Olivia didn't reply to Harry's message. What could she say? She wanted to tell him 'me too' and make plans to see him again, but she couldn't. Olivia wondered why she even texted him in the first place. It was unnecessary, and unfair – to both Harry and Ben. But she also couldn't shake the desire to see him again.
On the morning of Christmas Eve, Olivia awoke with Harry on her mind. It wasn't unusual for her – though she wouldn't admit to it – but on the morning of her birthday, she ached for him. The desire was overpowering, and she hadn't had such a yearning for Harry in a very long time. She didn't know if it was because it was her birthday, Christmas Eve or the realisation she had to go home in only a few days, but she couldn't stop thinking about seeing him again.
With a sigh, she reminded herself to not think about Harry. Her reminder was futile, and he refused to leave her mind. Thoughts of Harry lingered as she tried to enjoy her birthday breakfast – prepared by her nieces and nephews with love, but nearly inedible. She put on a happy face, accepted the homemade cards and scratch-and-win tickets, but her only thought was how much fun she would have with Harry if he were with her. They would giggle together as they tried not to gag at the runny pancakes and weak coffee. He would covertly touch her leg under the table and she would slap his hand away until it was socially acceptable to leave the table. Then they would sneak away to the privacy of her room and spend the day making love.
Olivia wanted to smack herself. Her fiancé was a coast away, spending Christmas working night shifts in a life-threatening career, and she was spending her holidays thinking about making love with her ex-boyfriend. She never knew she was so heartless.
Still, after helping with the dishes, Olivia thanked her family for their generosity and announced she had Christmas wrapping to finish. She reassured them she would be back later for the annual Home Alone marathon before exiting Stephanie's apartment, careful to avoid either of her sister's eyes. They would see right through her fib. Olivia was certain they would, anyway.
She took the elevator to her studio suite and locked the door behind her. She wasn't going to spend the rest of her day wrapping presents – she'd wrapped her gifts as soon as she bought them – but she didn't know what she would do. Her eye caught Harry's t-shirt, folded on the dresser, and she knew what she wanted to do. How could she though?
However, she did have to return the t-shirt.
Olivia groaned at her inner debate. If she saw Harry, it would be nothing but a disaster. Her feelings were already stronger than they should be and seeing him would only prolong her emotions. But she seemed to have no control over her actions.
Before she talked herself out of it, she grabbed the t-shirt and shoved it into her purse, stumbling over her feet as she yanked on her jacket and boots and bolted from the apartment.
Half an hour later, Olivia stepped out of the cab in front of Harry's apartment. I'm just returning the shirt, she lied to herself. She let out a loud exhale, wondering if it was too late to turn back. It wasn't, but she also didn't want to.
She stood at the bottom of the stoop as the taxi drove off, staring up at the brick building. Her legs felt cemented to the ground, unable to move despite her prior rush to get to Harry's home. She wasn't naïve; she knew what would happen once she was alone with Harry. As much as she wanted to, she as much didn't want to. She had no idea which side would win.
Olivia huffed out a sigh, dropping her purse onto the stairs like a toddler about to throw a fit. As she bent to pick it up, she reminded herself that she was now in her mid-thirties and shouldn't act like a brat. She reached for her purse and flopped onto the bottom step, resting her chin in her hands. Her next move was a conundrum. She didn't want to text Harry. For reasons she couldn't quite figure out, she wanted to show up at his front door without him expecting her. Maybe she wanted to see if he was spending Christmas Eve day with his girlfriend. Maybe she figured a surprise would be romantic. No, that couldn't be it. Could it?
But, Olivia couldn't spend the day sitting on the cold steps outside Harry's home. If she wanted to see him, she had to stand up. If she didn't want to see him, she had to stand up. Either way, she would not solve her enigmatic thoughts by sitting. Still, she didn't budge.
Harry rounded the corner onto Greenwich Street, the liquor store bag bumping against his leg. He was trying to walk with a jovial skip to his step. It was Christmas Eve, the most wonderful time of the year. His mother and sister had arrived in New York for the holidays and Anne had already taken over Harry's kitchen. The smells and tastes of her concoctions were reminiscent of Harry's childhood. He was trying so hard to be in the holiday spirit, but Olivia and his unanswered text remained a constant on his mind.
It had been a ballsy text, and it may have surprised him if she'd answered him. Still, it didn't change that his text was his truth, and he wished it was hers. He would give anything for Olivia to be back in life. But, with the ring on her hand and the promise she made, this was a game he would lose. He needed to accept that and carry on with his life as he'd been carrying on for the past three years.
He sighed. Perhaps he'd call Hailey to come over. He hadn't wanted her around – she was too cuddly, too affectionate – and convinced her to spend Christmas Eve with her father. But perhaps, she would distract his mind from Olivia. If nothing else, she would always put out.
Harry was deep in thought as he approached the stoop steps, he almost didn't notice the woman sitting on the stair. He was planning to ignore her – he'd been in New York long enough to acquire some jadedness – but as he glanced at the woman out of the corner of his eye, he realised it was Olivia.
