The glee on Harry's face would rival that of the person who will eventually score the winning goal for England in the Euro Cup finals. His eyes light up, his lips widen, and that dimple deepens on his left cheek. His eyes flit to mine, wonder filling them like gold dust swirling in a sunbeam as his hand shifts slightly, pressing further into my belly as the bairn repeatedly kicks at it like they're practising kickboxing with Harry holding the paddle.
My heart swells at the moment. It's one example of the many precious moments we'll have and never be able to recreate again. Oh, sure, with other children, they will kick, and Harry will press his hand to my belly in glee, but there's nothing like the first time.
Ms. Porter clears her throat, and Harry grimaces, leaning over to give me a quick chaste kiss before whispering in my ear, "I wish I could do that all day."
Me too, my love. Me too.
As he exits the exam room with my empty plate and glass, it's a reminder of the fact that he's going to miss so many of these special first moments while he's on tour, and there's nothing I can do about that. Perhaps I can create a little journal or book or photo album of them? As soon as I consider the idea, I discard it. There's no way I'll have time between working and taking care of the baby. My heart droops like a mother bird whose nest has been raided.
Taking a deep breath, I focus my attention back on Ms. Porter's pup as I prepare for the neutering surgery. This poor puppy will never have the opportunity to know what it's like to be a father. My hand hesitates, and then I shake off the feeling. I'm a vet. This is what I do.
Hours later, after watching Paddy carefully lock the clinic door, I wander back to my home, my feet dragging, and my body a beached whale, finally granted a reprieve from the waves. Harry greets me at the door with a cup of tea, guiding me to the sofa where he invites me to swing my feet into his lap so he can remove my shoes and perform another foot rub. Contentedly, I sigh, sipping the hot liquid, grateful for someone who knows exactly what I need.
When Paddy unlocks and enters the kitchen door, I'm taken aback. Luckily, I've managed not to spill my tea. Nonchalantly, he plops into the armchair nearby.
"Ready?" he asks Harry, and I'm left as confused as a puppy encountering a leash for the first time.
"I think so," my boyfr– fiancé agrees.
Paddy turns his attention to me. "Here's the new safety plan. We agreed to lay it all out for you so you could identify any flaws or concerns before we launch it."
Oh. The events of the previous night flood into my brain again, and suddenly I'm less relaxed than I had been moments prior.
I take a deep breath in through my nose, blowing air out through my mouth as I make eye contact with Harry. "Okay. I'm ready."
Paddy nods. "First, we're going to have three staff on your security detail. I've already reached out to a couple of men who have been reliable in the past. We'll work three 8-hour shifts every day. That way, you'll always have security physically nearby. At the clinic, we'll stay out front where we can assess threats that come in the front door. Overnight, we'll stay awake and alert here in the kitchen, taking a walk around the outside of the property every hour. The swing shift will go wherever you need them. If you're still working, they'll be at the clinic. If you're home, they'll work from the kitchen."
I feel the constraints of the plan suffocating me, and I hold up my hand to take another deep breath. "For how long?" My gaze transfers between the two men and when neither of them answers immediately, I focus on Harry.
"Until we build our house, babe."
"Oh." I digest this news for a bit before nodding at Paddy. That's a long time, and I chafe at the idea of having extra men around while I'm dealing with the last stages of pregnancy and a new baby, but then I recall the look on that woman's face as she brandished her weapon, and I know it's the smart thing to do whether I'm happy about it or not. It might actually make me feel safer. "Go on," I encourage Paddy.
"There are no local security companies that can respond to an emergency or potential threat; however, we have contracted with a monitoring company out of Glasgow that will install cameras strategically around the property. They've got the personnel to keep an eye on the place 24-7."
"Is that going to freak out my clients?" I ask nervously.
"No reason for them to even know. The interior cameras will be discreet, and they won't be installed in private areas. Harry," he nods towards my fiancé, "has insisted that any exterior cameras blend in with the environment outside so that they aren't readily visible." He inhales and sits up tall. "The cameras will be visible to anyone looking for them though. Nothing can be done about that."
