Harry excitedly replied, “Yes, absolutely, I'd love to talk! Right now? Where?”

“All right, don't hurt yourself,” Philip laughed. “Let's go into one of the box seats,” he said, leading Harry away.

I just said, “I'll wait for you right here,” and waved happily to Harry.

But Philip turned around and said, “No, please come with us. It's fine. The more the merrier.” I followed behind them, only slightly surprised that one of the security guards waved Philip through when he entered one of the box seat areas.

Once we had a seat, Philip got straight to the point. “Harry, I'd like you to come to LA and do a few demos for Urbane Records. You know, see if you've got what it takes to go pro.”

Harry's jaw dropped open. He finally recovered enough to answer, “Of course, I'd love to.”

Philip handed Harry a business card and said, “Call the office on Monday to have them set up an appointment. I'll tell my assistant to expect your call.”

Harry was beaming when he stood up and extended his hand. “Thank you so much, Mr. Weatherfield.”

“Call me Phil,” he said in reply.

And that was that. Harry and I drove home on cloud nine.

When we got back to my house, I told him, “The kids are at my parents for the night, so you can spend the night here.”

He just pulled me close and said, “That was amazing. I mean, what if I really get a record deal?”

“I know, Harry. It's so exciting! We should have bought some champagne or something to celebrate.”

“We don't need champagne to celebrate,” he told me. “But what do you say we get into the pool?”

“Seriously, Harry? Swimming at this hour? Aren't you tired?”

“Do you really not remember what happened one year ago today?” He asked.

Then it dawned on me. “Our first kiss,” I whispered. “How could I forget?” I leapt up and kissed him on the lips, but I knocked him backward onto the couch, falling on top of him. I sat up and straddled his lap, kissing him properly. “Let's just stay inside,” I said, kissing him again.

“Okay,” he smirked.

We sat like that and kissed for a long time until finally I just snuggled up against him and said, “I love you, babe.”

I could feel his face stretching into a smile. “I love you, too.”

“I can't believe how much has happened in the past year,” I said. And then I remembered the context of mine and Harry's kiss one year ago today. “Harry, it's your dad's birthday,” I whispered.

“I know.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” His answer was less than convincing.

“You're still going to need time. But I know your dad would be very, very proud of you,” I assured him. "And I'm proud of you, babe."

“Thank you.”

Then he stood up and picked me up along with him, carrying me princess-style to the bedroom. 

"Harry, put me down! You're going to hurt yourself!" I laughed.

"Nonsense," he growled and playfully threw me onto the bed. Then he climbed on top of me and kissed me, lighting a fire inside of me, similar to the way he had kissed me at the concert earlier. I wrapped my arms around his torso and scratched lightly along his back while he moved his arms up above my shoulders. He rested on his elbows, hovering over my face.

"I love you so much," he breathed.

"I love you, too," I whispered back. 

He kissed me again, pushing deeply into me, connecting us in such an intimate way, I never wanted him to stop. Eventually he pulled away slightly and exhaled, quietly saying, "I want you."

I wanted him too. So badly. Having the girls away presented the opportunity for us to be a little careless, but I reminded him, "We were going to wait, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," he sighed. "But just so you know, I love you and you're the only woman I'll ever want."

"I believe you, but let's just wait, okay? We don't know yet if we'll stay together. Sex will make it more difficult for us to make rational decisions."

He listened while placing light kisses all over my face.

"I love you so much, Harry. But if I give you all of me, there will be more and more of me torn away if you leave."

"I'm not planning on walking away. But I'll wait. For you, luv, I'll wait," he said gently and kissed me one more time before we got ready for bed.

We fell asleep quickly, both thoroughly exhausted after the big production and the exciting visit with Philip Weatherfield.

When we woke up in the morning, Harry offered to get up and make breakfast, so I gladly allowed him to spoil me a little.

Over breakfast, Harry surprised me completely by telling me, “I don't think I need more time, Lise.”

I looked up at him, trying to figure out what to say. “How can you know that? You've hardly been here.” It sounded more harsh than I intended for it to.

“I'm trying,” he said, getting irritated. “You said you were used to handling a lot by yourself, but when I'm not at school, I'm always here. Always.”

“And now you're on the verge of an exciting new step in your career. What if it takes off and we're just here, holding you back?”

“What if I want to share it all with you?!” He shot back.

I just sat there, with all the old fear flooding my emotions. I bit my lip and tears started to form in my eyes.

“Lise, what's wrong?” He whispered, getting up and coming around the table.

“I'm so afraid,” I wailed. He pulled me close and soothed me. “You can't possibly want a family on top of all your other responsibilities,” I went on. “You have a lot of promise, Harry, and it's not going to be easy. You still have to make up your classes in the summer, and what if this meeting in LA turns out to be your big chance? You don't want to have to think about us when deciding for your future!”

Harry became angry and he said, “Don't tell me what I want or don't want! I want you! I've always wanted you! And you told me that I didn't have to prove it to you!”

I cried even harder.

“I want to marry you, for heaven's sake! Doesn't that mean anything to you?”

“Of course it does, Harry,” I said, trying to stop crying. “I'm just so scared.”

“What?” He asked, his voice becoming a little more gentle. “What are you scared of?”

“I'm still afraid you'll end up walking away,” I finally sputtered out.

“I'm not Eric! I'm not walking away!” He shouted. “I want your girls to call me Daddy, and I even want to have more children with you. I'm never walking away! If you haven't figured that out by now, then I don't know when you will!”

“Maybe you just need more time to be sure, you know,” I said, my mousy voice not sounding very convincing.

“No, Lise! You're the one who needs more time! Let me know when you figure it out!”