His heart jumped at his realisation. "Liv?" he questioned with curiosity, a small smile on his lips as he stepped towards her. His grin widened as her head shot up in response. He hadn't a clue why she was sitting on the cold cement steps, but he didn't care. All that mattered was she was there.
Olivia stared at Harry for a moment, surprised by his greeting. She pictured him inside, cozied up next to the Christmas tree with his dumb girlfriend, not out on the street. "Hi," she greeted, her voice sheepish as she stood up. She suddenly felt silly being on his doorstep. The t-shirt from Goodwill felt pathetic and small in her purse. Harry probably didn't even care about the shirt.
"Uhm... hi," Harry replied, a hint of disbelieving laughter in his voice. "What... what are you doing here?" he asked, his question kinder than the same question he'd asked Hailey. The difference was, he was happy to see Olivia.
"Well, uhm..." Olivia bit her lip, feeling stupid. She rifled through her purse and grabbed the t-shirt, thrusting it against Harry's chest. "I brought this back for you."
Harry looked down at the shirt. His stunned frown segued into a cheeky smirk. "You came all the way down here... on Christmas Eve... to bring me back an old Bon Jovi t-shirt that I found at a thrift store in Omaha?" He let out a chuckle as Olivia dropped her head, a red hue tickling her cheeks. She was so cute.
"I... guess so?" Olivia asked, wishing that was the only reason she'd shown up at Harry's apartment. She let out a quiet sigh. "I guess I don't really know why I'm here..." she admitted. Except possibly to continue to prove that I am a wretched person, she thought to herself with a frown.
"It's okay," Harry assured her. He didn't know why Olivia was at his home either, but regardless, it pleased him to see her. "Do you want to come in?"
"In?" she repeated dumbly. She did, but she realised just then she'd decided she would go home and courier the t-shirt to Harry... or perhaps she would keep it for herself. Seeing him in front of her, the indecisiveness returned. "I... I don't know..."
Harry smirked again as he climbed the stairs. "The opposite of out," he teased, nodding for Olivia to follow him. "Come on," he urged, waiting at the top of the stairs for her. He would not let her get away this time. "It's cold out here, and my old lady neighbour dropped off a massive plate of Christmas treats earlier. I won't share all of them, but I reckon I can spare one or two," he teased, hoping he kept the desperation out of his voice. He didn't want to scare her off by seeming too eager to spend time with her.
Olivia glanced over her shoulder down the street as though to check if anyone was watching her moves. She let out a quiet breath before nodding. "Okay..." she agreed slowly. She climbed the stairs and followed Harry into the quiet lobby. She was sick to her stomach over her actions, but also desperate to embrace Harry and have his strong arms encircling her body.
"Hey," Harry commented as they waited for the elevator. He touched Olivia's arm. "Happy birthday." It was odd to him that it was the first time he'd ever said those words to her. But he'd wanted to, every single Christmas Eve. He hadn't ever contacted her on her birthday, but he hoped she knew she was always on his mind on that day.
Olivia met Harry's eyes, a small smile dancing on her lips. "Thank you," she answered, surprised he'd remembered her birthday. She hadn't forgotten his, but he was more spectacular than she. She wanted to ask him how on earth he still remembered her birthday, an event they'd never celebrated together, but didn't want to hear him say "it's Christmas Eve and easy to remember" or "it's the same as one of my best friends". Olivia hoped he remembered her day because of her, not because of easy reminders.
She wanted to say more, Harry could tell, but he didn't pry He touched her back, guiding her into the elevator. He tucked himself close to her as he followed, hoping she would turn around and embrace him like he wanted her to. He couldn't initiate a hug, not when Olivia had such obvious trepidation about being in his presence.
She didn't turn around, but rather tucked herself into the corner of the elevator. Harry hoped his disappointment wasn't written on his face as he pressed the number five button. "My mum and my sister are here," he said instead, positioning himself between Olivia and the door. "They'll love seeing you."
Olivia's eyes widened. "They... they are?" she asked, her stomach dropping. Somehow, the notion of Anne and Gemma knowing about the time she was spending with Harry made Olivia feel even more shamed than she already did. "I shouldn't be here, Harry. I don't want to interrupt your Christmas."
Harry scoffed, rolling his eyes. "What're you on about?" he asked her, shaking his head. She was so dramatic. "They still talk about you all the time," he admitted. "It will be nice, I promise."
Olivia shook her head. "They'll think I'm..." She trailed off, looking down at her ring finger. "What did they say about us... hanging out?" she asked him. She didn't want Anne to think she was an unfaithful harlot, leading her son on.
Harry rubbed his chin as the elevator halted on the fifth floor. "I, uh... well, I didn't tell them..." he confessed to Olivia. Admitting he'd kept their rendezvous a secret made him feel guilty. He wanted to reassure Olivia that she wasn't someone who should ever be a secret, even though he'd done it in the past and he was doing it again.