Both men fall silent, waiting for some sign from me that this is acceptable.
"How long will the install take? Will my team need to take time off? Will we need to reschedule clients?"
Again, Paddy looks to Harry before answering my questions. Harry has trapped my feet under his heavy arms, although he's no longer massaging them.
"Harry has paid for the company to install over a weekend, starting Friday night."
Likely at a premium, so I shouldn't complain.
"This Friday?" I ask sharply.
"If you wish," Harry replies.
Mulling over his plan, I consider all of the ramifications. How am I truly feeling about this? A shaking hand, holding a shiny scalpel, flashes behind my eyelids, and I startle, placing a hand over my belly. The flashback helps me solidify my thoughts.
"Yes please." My tone is not resigned or meek, but determined.
Paddy makes a note on a pad he's holding that I've just now noticed. Briefly, I wonder if it's been there all along, but I decide it doesn't really matter either way.
"When you leave the house, security will be with you at all times." He looks down at his toes, then to me, his cheeks flushed, his eyes skating off of contact with mine. "I failed you, Dr. Anna," he begins, his voice wavering.
"Woah," I protest, trying to wrestle my feet from Harry, but he holds me firmly in place.
"No," Paddy states, his tone one of strength and conviction now. "I got lazy and reckless. Everyone in town was so nice to me, and you were too, and there didn't seem to be any threats. I'm sorry, Dr. Anna. That will not happen again."
"Damn right," Harry mutters under his breath, and I twist my head to glare at him.
"Please know I don't blame you, Paddy. That young woman is clearly troubled, and I hope she gets the help she needs."
Clearing his throat, Paddy smiles ruefully. "I blame myself. Harry has been gracious in allowing me to head up the security team we're going to put in place and allowing me to liaise with the monitoring company in Glasgow..."
Surprised, I once more glance at Harry to find his face placid, not revealing his emotions in any way. He's given Paddy a promotion, and I couldn't be more proud. Of Harry. Last night, he was consumed by such fury, he wanted to see the bodyguard utterly destroyed, like a doll ripped limb from limb. There was a primal savagery in his eyes that scared me – I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd attacked Paddy with his bare hands, fueled by pure rage. So this is quite the turn.
But it's a turn that brings me relief. I didn't want Paddy getting sacked for the incident.
"Okay," I sigh. "Let's do this."
Paddy nods once, rising, his gaze shifting to Harry before returning to me. "I'll cover the night shift myself tonight, and you'll be able to meet the other two team members tomorrow morning."
My head is spinning with the speed of the changes, and yet I'm hopeful that I'll sleep better tonight knowing Paddy is physically on the premises taking care of me. I guess only time will tell.
Rising from the armchair, Paddy steps to the kitchen door, withdrawing his phone as he gets close. Not once does he turn to look at us as he makes his way out of the house, already talking on the phone to someone.
The silence with his egress is only broken by Shortbread shaking her head, causing her collar to jangle. I avoid looking at Harry for as long as possible, as I'm reminded he'll be leaving again in the morning.
"Babe..." He whispers, his fingers lightly running up and down my legs. "I love you."
Tears well up in my eyes. "Harry, I love you too," I reply at the same volume.
He clears his throat, his eyes resting on Shortbread while he speaks to me. "I know we have things to work on, and I promise we will, but I absolutely have to go back to the manor tomorrow and stay through the weekend to finish some things."
"All weekend?" I ask, attempting to tamp down the panic rising in the back of my throat like a swarm of angry bees, stinging at my composure.
Harry's face, previously alight with joy, now darkens into a frown. He shifts uncomfortably, and I can feel the tension emanating from him like heat waves from a summer fire. "I know, babe," he says, his voice low and apologetic. "I know it's not ideal, but there's a lot to finalise, and I need to be there to oversee it."
A wave of disappointment crashes over me, and I feel a lump forming in my throat. "I just... I don't like the idea of you being away for that long," I manage to say, my voice trembling slightly. "Especially with everything that's happened."
