𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝙼𝚎 (𝙽𝚘𝚝) - 𝚉𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢

chapter ix.

"What?" Harry breathes out. "When did he write this?"

"When he did his PhD," Gemma answers. "So basically when Sadie was around a year old."

"What's it about?" Harry asks, turning the medium-sized sunflower yellow paperback in his hands.

"It's a novel," Gemma replies. "It's short stories. Most of them have a bit of your relationship in them. It's actually pretty fucking brilliant. I'm sure he's gonna tell you about it, or you'll remember, but his PhD dissertation was a bit ambitious and his advisor warned him it had a bit too much of a creative writing vibe but he pulled it off. This is the accompanying piece for it. Something about how it's better to analyze short stories by the same author as a connected anthology, like, dunno, American Horror Story, and not completely separate pieces. Of course not like the plot is connected but, I don't know, obviously I'm shit at analyzing literature."

"I wish I didn't have to do this," Harry sighs. "Learn about the relationship I have with my husband through a book he wrote. I just want to be back home. But I can't be."

"Give it a bit of time," Gemma nudges him with her elbow, smiling. "You've been remembering things, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Then don't worry," she puts her hand on his knee. "You wooed the pants off Zayn once, you can do it again. Besides, you have two children you both love more than anything. Sadie and Noah connected you even more than just your relationship. Seriously, after you already had Sadie, you two became like fucking Siamese twins. I felt like you both dropped 'I' from your vocabulary because everything was just 'we, we, we'. It was sickening."

"Fine, I'll read the book," Harry smiles a little. "I'll do it tonight. Then I'm gonna dig through my iCloud and Instagram from before we had kids."

"Great plan," Gemma agrees. "Now let's go make something before mum gets back from Emily's. I'm starving. Airplane food is the worst."

Harry laughs. So Gemma hasn't changed much in the seven years that have vanished from him.

xxx

When it gets dark, Anne leaves Gemma and Harry alone downstairs, to catch up and what not. Gemma immediately sees it as an opportunity to bring out some alcohol as if they were rowdy teenagers again. Because of the medication Harry has to take after the accident, he can't drink so they make raspberry lemonade and Gemma spikes her glass with a bit of vodka. They settle down on the patio without any lights on. Evie's purring in Harry's lap as she sleeps.

"Why did I take Zayn's last name when we got married?" Harry asks her once he's tired of recounting what he remembers and what he doesn't.

"Oh ho, that one was good," Gemma laughs. "You thought it was romantic. He suggested hyphenating your names but you were adamant that you wanted to take his name. But first, you made me promise that when I get married and have kids, I'm gonna keep my last name."

"Really?" Harry furrows his brows. "Why?"

"Dunno, probably something about gender roles," Gemma shrugs and takes a sip of her drink. "I don't mind, we gotta continue the name somehow, yeah? What can I do when my baby brother is a bloody romantic who lives in a Rosamunde Pilcher novel?"

"Oh, c'mon," Harry goes to lightly kick her. Evie makes a sound in protest at the movement. "Sorry," Harry whispers to the cat and pets her. "It's kinda nice, actually."

"Changing all your uni paperwork when you were doing your masters wasn't nice," Gemma scoffs. "Everyone assumed you married like, an old rich bloke and then when they found out you married someone your age who was also a student they just thought you were mad."