CW: talks of date rape drugs and the usage of them. conversation surrounding terminal illness and palliative/end of life care.
If you need to skip this chapter for any reason, I will include a small recap at the start of the next chapter. Sorry it's heavy. But hey! Last Winter chapter.
☾☾☾
And I hate to make this all about me
But who am I supposed to talk to?
What am I supposed to do
If there's no you?
☾☾☾
December 25th 1997
Harry's P.O.V.
My whole world came to a grinding halt thirty seconds ago when a velvet ring box was placed in my hand. I heard this saying once, if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans. And here he is, laughing in stupid face. I've never claimed to know the future. Any vision or idea I had of what my future looked like went out the window when I met Jaime. I knew in my drunken, crying haze, that even if I only spoke to her that one night, nothing was ever going to be the same.
I stopped imagining my future the day I left the shore, because to even think of a life without those people seemed fundamentally wrong. Time is passing. Memories are growing distant. Still, my future seems hazy.
Until now. My mom looks at me expectantly but I can't take my eyes off the box. I'm terrified of opening it, because if what is inside is what I think it is, my future will become crystal clear. And it's not one I want.
Gathering all my courage, I finally ask, "What's this?"
"Currently it's a box but maybe if you open it, there will be something inside it." She looks out of place in my apartment, like she's got one foot out of the door. She doesn't understand why I would want to live here when I can have a bedroom at home that is bigger than my entire place here.
I run the risk and open it. If nothing else, it will get her out of here sooner. The box contains exactly what I feared. Blinding me as it reflects the sun, "this is a ring."
"I can't believe I ever doubted your intelligence," she scoffs.
"Why did you hand me this giant sparkling ring?" I don't even know why I'm asking. It's like I can hear Jaime in my head say, ask stupid questions, get stupid answers.
In a predictable moment from my mother, she answers my question with another question. "You don't recognize it?"
It looks slightly familiar, but I can't place it. "Should I?"
Done with our game of questions, she finally gives an inch of information. "It was your grandmother's. She wanted you to have it."
I try to stay on my toes around her, but this has completely rocked me. "Me? Even though I have two older sisters that would have loved this ring and have already gotten married, you're giving this ring to me, your single youngest born son. Wait - grandma's not even dead."
She pinches the pressure points above her nose. "Please don't remind me that you're still single. Yes, Harry. I'm giving it to you."
I can't deal with her non answers. "Again, I ask, why?"
"For Alice, obviously."
"Alice?" Is she passing her headache to me?
"Now it sounds like you're doubting my intelligence which brings us all the way around to questioning your intelligence. Do you think I don't know she spends the night at your apartment? Do you think I don't notice how you spend every function, gala, event clinging to one another as if the room is full of sharks. You love her. Or you're fucking her. Whichever it is, I frankly don't care as long as that ring is on her finger come spring."
"Weren't you the one who told me to stay away from Alice?"
"And what did you do? Run as fast as you could to her."
Even without knowing her motives, I cannot be shocked that she was pulling strings. "This was your plan all along. Were you even worried about trying to get her father's business? Or was that part of your scheme too?"
She curls her fingers in front of her lips, replaying all the steps in her head to herself. "No, that was tricky as well. Mr. Van Baker isn't my biggest fan, but that is not important to this conversation. However, if you get that ring on her finger, and that girl down the aisle, I won't have to worry about their account. They'd be family."
"Mother, she's eighteen. She's still in high school!"
She's done with the scoffing and harrumphing now. She does what she does best, turns to ice and looks down on me even though I'm a few inches taller. She's shown too many cards acting upset with me. That time is over. Now she lays out what she wants with the expectation that I will deliver no matter the task. "I'm well aware of her education status. Honestly, hearing she wasn't going away to college was a blessing because it makes all this much easier. She'll be here, bored out of her mind working for her father. Eventually, you can convince her she doesn't have to work. You could even start working for her father's company. There are so many doors that open once we align ourselves with the Van Bakers."