"You didn't?" Olivia repeated, surprised. "Why not?" she asked, following Harry from the elevator. Her stomach was heavy. Of course he hadn't told his family. She was engaged, he had a girlfriend. They'd spent time together and told each other things they shouldn't have, but those words didn't change the fact that they were both unavailable and there was nothing to tell Anne and Gemma.
"It's not because I didn't want to," Harry assured Olivia. He had a sense she needed to hear that. He stopped in the middle of the hallway and faced Olivia. "I just..." He trailed off, searching for the proper words. He couldn't be certain of their reactions, but he suspected that while Anne adored Olivia, she would disapprove of the borderline affair. Gemma would voice her opinion about the potential fling, and would have taken it upon herself to contact Olivia and create a convoluted plan to reignite Holivia. They both would have had too much to say, and Harry wasn't willing to hear it.
"I wanted to," he repeated, reaching out and letting his fingertips graze against Olivia's hand. Against his better judgement, he laced his fingers through hers and rubbed his thumb against her palm. As quick as he'd taken her hand, Olivia pulled away. Her head dropped, as though she was ashamed she wouldn't touch him.
"It's okay," Olivia told Harry, regarding both the hand holding and his silence to his family about their almost date. She understood – when one didn't have the answers, it was easier to just avoid the questions.
Harry shook his head. "You shouldn't ever be a secret," he told Olivia, sounding wistful. He offered her a small smile before continuing down the hall.
Olivia smiled, watching Harry's back for a moment before lengthening her strides to catch up with Harry. "Harry!" she hissed out, grabbing his arm before he opened the apartment door. "Is your girlfriend here?" She wanted to stay, but she didn't want to meet Harry's girlfriend or spend any time with her. Olivia wanted to pretend the girlfriend didn't exist. Not that it mattered if the girlfriend existed or not – Olivia loathed how Ben kept slipping her mind.
Harry snickered, rolling his eyes at Olivia. He opened the apartment door, gesturing for Olivia to enter. "Do you think I would do that to you?" he asked, his words quiet. Harry wondered if Olivia even heard him. He held his hands out to take her jacket, her expectant eyes meeting his. He sighed. "No," he answered simply, bravely taking her hand again.
Harry taking Olivia's hand a second time startled her, but it didn't surprise her. They were both playing it fast and loose with their relationships – it only made sense he would take her hand after she showed up unexpected at his home. But it was inappropriate and crossing the line – though the line was blurring increasingly with each moment Olivia spent with Harry.
Olivia cleared her throat, reciprocating Harry's squeeze before pulling her hand away from him. He glanced at her and looked as though he would have said something in response to her actions if they hadn't just entered the living room.
"The wine shop had a special on this Canadian varietal," Harry announced to his mother and sister, grinning at his joke. "Bit sweet, but packs a punch... can't ever get enough..." he murmured, though the finale of his statement meant only for Olivia's ears. He smirked as he noticed her cheeks redden. He still adored making her blush.
"Olivia!" Anne exclaimed, surprised by the unexpected visitor. "Oh my goodness!" She jumped up, enveloping her son's ex-girlfriend into a tight hug. Gemma followed suit, the two women wearing matching surprised expressions on their faces.
"How are you in New York?" Gemma exclaimed. "How did this happen?" she added, gesturing between Harry and Olivia. Her eyes widened. "Is this happening again?" she asked. "Ooh, did you get rid of the twat?" she asked Harry, pressing her hands together pleadingly.
Harry rolled his eyes at his sister and made a face. "Don't call her shit like that," he ordered, uncomfortable at the mention of Hailey in front of Olivia. He met Olivia's eyes and noticed she had a slight smirk on her face, obviously pleased with Gemma's nickname for Harry's girlfriend. Harry tried not to smile at the fact, but Olivia's cute grin was contagious.
"I, uhm... my sister lives here now," Olivia answered Gemma, watching Harry's face out of the corner of her eye. She had a habit of sticking her foot in her mouth, and knowing Harry hadn't told Anne and Gemma about their encounter, she silently told him to take the reins of the conversation.
"Bumped into her at a coffee shop a couple days back," Harry explained, seeing the look Olivia gave him and still being able to decipher her silent thoughts. He wanted to offer her a touch, to reassure her he wouldn't let the conversation get uncomfortable, but he couldn't touch Olivia in front of his family. "Told her to come by for a nice Christmas surprise with you lot," he added, gesturing to Anne and Gemma.
Gemma glanced between Harry and Olivia, looking as though she didn't buy the simplicity of her brother's story. But, she shrugged and offered Olivia a bright smile. "Well! What are the odds, yeah?" she asked, laughing. "Are you staying awhile? Can I get you a drink? Come on!" Gemma urged, noticing the hesitation on Olivia's face.
"Please stay," Harry whispered, knowing she shouldn't, but past the point of caring. "You want some of those baked treats, I know you do," he teased.
No, I want you, Olivia thought with shame. She kept her thoughts to herself, but given the confessions she'd told Harry the last time they were together, she was certain he was aware of her desire. "I suppose one drink wouldn't hurt," she answered Gemma instead. It was true – one drink would be fine. It was the second, third and fourth Olivia knew she would have that would be the problem.