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Late September in London is probably the best time in all of the world. It's not too cold yet, or rainy and you get some afternoons where it's even hot. The weather is all around great and the proper autumn sneaking in with every new yellow leaf gives the ancient city a certain enchantment that is there maybe only when it snows on Christmas Day, and that surely isn't an annual occurrence.

Harry is stupidly happy on a warm September day as he comes back to his house. He's just done a live set at BBC Radio 2 for the new album, in the evening he's got the last day of filming for a new music video and life's pretty great. Except that Lucrecia has gone to New York with Dario to school but she'll be back.

So when Harry walks into his living room and spots Lucrecia sitting there, his happiness level only rises. It's only when their eyes meet and Luc's everpresent glimmer is absent, that Harry knows something is wrong.

"Something's wrong," Harry says instead of a greeting. "You're here early and you look like someone has died. Oh god, has someone died?"

"No, no, no, everyone's alive," Lucrecia says quickly. She doesn't get up from the couch. "Nothing is horribly wrong. Can you please sit down?"

"This feels wrong," Harry announces as he walks towards the couch. "Please, just tell me right away, I hate waiting."

"I can't just say it with one sentence," Luc laughs a little but it's strained. "It's not a very easy thing to just say."

Harry reaches for her hand. It's a good sign that she doesn't snatch it away from him. "No matter what you tell me right now, I'm still here for you. Whatever it is."

Luc sighs, her face growing grim. "That is precisely why I've put this off for as long as I possibly could."

"Love, what is it?" Harry presses her cautiously.

"God," Luc rubs the area between her eyebrows, always doing it when she's nervous. She keeps her eyes closed for a moment, before lifting up her head and facing Harry again. "I'm moving to New York, permanently."

"Okay," Harry says, nodding. A line appears between his brows. "That's okay, I mean, Dario's there. It wouldn't be fair to try and keep you in Europe away from your son. We can make it work, I still have a flat there that I rent out."

"No, darling," Luc sighs again, grabbing Harry's hands between hers. "I don't think we can keep on as we are, romantically and everything."

Harry thinks he blacks out for a second. "What?"

"Long-distance relationships never truly work," Lucrecia says. Her face is twisted with emotion. "I've thought about this for so long and I truly do love you, and I don't want you out of my life, but I don't think we could have a proper, concrete future together."

"Wait, so," Harry frowns, taking a deep breath. "This is a breakup."

"Honey," Lucrecia holds Harry's hands tighter. "I've tried to think about how we could work but... I can't see it. I just can't. Your profession keeps you always in a different location and you want to be in England when you're not flying all around the globe. Your family is here, your friends are here. It wouldn't be fair of me to try and uproot you and move you over to New York."

"Luc, I'm-" Harry scoffs. "I lived in New York for three years during my last relationship. Neither of us was from there. I could live there again with you."

Lucrecia looks at him for a good while, donning the face of a mourner at a funeral. "Harry, it's not only about us."

He gets it then. "Dario," Harry says, nodding slowly. "You don't think I could ever be like another parent to him."

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