There it is. The task she was dancing around so elegantly. "You want me to marry this girl for a business decision."
"Yes! Now you're getting it." Sure, mother. Make it seem like it was my idea.
"There is no way-" I can't protest before she cuts me off.
"Before you finish that sentence, and really make me angry on Christmas morning, know this. There are worse wives out there. To what degree you're truly involved with this girl, it doesn't matter. You like her. She adores the ground you walk on. Why? Don't ask me. But she does. That utter bellend has done more for you than you will ever know. If you won't do this for me, do this for her."
Do this for her? There are so many things I could do for Alice, marriage isn't one of them. Her entire life everyone has made choices for her, who am I to take another one from her?
"I am far from the best thing for Alice. She deserves much better."
"Better than you? Maybe, but that's not relevant. You owe more to her than you will ever know. I'm finished with this conversation. I'm not saying propose tonight. Christmas proposals are tacky. But she better have that rock on her finger when she walks across the stage for her graduation. Now get ready. We leave for the Van Bakers' in two hours."
And with her final command, she storms out the door.
Marry Alice? It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. Without my permission, my mind floods with images of us like the perfect couple my mother wants and I immediately know that couldn't be us. If I asked Alice to stay home, cook, and clean she'd roll her eyes, yell at me about the patriarchy, and then do it anyway. I couldn't make her happy, but I could make her comfortable. If we were together, she'd never want for anything. Marrying Alice would be like buying an exotic bird to keep it in a cage. She needs to spread her wings. Her father has clipped them long enough.
Before I can put the ring away in my drawer, a faint knock hits the door that separates the apartment from the stairs to the studio. I open it as fast as I can. Augustine's been having a hard time with the stairs, and lately her treatment has made her feel so weak, she can't yell up to me to meet her down stairs. I don't want her standing there longer than she has to.
My heart drops for the second time today when I see her. She's looking significantly worse than when I saw her the other day. How could she decline so quickly? I'm too lost mentally assessing her health, that I forget about the elephant in the velvet box on my counter. And she may be sick, but she's not blind.
"That's a big rock."
I help her down to the couch. She winces like everything hurts. I would do anything to take her pain away. "You can say that again."
"You should probably hide that before Alice sees it and gets any ideas." A small smile crosses her face. She wants to laugh but even that hurts.
"It's for her." I sit on the armchair across from her.
"Really?" Her eyebrows raise, pretending that she is shocked. She mulls it over for a moment before saying, "You could do worse." I can only nod my head in agreement.
"My mother just informed me that she used reverse psychology to push me toward Alice. And now she wants me to propose to her so that our families are aligned like we're in the mafia."
"Well, are you going to do it?" She rubs her thin arms and I jump up to wrap her in a blanket. Even though I've been keeping it extra warm in here in case she decides to come over, her body has been struggling with circulation.
"What do you think I should do?" I ask as I tuck her in.
She flattens me with a look. "It's not a matter of what you should do, it's what you want to do. You can propose to Alice or not. If you don't you'll piss off your mom, but when have you ever cared about that? But also, if you do, marriage will be one less thing you have to worry about. You make each other happy. People have married for less. Who knows? Maybe you'll fall in love."
I don't mention how I don't think love is in the cards for me anymore.
"Why'd you come up here?"
"I have a present for you," she smiles.
"You didn't have to get me anything." With every sentence I feel like someone pokes another needle into my balloon of a heart, slowly letting it deflate.
"It's more for me than you," she says as she pulls something from out of her pocket and under the blanket. I take the small piece of paper from her and read it. It's an invitation to an art exhibit. My art exhibit. She got me booked at a fancy museum in Brooklyn so I can exhibit my work. I can even sell some. I know art will only be a hobby, but getting the chance to share it with people, even once, means more to me than I can put into words.
"This is amazing. I can't thank you enough. But why is this also for you? Taking credit for creating me?" I joke. My head is still reeling that one of my biggest dreams is coming true.
"I'm dying."