And with that, he walked out and slammed the door behind him.

I threw myself onto my bed and cried myself to sleep. When I woke up a few hours later, I just laid there for a long time. What the hell was I doing? How would I get past this crippling fear that had suddenly gripped me so strongly? Why couldn't I just believe that Harry was strong enough to follow through with the commitment he wanted to make?

When my parents brought the girls home, I told them everything: about Harry's performance and the visit from Mr. Weatherfield. They were understandably excited for him.

But then I told them about my fear, about Harry wanting to marry me and adopt my girls and not needing more time. “Is he crazy to think that he can make this kind of commitment? Or am I crazy to not believe him?”

My dad hugged me tight and said, “Honey, Harry loves you. Does it really matter that he's young?”

“Doesn't it?” I asked him.

“How old was Eric when you got married?”

“25."

“Did that make him more ready for marriage and family?”

“No,” I said, absorbing the truth of what my dad was saying.

“And Harry is one of the most mature young men I know. And I know he loves you, honey. Let him decide when he's ready.”

I nodded, still listening intently to my dad's reasoning.

He finally said with a smirk, “He wants you to be his wife, not his mother.”

I cringed a little, but then I laughed in relief. “Thanks, Daddy,” I said, giving him a tight hug.

I invited my parents to stay for dinner so we could catch up, and they accepted. They had spent plenty of time with my girls, but I'd been so busy with work – and Harry – that I hadn't gotten a lot of time just to hang out with them.

We grilled hamburgers and ate out on the patio.

“Have you been in the pool yet?” My mom asked.

“A few times,” I answered. “But it's been cold, so the water isn't warmed up much yet.” As an afterthought, I told them, “Yesterday was Harold's birthday.”

“Of course, we remember his party last year. Hard to believe he was only 40. Such a tragic loss,” my mom said in a somber voice.

“Yeah,” I said, getting a little choked up.

“How is Harry doing?” My dad asked, clearly referring to Harry's grief.

“He's doing all right. He was having a hard time a few months ago, but I think he's doing better. But, you know, that's another reason that I don't want him to rush into anything. He's still grieving,” I said, sighing.

“Lise,” my mother said, in that listen-to-your-mother tone of voice. “You and Harry were in love a long time before his dad died.”

I started laughing and told her, “You sure sound a lot different than you did when I first told you about us.”

“Well, it was a little shocking at first,” she admitted. “But the idea has grown on us.”

“Grown on you?” I asked.

“That's putting it lightly, dear,” my dad said to her. Then he turned to me, “Harry is like family.”

“Thank you,” I said to both of them.

“So, what should I do now?” I asked.

“Just wait for Harry to cool off,” my father advised. “Give him a few days.”

That made sense. However, it took more than a few days for Harry to cool off. I wanted to give him his space, but I was getting worried when he didn't come over for a week.

Maybe he's given up on me, I thought. I wouldn't blame him. I have been treating him like a child.

Then I remembered his words to me before storming out of my house, “Let me know when you figure it out.”

I had to go to him.

When I got home from work one afternoon, I noticed Harry's car in his driveway. I asked my mom to stay for a bit so I could go and talk to him. It had been ten days since he walked out of my house.

“Sure, honey, but I can't stay long. I have to finish packing. We're leaving for vacation tomorrow, remember?”

My parents and my sister and her husband were going away for the weekend. Maggie had been so sick with her pregnancy that I'd hardly seen her. She was now in her third trimester and feeling a bit better. My parents had invited me to go as well – they were going to a music festival in Wisconsin – but I felt a little too overwhelmed at the moment to be able to get away for the weekend.

“Okay, Mom, I'll just be a few minutes.”

I walked across the yard and knocked on Harry's door. He opened the door and stared at me with a rigid expression.

“I'm sorry, Harry.” I said.

Other than blinking, he remained stoic.

“I love you, Harry. I love you so much.”

His features softened a little, but he didn't move toward me or invite me in. “I love you, too.”

“Can we talk?” I asked.

“I have to pack,” he said. “I'm leaving for LA tomorrow. For my meeting with Philip Weatherfield.”

“That's great! I'm so excited for you!” I gushed.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling a little. “Do you want to stay and help me to pack?”

“I'd love to, but my mom has to leave. She's going away for the weekend.”

“Well, then, how about if I come over after I'm finished?” He said, leaning in to give me a light kiss on the lips.

“Okay, see you in a few.”

My mom left quickly and I threw some dinner together for the girls and me, hoping Harry might come in time to join us. He showed up after dinner, and I offered him some leftovers, but he told me, “I already ate.”

We settled the girls in front of a movie and then sat down to talk.

Harry took my hand and said, “I love you, Lise, but you have to trust me when I say I'm ready.”

“I know,” I told him. “But maybe I'm not ready. I don't know.”

“What is it that's holding you back?” He asked.

“I already told you, Harry. Fear. Fear that you'll walk away just like Eric did.”

Instead of looking angry, Harry looked like I'd injured him. “Haven't I already been here more than Eric ever was?” He said, his jaw clenching.

“Yes,” I said in a small voice.

“Well, I don't know what else I can do to convince you. But before I leave for LA, I want you to know this: if you want us to be together, we'll make every decision about my career together. And I want us to make every decision about your family – our family – together. I'm not going to leave you because I love you and the girls with all my heart. But you're just going to have to trust me.”

I sat quietly absorbing his words, knowing that I had to choose to believe him, even if I was scared. But I just stared at him, slightly in shock that he was laying it all out so clearly.

When I didn't answer, he just said, “I guess you do need more time. See you when I get back." He walked out, shutting the door firmly behind him.