Un-Tying the Knot {h.s.}

Chapter 61*

I groan, eyes blurring wearily as I continue to stare at my computer. I pause, pinching the bridge of my nose to try and ease the stress headache that's coming on. I wasn't exactly sure what I'd stumble upon while looking through Harry & Eleanor's personal finances — but the task certainly wasn't easy. At least not as easy as finishing my parents taxes, which I had knocked out earlier this morning.

So far, what I was seeing didn't look good — but I had to find the smoking gun, which was going to be difficult with all of the super secret accounts and business trusts Eleanor had set up. And now I had to sit here, combing through everything with a fine tooth comb.

That is, until a knock interrupts my concentration.

I secretly welcome the distraction, standing from the chair at my dining room table before tying the loose cardigan over my frame, hiding my bra-less upper body barely hidden in my camisole. The bare pads of my feet make their way to the door, breath catching when I see a familiar pair of emerald eyes looking down at me.

"Harry..."

"Livvy," he whispers.

I groan, cursing silently at myself as I let him push past me into my apartment. He had been coming over quite frequently, usually when he had a fight with Eleanor.

I groan as I feel his arms snake around my body, pulling my backside to his front, his nose burying into the crook of my neck. His breathing is shallow, and I could feel his body relax the moment he had me in his arms.

"I missed you," he murmurs.

I roll my eyes silently. "You know, if you just told Eleanor what you really wanted, you wouldn't have to miss me."

He groans, arms tightening around me. I had been losing patience over the past few weeks, getting tired of the same old back and forth. And part of me really was getting my life together — finally enrolling in CPA classes, burying my designer clothes, doing my parents taxes. I was getting back to me. The me that I desperately wished I could also be when his arms were around me.

"Livvy..." he groans. "I told you that I need time. I've been honest with you the entire time. This isn't easy for me."

I sigh, slowly pulling away from him, biting my lip before looking up at his pained facial expression. His hair is getting longer and a bit unruly, he's stopped shaving his face entirely, and he's actually dressing in casual clothes — a ratty old Rolling Stones t-shirt and some casual baggy jeans that look like they came from the 90s.

"Harry," I start, hand reaching up to touch his cheek. "What are we doing?"

He smirks at me, leaning down to connect our lips, and I groan. I had no intention of seeing him today, but I had been planning and plotting my escape from this fucked up situation since the bridal party. I wanted to pull away, but there was a part of me that wanted to remember how good this felt, just one last time.

He groans, picking me up and carrying me to the counter. His hips slip between my legs, mouth hot and heavy against my lips, as if he forgot what they tasted like and needed the reminder.

"Fuck, I missed you so much," he whimpers.

His hands quickly pushed off my cardigan, reveling in the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra. He palmed my perky mounds, grunting as he slowly kissed down my neck, placing sloppy kisses on my collar bone.

I groan, trying to push off the thought that this would be our last time, head tilting back and letting him assault my senses. Once he pulled my top off, I pushed him away.

He lets his eyes search mine, suddenly questioning my forcefulness. He can tell something's up — he knows me better than I know myself sometimes. But he's still an idiot, and I can't expect him to really know about the blow I'm going to deliver to him after I get to have him one last time, for my memory's sake.