I feel the color drain from my body. I think I might be sick. I knew she wasn't feeling well just by looking at her, but I didn't know it was this bad.
"I thought things were getting better." A solemn look comes over my face. The person who has been more like a mother to me than the person who gave birth to me, is dying. I am going to have to live without her a lot sooner than I anticipated.
I expect to see my heartbreak reflected onto her, but all I find is calm. Acceptance. She's known about this for some time.
"I did too. But then one day, something wasn't right. And they say no one knows your body better than yourself. I went to the doctor and he confirmed that it is back and it's not getting better. Said I have maybe four months."
"No. No, that can't be right." Emotions fire through me at an alarming pace. I want to punch a wall to release everything that is pent up inside of me. I want to collapse to the ground, lay my head on her lap, and pray for a miracle. I can't lose the first person who taught me how to truly love.
"It's not right. But it's okay." She starts laughing and singing. She's shimmying her shoulders, singing the song as a rogue tear falls down my cheek.
I swallow down the urge to cry as I laugh with her. "You did not just start singing Whitney Houston moments after telling me that you're dying."
With what little strength she does have, she gets off the couch and wraps her arms around me. I resist the urge to fall into her, only because her frail body cannot handle any additional wait. Her fingers comb through my hair as she calms me down. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin your Christmas. Terrible timing on my part, but the invitations came in and I couldn't wait to show you. Plus, it didn't feel right keeping it from you. And I refuse to leave the mortal plane before seeing your work displayed properly. Do this for me. The show is on New Year's Eve. We'll throw a big party and go out in style. The invitations are in a big box downstairs. Invite whoever you'd like. I don't know how much time I've got, but I am making damn sure I get to see your work. After that, who knows."
Still holding her close to me, I whisper, "I don't know how to process this."
She holds my face in her delicate hand. "My sweet boy, you don't have to know how. It'll be awful. I can almost guarantee it. And my only regret is that I won't be here to help you through it. But remember, every time you miss me, don't. Because I'll always be with you, and you with me. Our souls will meet again."
I silently sob as she continues to hold me. I feel my clothes soak with tears. I don't know how long it takes for me to get it together, but I need to get ready to leave soon.
Augustine brushes my tears away one more time before letting me go. "Just promise me one thing."
"Anything."
"No matter how much of a corporate shill your mother turns you into, pick up a paintbrush every once and awhile."
All I can do is nod and I place a soft kiss on her cheek before helping her down the stairs.
I run back up and get ready to leave. I try my best to keep my mind off Augustine, but find myself stopping every few minutes to compose myself. I slip out the door minutes later, but not before grabbing a certain velvet box.
☽☽☽
The night at the Van Bakers goes by quickly. It seem Mrs. Van Baker took a page from my mom's book and had the evening catered. Knowing what I know about her, I'm grateful.
Our parents had been adamant about not exchanging presents. I was shocked but then I realized that they would be willingly entering into a battle of one upping each other at every future holiday, trying to get the other a more impressive present. Alice and I exchanged presents the other day. I got her some more books, including a beautifully illustrated copy of Alice in Wonderland. I also told her that I would play chauffeur for her and Maddie whenever they wanted to go somewhere, which I already did. Alice gave me the very nice watch currently on my wrist and some new art supplies. Not that I needed them, but I thought it was sweet that she thought of me.
Approximately 20 minutes after dessert was finished, my parents decided they had had enough. They said their goodbyes, but I decided to hang back. I needed to get Alice alone as soon as possible.
I don't know where her parents went, but this house was so big they could be on opposite ends hiding from one another. Alice made us hot chocolate before we went upstairs to her room. Not that we needed the privacy, but I didn't want to keep looking over my shoulder waiting for her dad to appear.
The moment Alice sat on the bed I leaned against her door to make sure it was closed. "We need to talk. We're in check."
"What?" She tried to take a sip of her hot chocolate, but it was so hot it burnt her tongue. She was doing that cute thing where she breathed like a dragon to try and take away the burn. I'd focus more on it if I wasn't so on edge with everything today.
