OCTOBER, 2019. CONT.
Blair and I ended up in some cute little brunch place we've gone to before with other friends. We're sitting with our menus, complete silence in between us. Given by the way she's sighing, I can tell she has more to say.
I shut my menu and place it down against the table with a cocked brow. She sends me a tight smile from behind her own menu.
"B..." I drag out, leaning forward.
"I just don't get it." She finally huffs, slamming her menu down.
"Get what?"
"Can I get you any drinks today?" The waiter asks, pulling out his little notepad.
"Coffee, please." I speak, feeling Blair's eyes still on me.
"Kale smoothie. Thank you."
"I'll be right out." He grins at us, his eyes lingering for a bit too long on me.
"Monet, there's no possible way you and Harry are just done for good." Blair finally says, crossing her arms.
"Well we are. Why is that so hard for you to understand?"
"Because..."
"Because what?"
"Because for fuck's sake, Monet! He went to Paris with a fucking ring!"
My heart races inside my chest, skipping a few beats. And then it drops like a damn drop zone ride at an amusement park. I can't react. Not the way I want to. We're broken up for all she knows.
And I need her to believe it.
"He did?" I ask her quietly, eyes wide and full of curiosity.
The waiter had returned, and he places our drinks down.
"Ready to order?"
No.
I feel like I've lost my appetite for the next ten years of my life.
"Uh, blueberry pancakes, please." I stammer.
My brain is scrambled. I can't even think straight as as I sit there listening to Blair order. Her mouth moves but words don't come out.
He's gone once again and Blair faces me.
"Yeah, Monet. That's why I'm so confused as to why you came back alone. He had the ring ever since he went back to London. Before the accident he was going to see you and get you back for good. Then you left for LA. So I convinced him to catch you at the airport to Paris. He had the ring with him. Told me he was going to do it in Paris."
"Oh."
"That's why I don't understand how someone can just change their mind like that. He seemed so fucking ready. It doesn't make sense so I'm wondering what the hell happened."
Sitting here, her words don't sit right. They drop to the pit of my stomach and sit there like a heavy brick.
Harry had gone to Paris with me, intending to come back engaged. He wanted to propose properly unlike the first time. Yet, he didn't even utter the words marriage once.
So it really made me think.
What changed his mind?
"As far as I know, he never mentioned anything of that matter and we were just constantly fighting. We realized how miserable we were and decided it was best we just end it for good."
"It still doesn't make sense to me. You guys are soulmates. I know it. The universe constantly brings you guys back into each other's lives. I mean fuck, Monet. You were there when the band broke up. You've seen him at his lowest and stuck around for as long as you could."
I keep my eyes lowered, "I don't know. I guess that's the way it is."
-
My phone reads a text from Blair about how if I need a rebound, I should go for the waiter we got today.
I couldn't help but laugh and toss my phone into my bag. Same bag I practically drop when I enter my house to Harry in the middle of my living room, mediating.
His hair's pulled up into a scrunchie and he's wearing nothing but a pair of loose shorts. God, he's like heaven in the form of a human.
I almost feel bad I'm about to ruin his peaceful moment.
He doesn't seem to mind my appearance. In fact, he rises to his feet and shuffles over to me, kissing me swiftly after pausing the video on his phone.
"How was brunch?" He asks, his eyes remaining on me even though he crosses the room to grab his water.
"Oh you know, just Blair being Blair." I shrug.
"What a description. You should be a writer, cherry."
He jokes.
"She did say something very interesting."
"Yeah? What was it?"
"You went to Paris with a ring."
Harry pulls the carton away from his lips again in surprise. When his fingers tighten around the carton (due to his refusal to use plastic so he can lower his carbon footprint), I can tell I caught him.
"She told you that?" He softly asks me.
"So it's true?"
"Soleil-"
"Harry, for the love of God. Do not beat around the bush right now. Just tell me whether she's telling the truth or not."
I know she's telling the truth. Blair never lies to me. But Harry might.
"No, she's not lying." Harry sighs, placing his water down.
"Oh." I quietly murmur. "Okay."
"Are you upset with me? I can't read you right now." His voice is cautious, like he's speaking to a frightened deer.
"I'm not upset." I sigh, shaking my head. "I'm just...confused."
"About?" Harry steps towards me as I lean against the kitchen counter.
"I mean, Blair told me something that really stuck. She said how can someone be just ready to propose and just...not. And she's right."
"What do you mean?"
"You were going to do it, correct?"
"Uh, yes."
"So what changed your mind?"
A knock on the door cuts into the silence that had fallen between us. Neither of us even flinch, still focused on each other.
"You're twisting this into something more than it is." He calmly tells me.
That's always been one of my favorite things about him. I could be kicking and screaming and he would remain completely calm. It only makes me eager for the day I make him a father.
Another knock.
"So why didn't you do it?" I press.
Another knock and it continues even harsher than the last two. Irritated, Harry storms toward the door.
"Can I help y- Grace?" He chokes out.
My head picks up quickly as I spin around to see Grace standing on my doorstep.
What the hell is she doing at my house?
"You weren't home. Your security told me you'd probably be here." She stammers.
"I wouldn't call them my security anymore now." Harry mutters.
"What are you doing here? Why do you need to see him?" I cross my arms, now beside Harry protectively. "Harry, what is she doing here?"
"I'm asking myself the same question, darling." He sighs.
"I'm sorry for intruding. I just...I need to speak with Harry."
For the first time, she didn't seem like herself. She looked concerned and sick. Very sick. Pale and clammy. And the attitude that she carried the night I first met her at dinner had faded.
Now I'm worried.
"About?" Harry raises his brows.
"Yes, what exactly do you need? Last I checked, you two haven't spoken in months. Unless..." I trail off, my eyes hardening at Harry.
He looks back at me with a bewildered expression.
"I've been so wrapped up with you I honestly forgot she existed." He admits.
"I think we should speak in private, Harry." Grace proposes, fiddling with her car keys.
"Anything you can say to him you can say to me."
That was such a typical movie line. Punching myself in the face for it, trust me.
She looks at Harry and he nods in agreement at my statement.
Thank God because I would've looked so dumb if he sent me to the bedroom.
"She's right."
"Okay...well..." Grace reaches for her coat and unbuttons it. In one movement, she pulls it open to reveal the small yet growing bump connected to her body.
Wait, what?
**
Well shit just got real didn't it