A Love Like Ours

Chapter 39

Madelyn turned her back on him.

"Harry," she said, moving closer to me. When I could finally drag my eyes away from Rob—his focus was on me, too—I found Madelyn staring up at me with wide, worried eyes. "I had no idea he'd show up. None. Please believe me, I—I don't know who invited him, but it wasn't me, and I didn't think my mom would do something like that, but if she did—" she sighed, exasperated, terrified, "—I'm gonna have to talk to her, I didn't think she'd—"

I curled my hands around her shoulders, afraid of the way I was feeling as much as I was afraid of the way she was panicking. "Mads."

"I'm sorry," she said, her whispered words frantic and rushed. Still, we didn't seem to be attracting anyone's attention. "I'm so sorry, Harry, I—"

I tightened my grip, almost pulled her closer, but didn't. "It's alright," I said. And repeated it. "It's alright."

But it wasn't. It didn't feel alright. Not as I looked up and over her shoulder to find Rob watching us, his hands in his pockets. His gaze went to the ground when I looked at him, as if he knew he was violating a private moment. But it wasn't just the moment between Mads and I, it was the fact that he was here at all. It was an invasion, never mind a violation. They were over.

Over.

And he had the balls to show up here uninvited.

As my grip on Madelyn tightened even more, and as I looked at the ground between us, I realized how angry I was about it.

"Harry?" she asked, her words still whispered. Frantic as she was, she was trying desperately hard not to draw any attention.

"Everything alright?" Ceci sounded confused and I didn't know how to answer her question.

No, it's not because Madelyn's ex-fiance just showed up without an invitation.

Yes, it is. But Madelyn's ex-fiance just showed up without an invitation.

Honestly, Ceci, things could be better at the moment. Because Madelyn's ex-fiance just showed up without an invitation.

"Harry," Mads said again, her eyes searching mine, her hands spread out on my chest. There was no doubt she could feel my racing heart, but it wasn't passion that was sending it hammering now. "Please say something."

There was desperation in her gaze. Sorrow. Confusion and hope. And maybe it was selfish—it more than likely was—but I didn't know what to say. Didn't know how to feel or act. Only knew that I was too confused, too angry to respond with any amount of dignity or compassion at the moment.

So when I let my hands fall, when I started to move around her, I looked away from the absolute anguish that filled her eyes, then.

"I need a minute," I mumbled.

Mads gasped softly, but didn't grab onto me, didn't do anything but say my name once more. "Harry."

I didn't register anyone or anything as I made my way around the opposite side of the backyard—away from Rob. Away from Ceci and Frank's confused gazes, and away from the pained look in Madelyn's eyes.

I just needed a minute alone. Just needed to gather my thoughts—take stock of what I was feeling. And despite barely hearing it, despite barely noticing anyone apart from Rob or Madelyn in the last two minutes, it was like all the voices, the music, all the people around us still found their way into my head, clouding everything I was feeling and thinking even more.

I just need a minute, I told myself as I made my way round the side of the house toward the front yard. Then I'd know what to do.

The music wasn't as blaring up here, and the sound of conversation and laughter had dulled considerably. I could almost block them out completely the nearer I got to the front steps of Madelyn's house, so I sat down on them, rested my elbows on my knees. Looked up at the sun setting in the sky. Pink, purple—Madelyn's shade of orange.