I place my hot chocolate on her desk before pacing the room. "Remember how you said that this life feels like a chess game, and you wanted to be a player?" She nods her head while blowing on her hot drink. "Well, we went up against my mother without knowing it, and she put us in check."
Alice sits up and places her mug on her night stand. "How so?"
"She has a way of making every one of her ideas seem like someone else."
Alice, with her magical way of knowing what I'm saying without saying, reads between the lines. "What'd she say to you?"
"Many things. But there's one in particular I can't stop thinking about."
"Care to elaborate?"
"She said you've done more for me than I will ever know. Care to elaborate?"
Even though we're alone in her room, with the door closed, and the closest person hundreds of feet away, she still whispers. Fear lights her eyes like my mother is going to pop out of her closet. "She'd kill me if I told you."
"I doubt that. She's trying to push us together. If anything she wants you to tell me."
Her eyes dart back and forth like she is doing math in her head. "That is extremely confusing and sounds like you're manipulating me into telling you something."
"No. Look." I cross the room and sit on her bed. I kick my shoes off before sitting sideways and leaning in close. "Forget about what my mother wants for two seconds. We're a team. And our only chance of beating her is if we work together. And we need all the information. We only hurt our chances if we keep stuff from each other."
She lets out a deep sigh. She looks defeated. "I don't even know what we're trying to win."
I hold her hands in mine. "Freedom. Happiness. The ability to make our own choices."
She mulls it over before nodding her head. Her eyes glaze over and I worry she's about to cry. "Okay. Fine. But you're really not going to like it."
I doubt anything she's going to tell me will be worse than the news that was dropped on me this morning. But I take it anyway."Of course I'm not. Merry freakin' Christmas. Lay it on me."
"Okay, but you asked for it."
Flashback. Harry is 16. Alice is 13. This was the last time they saw each other before Alice "moved" to Europe.
Alice's stomach still drops when she thinks of this night. Which makes sense since it was, to date, the worst night of her life. There were times she wished that she could block it out, but that would mean willingly giving up her last memory of Harry, and that is something she clutched onto with everything she had.
The hard part of this story is that Alice didn't understand the ramifications of this night. Even at her current age of 18, pieces don't quite make sense to her.
From the moment she walked in, she knew it was going to be a bad night. Her teenage heart beat solely for Harry and seeing him slow dances with another girl had Alice contemplating if her heart had stopped beating all together. Quickly, she pieced together all the information she needed. This must be Sarah, the girl Harry mentioned he was sort of dating.
Alice wanted to stomp her foot. She wanted to cry. Because even though she knew their age differences meant they couldn't date, at least not for a long time, her immature heart didn't want to see him with anyone else. Her own voice whined in her head, "she already gets his attention outside of events! Why does she also get him here?"
She stared at them, swaying for a moment. It didn't look awkward like it was with Alice because she barely came up to Harry's chin, whereas Sarah seemed to slide in quite nicely. And even though this was Alice's Harry, the part that hurt the most was the fact that they were dancing in the middle of the dance floor. Her father would never allow her to dance in front of guests. Any time she did she got chastised for it. Alice's favorite memories were the ones of her dancing with Harry in secret hidden hallways. Replaying those memories are what got her through nights of her parents arguing, things being thrown and broken, and times where she was overall forgotten. Harry had never forgotten about her.
But now he had. Because he had someone else to give his attention to. But Alice wasn't going to cry. She'd had a birthday since Harry last saw her. She was officially a teenager. And she couldn't have the first teenage act Harry associated with her crying!
Alice pushed her shoulders back and raised her chin like she's seen her father do so many times before, and made her way into the ballroom. Thankfully, her father at least pretended that he liked her that night. Normally he anticipated her running off, and preferred it because he never worried about her. Now that she was becoming a woman, doing better at holding conversations with adults, he actually seemed proud to have a daughter. Maybe not proud of her specifically, but acknowledging her presence was huge in her eyes.