Harry reaches out and takes my hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "I understand," he says gently. "And I promise, I'll be back as soon as I can. We can FaceTime or call as much as you want. And I'll make sure to send you lots of pictures and videos."
I nod, trying to convince myself that his words are enough to ease my anxiety. But the truth is, I'm scared. Scared for him, scared for myself, and scared for the future. I know that Harry is capable of taking care of himself, but the thought of him being away from me for an entire weekend fills me with dread.
As the minutes tick by, the weight of the situation becomes increasingly heavy. I try to focus on my breathing, to find a sense of calm amidst the storm of emotions swirling within me. But it's difficult to ignore the growing sense of isolation that's creeping into my heart. I'm surrounded by people who love me, but at this moment, I feel utterly alone.
Pushing aside my feet, Harry stands and holds out his hands to help me stand. "Come on, Anna. Let's have dinner at the pub. Maybe Arran and Blair will be there."
Rather than whining like I would prefer to do, I nod. "Help me get my shoes on? My feet are swollen."
Smiling, Harry produces a pair of Crocs, shrugging. "They were stuffed in the back of your closet, and I assumed you might want them these days." He allows me to use his shoulder for balance as he kneels down and slides the hideous holey shoes onto my feet.
Once they're on, though, I sigh in relief. The damn things actually feel good. Light, airy, yet supportive. Ugh. Who have I become?
Nevertheless, the shoes are on my feet, and we're walking towards the pub, our fingers firmly entwined. Harry says we're going to deal with our problems at some point, and I'm going to trust him. The idea of forcing the issue right now fills me with dread. I'm not usually one to avoid a difficult conversation, but this is one I'm not ready to have. A few times on the walk, I check to ensure that Paddy is behind us. Each time, Harry squeezes my hand.
"You'll not be alone again."
My emotions surge at his words – bringing me both solace and anxiety. Apparently this is my life now. If I want to feel safe anyway.
"When the first stalker broke into my house, I couldn't sleep at night without security for months, but I made myself leave the house to go on walks." Harry reminds me, and I allow the emotion behind what he's saying to settle on my psyche.
"And now you're okay?"
"Well it wasn't that easy," he smiles. "I also had extra therapy sessions. That helped too. But, ultimately, what made the biggest difference was becoming more aware of my surroundings myself, noticing people who were in places they didn't belong. And time. Lots of time. You've been through a traumatic experience, babe, and it's going to fade away eventually."
I wince at the thought that my fear, like his, will never completely disappear.
"It also helped that I live in a house surrounded by walls with cameras to witness anyone attempting to bypass my security."
Point made. A new house is on the horizon for us.
"Maybe I should just give up my practice," I sigh sadly. "Follow you on tour. Become your groupie."
The laugh that escapes my fiancé is rich and comes from deep in his belly. "Oh, babe." He releases my hand so that he can place his arm around my shoulders and pull me closer to his side. "I honestly cannot picture that. You would be beyond bored. No. That's not going to happen. I won't allow it."
I tilt my head at him. "But when we were talking the other day..."
" I never intended for you to quit being a vet. Just for you to take a break and travel with me on tour for a bit. I have enough people who follow me just to see and hear me. You're the person I want to see when I come home. The person who can be my home."
A warm, fuzzy feeling overtakes me as we arrive at the pub, and Harry pulls open the door. The sound of laughter wafts from inside, and when we enter, I feel as welcome as a ship arriving safely in harbour.
Right away, I spot Blair and Arran, and I weave my way through the crowded tables to hug my bestie. Her arms wrap around me and squeeze as tightly as a drowning person clutching a life raft.
"I am so glad you're alright," she says into my ear, not releasing me for what feels like an hour. "Last night scared the shit out of me. I couldn't sleep. Finally I had to climb into bed with Arran to feel safe."
"Aw, Blair. I'm sorry that woman affected you too."
"It's going to be okay. For me, and for you. Now come sit. I'll order you a black bean burger and sweet potato fries."
Like she'd planned to do last week. She's back to her 'helicopter mom' act. Might as well enjoy the ride.