"There has to be some other possibility" Harry shook his head stubbornly.
"The 20th of April or the 19th of February. Anything. Anything!" Harry raised his voice and Jordan grasped her cliboard infront of her chest for protection.
I just stood there with my mouth slightly ajar as every breath of hope and happiness slithered out of me.
"I-I'm sorry, there really is nothing I can do" Jordan apologized. She had no idea what was wrong with the 21st of March, but she was smart enough to know not to ask questions when Harry's eyes shined and his jugular pulsed out of his neck.
Harry's fist clenched around my hand. If he could, he would have grabbed Jordan's calender and forced the dates to change just from the sheer power of his beautifully sturdy hands. But he couldn't. He knew that and it frustrated him even more.
Jordan took a hesitant step back and walked clamly, but hurriedly to her desk, which was a sturdier shield from her measley clipboard.
"Harry" I mumbled as I touched his ring on my finger.
Harry looked down at me as if having forgotten I was there.
"Baby, I'll get this fixed. Don't worry. I'll get this fixed" Harry told me over and over. If his fists didn't do the trick, he knew his words had to have some power.
But they didn't.
I shook my head softly. I didn't want him to fix anything. We couldn't cheat death twice and steal happiness. We just coudn't and the moment we realized that is the moment we can move on...
"Harry, please take me home" I asked of him just before my voice cracked.
Harry nodded and he walked me to the lobby where we had left Gemma and Danny. We reached in his pocket to get something, so I turned the knob.
I heard a gasp escape my lips- or Danny's.
I took a half step in and saw that Gemma was practically sitting in Danny's lap, whispering something in his ear as she patted the napkin near his groin, even though the tea stain was near his knee.
Danny looked hungrily at Gemma's neck and no doubt had a good view down her chest.
Then he saw me walk in and he jerked up. He grabbed Gemma by her waist and lifted her off his lap as if she were a tiny, but powerful doll he wished to admire...and then undress later.
I just smiled ever so slightly and looked down at Danny's hands, which were still holding Gemma's waist.
Danny pulled his hands back and stuck them in his pockets.
Harry looked at the smile on my face and was confused. Then he glanced up at Gemma and Danny, who stood side by side.
Danny looked like a school boy nearly caught by his teacher for getting cooties. "Lover Boy" might as well have been plastered over his now very soft and rosy cheeks.
Gemma was completely calm and nonchalant.
I heard Harry's jaw click. He looked about ready to smack the guilty, awkward smirk off of Danny's face, but he hadn't seen what I had seen, so thankfully, he had no evidence to go off of.
"So how was it?" Gemma asked casually.
I cleared my throat as the real problem at hand came running back to mind.
"21st" I mumbled.
"The 21st of March" I spoke up.
Gemma blinked, unsure what was wrong with the 21st. But Danny knew and he rushed over to me and held me at arms length.
"Angie, you can't do the 21st" he told me.
"I know!" I raised my voice.
Danny blinked, slightly confused by my sudden boldness. Then he patted my shoulder reassuringly.
"There's no other date" Harry spoke up, just as Danny turned to him.
Danny looked from me to Harry and there was an honest trace of sadness in his dark, brooding eyes. As much as he still probably hated the idea of me getting married, especially since I wanted to marry his best friend, he still cared about my happiness. He was my brother and he would always want to protect me at any chance that Harry couldn't.
But it didn't matter whose fists were bulkier or whose shoulders were broader, neither of them could change anything. No matter how much they wanted to.
***
Harry drove in silence. His fingers twitched slightly on the steering wheel and I knew that he was running over ideas of how to fix this problem.
I wanted to tell him it was no use and that maybe we could just have a small ceremony between us some place else, but I knew that was useless, too. Unlike math class, you can't solve a problem with mere inputs of random letters and numbers. There are too many variables, too many emotions to make a solution.
We go to Harry's apartment and I sat down on the couch. Gemma sat next to me and quietly patted her hands in her lap. I knew she desperately wanted to know what was wrong with the 21st. She wasn't the kind of girl that liked being out of the loop.
But I couldn't tell her.
I was too weak and would be too close to tears if I did.
So I excused myself and went over to Harry's room. I took a pair of his boxers even though I had brought in some sweats and other clothes. Then I tucked my shirt into my drawer and went under the covers with only a tank top.
The pulled the comfort and the blanket up to my neck beacuse I was shivering, even though I wasn't cold.
The door creaked open carefully and I saw a tall figure with a mess of dark curls.
Harry tossed his shirt aside and unbuckled his jeans. Then he tugged the covers up and slipped under them, next to me.
I didn't turn to face him, so he wrapped his arm around my waist and fitted my back protectively to his chest. He rested his head close behind mine.
I clasped my arms close to my chest and tried to calm their trembling.
"I'll fix this, Angie, I promise" Harry whispered softly against my neck.
His warm breath smoothed over my skin, both comforting me and making tears tears come to my eyes that much faster.
I turned slightly and looked up at his eyes. In the heavy darkness of the room, I could still see the vibrant vigor of his green marbles.
I nodded slowly, but refused to face him, afraid that my tears would give way at beauty of his sheer determination to fight something that had been beating us down since our first kiss: reality.
Harry kissed along my neck softly. He took deep, slow breaths and his moist lips pressed against my skin, just enough to feel my vein pumping erratically.
I let my chest rise and fall the rhythm of his steady heart.
"I promise, baby" he told with a soft, but stubborn ambition.
I just nodded quickly and my throat closed in on me. The last thing my dad had told me was a promise that he loved me and a demand that I let myself fly.
Then my throat closed in on me and I shut my eyes, making the tears stream more painfully.
I rubbed my eyes quickly before Harry could see, but he was much too attuned to my body than I was and he turned me over to face him completely. He looked down at my semi-wet cheeks and kissed them.
I closed my eyes and he kissed the frightened tear that hid between my lashes.
Another tear slipped from my eye, not only because of our horribly-fated predicament, but because Harry was so damn determined to be so beautifully good to me. He was so set on holding himself together for my sake and he never dared show an ounce of his own vulnerability. He did it for me and that made me cry even harder.
I hid my face in his chest and apologized after every tear that slipped down the contour of his chest and down his torso.
Harry shook his head every time I apologized and he rubbed my back soothingly.
"I love you, Angela" he whispered to my neck.
My throat tightened like dense metal rusting away. I wished those three words could fix our problems.
But they can't. So I just nodded and my acidic tears showered down Harry's chest, forming those three little words on his body as my lips failed to say them outloud.
I love you, too.