She spent the night dodging Harry, not wanting to have to make nice with Sarah. You could call her immature, but I would like to remind you that she was thirteen. Imagine if we held you accountable for how you acted around your crush at thirteen. But she couldn't help the way that her eye was drawn to them. And what she saw next was what changed everything.
While Harry was looking the other way, Sarah plopped something into his drink. It fizzed for the smallest moment, but was disguised by whatever soda they were drinking. Alice may have been young, but she wasn't stupid. And if there was one thing she heard her father yell over and over again at her mother, it was do not mix pills with water.
She didn't know what the pill was, or what its effects were. But to reduce it to its simplest form - Harry was in danger, and she needed to do something about it.
Plastering on the best smile she could, she abruptly excused herself from the conversation her father was having with a colleague. She wasn't adding much to the conversation. In fact, her departure included more words than she had spoken in the past hour.
One of the foundations of Alice and Harry's friendship was bonding over their complicated relationships with their parents. Even when they were younger and didn't have the vocabulary to describe it all, they understood one another without speaking. When it came down to it, she liked to think that if she was in danger, her parents would jump into action. Alice knew that Harry and his mom weren't particularly close, but she had to hope that she would care that her son was in danger. Skittering around the ballroom as fast as she could without causing alarm, Alice made her way to Harry's mom. Funny how the woman that terrified her the most was the only person she could go to for help. You find the most unlikely allies when your own hero needs saving.
"Mrs. Styles?" Alice asked, interrupting a conversation Erin was having with a few other adults. It was terribly rude, but Alice couldn't waste time on formalities. Not when all she could think about was something bad happening to Harry. "I apologize for interrupting, but I need to speak with you."
Erin barely spared her a glance, her lips pinching in annoyance. She quickly recovered with a smile to the men she was talking to and said, "One moment dear," and picked up her conversation like Alice hadn't interrupted in the first place.
Alice tried to wait for a lull in the conversation, but after thirty seconds she saw Harry drink from the glass and knew it was a now or never situation.
"Ma'am, there's something wrong with Harry." That certainly silenced her. Excusing herself, Erin deceptively grabbed Alice's wrist, making it look like she was walking away with her somewhere, but was holding on much too tight. Alice would worry she might bruise if her mind hadn't been so preoccupied with Harry.
Once they were far enough away from prying eyes and ears, Harry's mother leaned down to Alice with a look that had her convinced she was about to get slapped.
"You have ten seconds to explain yourself."
With that sentence, puzzle pieces slide into place, revealing a clearer picture of Harry's mother and why his relationship was the way it was. She didn't care that he might actually be in danger, but that this danger could cause a scene and make her look bad. Mrs. Styles looked at her expectantly, silently saying your time is almost up when Alice spewed the sentence that would change all of their lives for good.
"I saw Sarah slip a pill in Harry's drink."
Her eyes narrowed at Alice. Looking at the scene around her, Erin knew the best way to get her point across. She leaned down, hugged Alice in her arms, and then whispered in her ear, "If you care at all for Harry, you won't speak a word of this."
Harry's P.O.V.
December 25th 1997
"That's it?"
Alice's eyes practically bug out of her head at my reaction. "What do you mean that's it? It's a pretty traumatic story."
I huff out a long breath, running my hands through my hair. I can't wrap my mind around it. Or the fact that Sarah would do something like that. Not that I don't trust Alice, but she was telling a story from five years ago when she was thirteen. But perhaps my biggest question is, why did my mother hire Sarah last year if she knew about this.
"I'm not trying to minimize it, but I feel like we're missing something. I'm struggling to process it all. I guess that's why I don't remember much of that night."
"In the moment, I didn't think there was any other option. If I slapped the drink out of your hand, that would've caused a commotion. Plus I was keen on avoiding you that night. I couldn't do nothing. I'm sorry, I thought I was doing the right thing."
