.

"And fix your hair, and pick out your cuff links..."

"And that will take at most twenty minutes, giving me ten minutes to play my 'damn piano,'" he smiles, walking over to Eleanor has her face starts to turn red. "Hey, calm down. Aren't you the one who loves to be fashionably late?"

Eleanor flares at him before gritting her teeth and letting out an exasperated sigh, turning on her heel and stomping down the stairs. Harry can't help but grin.

Over the past several weeks, he's been absolutely amazed by the shift in Eleanor's behavior. It hasn't been perfect, by any means, but it has changed. She still nags him, but stops immediately if asked. If she starts to throw a tantrum, he'll chastise her and she'll stomp away in a huff until she can calm herself down. She still insists on getting her way, but will bend — even if it's reluctantly at first. It's not perfect, but it's a start. And for the first time in a long time, Harry feels as if this might actually work. That this could be what he wants. That forever with Eleanor isn't that scary. That his girl, his girl, is finally coming back.

"ISABELLE!!" Eleanor yells, and the girl doesn't so much as jump as she does propel herself four inches off the ground before scurrying her way downstairs. "Really, I know you're new but..."

Her voice is cut off by the loud gong of the doorbell, both of the women shrieking.

"Who on earth would be ringing the doorbell right now?" Eleanor groans, hand covering her neck because she's not prepared to be seen by anyone. She just stares at her new assistant, as if wondering when she was going to take the hint — but she just stares at the door in shock. "Well!?"