Un-Tying the Knot {h.s.}

Chapter 17

"BRAKE!!!"

Eleanor was squealing demands from the passenger seat of the slick white Range Rover that Harry was driving through the winding back roads of his small, sleepy English town. The car was jostling quite a bit from the maneuvers, but it wasn't an unenjoyable ride. Eleanor was just hard to please when she wasn't in control.

That didn't matter much, the elated aura emanating off of Harry couldn't be easily deterred. He was home, and it was like someone just made all of his dreams come true.

Trying to avoid the arguing, I couldn't help but slide further down into my leather seat. I peered out the window, watching the gorgeous countryside pass us by. It was winter, so there was a thin layer of snow contrasting the deep evergreens that were a permanent fixture of the barren landscape.

Eleanor kept muttering directions on how Harry should drive, until he finally reminded her that she didn't even have a license, let alone had never been behind the wheel in a country like England. After his comment, she sat in stony silence for fifteen minutes.

"Babe," he muttered, his smile radiating like the sun as he went around another curve. "I learned to drive on these back roads. I know them like the back of my hand!"

"You learned to drive in Los Angeles!" she squeals with a gasp as we clear a hill, all of our stomachs dropping in the process. I couldn't help but smile.

One of my favorite things to do as a child with my brother Patrick was to go speeding over hills, feeling your stomach drop as if you were on a rollercoaster. The feeling of freedom you got during that half a second that you were airborne was like nothing I had ever experienced. We used to do it every weekend when we were growing up, and I couldn't help but smile at the memory.

I can't help but fight the lump in my throat at the sudden shift from my memory to Patrick's disappointment that I wouldn't be coming home for Christmas. But that was nothing compared to the disappointment from my Mom and Dad. They were absolutely crushed.

"I did not," Harry argued.

We turned down another winding road, and I couldn't help but notice the houses getting larger and larger.

"Um, excuse me...but you were sixteen. You were with that stupid boy group and in LA. Where there were no hills and no snow, by the way," she muttered. "Harry! Slow down!"

"It's not even snowing!" he chirped back, ignoring her protests as he maneuvered around another tight corner.

All I could do was rest my ahead dejectedly against the glass. This was what I gave up my Christmas for? How depressing.

"There's snow on the ground, which means there could be ice on the ground. Seriously, Harold -- why didn't you just get a driver!?"

He rolled his eyes, his voice tired and low. "There aren't driving services out here, Eleanor."

"Which is just many of the reasons why we don't, and will never, live here," she scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly.

Harry gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white at her words, his jaw clenching to keep from saying something he would regret. Instead, he takes a deep breath and lets off the gas to round the next curve, acquiescing to her desires more than he wanted to.

I didn't notice when Harry had peered at me through the rear view mirror, but I felt eyes on me. When I looked up, our eyes connected, an intense feeling sliding through my body as he did so. In that moment, I could tell he could see my mood and probably read my thoughts. More than anything, I knew from one quick, five second glance, that he felt bad for me. He took me away from my family, and he knew it. He knew what family meant to him, and could only imagine how I must be feeling. But just as quickly as it came, his eyes went back to the road, ending our unspoken dialogue.