"You have nothing to apologize for. You saw your friend in trouble and you went to an adult for help. You've always been so brave and so mature for your age. It may have felt wrong, but you did the right thing."
I try to push through the haze of that night but it's still black nothingness.
"Then why ship me off to Europe?"
."What?"
"I know we've been spending a lot of time together, but there was a big chunk of your life that I wasn't here. Remember? I just got back from being in Europe for five years?"
"Yeah, but you told me your father did that because he was taking the company international."
She shrugs her shoulders. "That's what I was told too. But as I've gotten older and replayed that night, I can't help but think the two are connected. We were packed and on a plane within the week. My father is a lot of things, but spontaneous isn't one of them, especially when it comes to his business."
"You think my mother had something to do with it?"
"I don't know what I think, but history dictates it would be stupid to think there's something your mother isn't capable of."
"There's so many moving parts, I don't even know how to keep track of it all."
Alice's face lights up and her smile is evidence that she's thought of something. Jumping up from her bed she bends down and pulls out an old chess set. She opens the box and begins setting up pieces where they definitely don't belong. She throws most of the pieces back in the box leaving only 5 on the board with a few off to the side to add on. She presents the board with twinkle fingers like I'm supposed to know exactly what she means. And I do.
Crossing her legs on her bed she leans over the board. "We've been using the metaphor long enough, maybe this will help us visualize. Okay, so I'm the pawn."
I stop her hand from moving the small piece, "no, no. If we're doing this, you aren't the pawn. You have to be the queen." Pawns play a role in chess, but not a super important one. They're disposable. Made to get rid of. That's not Alice.
She smiles at me and lets go off the wooden figure in her hand. "Don't you think your mom should be the queen?"
"Make her the King. Even here she'll move the least but pull the most focus. It's fitting." She began rearranging the pieces on the board, already having some map in her head. "Which one am I?" I ask, surveying the remaining pieces.
"The knight, obviously." I wasn't sure how it was obvious, but I let her mess with the pieces.
Before we got into it, I remembered the small box poking a hole in my pants. I slipped it out and stuck it out for Alice to take.
"Is this-?"
"It's a key to the studio and apartment. I know you already come and go as you please, but I wanted you to have it, for situations when I'm not there."
She places the box on her night stand. "Why wouldn't you be there? Like if you were at work? That's usually when I'm at school anyway. Not that I'm not grateful, it's just-"
I cut her off and explained everything that is going on with Augustine. She already knows most of it because she's been by my side these last few months, but explaining that she's dying and there is nothing I can do to stop it is harder than I imagined. I didn't cry. I'd run out of tears for the day. I felt numb to it all. But Alice needed to know that I was probably going to be moving into Augustine's place, or at least spending most nights there.
And Alice, my sweet girl, immediately started thinking of ways to help me all while holding my hand. She said she knew of a palliative care facility that did house calls from when her grandma was sick.
Augustine's words from earlier today fly around my head. You make each other happy. People have married for less. Who knows? Maybe you'll fall in love.
I'm not sure about falling in love, but I do love Alice. My mother was right, I owe Alice more than I'll know. There's nothing I wouldn't do for her.
Later that night, after we spent hours messing with the chess pieces, going over what each of us knew about that night, she eventually fell asleep on my shoulder. She had to be exhausted from today. I was too, but I was running on pure adrenaline. I wasn't sure how I was going to sleep with everything up in the air.
Right before leaving, I remembered something Alice had told me once. I wanted to make Alice happy, and this was the first in making that happen. I cleaned up the chess pieces and tucked blankets around her. Once I made sure was dead asleep, I pulled out the manilla envelope hidden at the bottom of her desk drawer and ran out like a thief in the night.
A/N
Thank you all for your continued support and love us this story. Nearing the end of part one - but we're just getting started.
Might have to take a week or two off from posting. My life kinda fell apart (had to move, got my stuff stolen, endless pits of loneliness, etc.) I'm trying so hard. Thank you for reading. It means more to me than you know.
Meet you at the Precipice.
Oli x