Nola, and her three beautiful girls, are looking for a fresh start. When they take up temporary residence in her grandparents home in London, she is told the musician living next door is rarely home. To Nola, he sounds like the perfect neighbor.
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My mind has decided that 1:19am is a great time to start overthinking things- telling me that I messed up my own plans by falling in love with Harry. I promised myself, after losing Luke, that I would never again be blindsided by life in the way I was. That I would remain in control of all the things that I possibly could. That's why I left and came to England because it was a fresh start where nobody knew me. I fought against a relationship with Harry because his life is literally laced with the unknown at the moment. What he does for a living, which I'm learning is a substantial part of who he is as a person (not every thing, but a big something) is unknown. If the acting thing will be his new thing- unknown. Where he's going to live this next year- unknown. How much time we will actually be able to spend together- unknown.
That's a whole lot of life blindsiding me. Maybe not right now, but eventually all of those things will be sorted out and what pile of the sorting will the girls and I fall into? He says that we'll figure it out, but after the year I had before coming to England, that verbal reassurance suddenly doesn't seem like enough. My brain wants to tell me that his assurances are conditional to our little bubble and that once we move into the real world, everything will change. That he will change.
I stare over at Harry, my Harry, sleeping on his stomach on his side of my bed and I feel the need to go anywhere but this room. I tiptoe quietly, not even grabbing the iPad from the dresser because I need to be free from everyone in this house for an hour. I attempt to sit in my favorite spot in his studio, scrolling social media and adding some new pictures of the girls to pass the time and try and turn my thoughts anywhere but where they want to go.
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Unfortunately, the magic of his studio window seat does not work tonight. So, I move downstairs and run a cup of coffee though the machine while I go and grab a jacket from the closet. Without thinking, I grab Harry's jacket and pull it on, letting the oversized fabric drown my body in his scent. I take the coffee-filled mug and quietly close his back door behind me. Stopping just outside, I bask in the cool air before I start walking along the light gravel path that looks like it's illuminated all the way to the greenhouse. Clearly that's where I'm headed, even though I didn't know it was my destination until ten seconds ago.
