Song: "Honesty" By Billy Joel

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After a rough night's sleep, I was rather unenthusiastic about getting up so early to drive across town and get a change of clothes before I went in to work. But then I remembered something. "It's Thursday!" I practically shouted and Harry jolted awake next to me.

"Mmmrrrr...." Came Harry's standard morning greeting.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you but I had my alarm set for 5:30 but now I know I can sleep a few more hours. And boy do I need it."

No matter how grumpy he sounded when he first woke up, he always found his way to me under the blankets. Sliding his hand under my waist like a shepherd's hook, he pulled me to himself, my back pressing into his front. "Did you have more nightmares?" He asked.

"No, but that one was a doozy. It was just so...real." I shuddered, thinking about Cathryn's message to me. For the hundredth time, I shook my head and corrected that thought. It wasn't real. It was a dream and it meant nothing.

"I've got you now, my sweet. Not gonna let anything happen to you," he murmured. He breathed low and slow sending a warm puff over my cheek each time he exhaled. "And yes, I mean that. I  know you don't feel that way after last weekend, but I'm going to prove it to you."

"Thank you, Harry. That means a lot."

After a few more hours of sleep, I woke again, knowing this time I really had to get to my place soon to get ready for work. Harry brewed some coffee for us and we sat down to talk a little more before I left. "Are we still on for this weekend?" He asked something in his tone told me that he already knew what my answer would be.

"I think maybe we should wait to throw a party. Until we're over this bump in our relationship. I don't want to have to pretend everything's fine."

"So, it isn't  fine?" He looked worried.

I reached across the table for his hand. "I love you, Harry and I forgive you. Last night was amazing and I really did miss sleeping in your arms. But I think maybe I need a little more time to myself, to sort things out in my head."

His eyes fell into a little frown. "So what does that mean, practically speaking?"

"Let's not spend the night with each other for a while. And maybe give each other a few days between visits."

"Visits," he scoffed. "That sounds promising."

"No, no, Harry. I didn't mean it to sound like that. I'm still yours one hundred percent. I just need some time and space. The more you get to know me, the more you'll understand that I need solitude sometimes. Even when things are going well, I'm at my best when I have some time alone." I could see that he was relaxing, but I assured him again, "I love you."

"I love you, too," he said, his eyes lightening up a bit.

Our separation was self-imposed, but it didn't make it any easier for me, or for him. We texted back and forth pretty frequently, which we had agreed on because we still wanted to nip away at some of the issues. Since text messages can lend themselves to all kinds of misinterpretation, we also agreed that if either of us got really upset from a text conversation, our messaging would be suspended until we could talk properly, at least on the phone.

What surprised me was a text from Harry on Saturday morning. I went to see the Metlers again.

Really? I responded. I wasn't even there and those people had me on edge, thinking about they way they attacked me, at first subtly and then outright.

Harry replied, Yeah. I brought Cathryn's things over. They asked about coming to look through her other things. I told them no.

Regardless of the fact that they were arrogant and obnoxious, I felt a streak of remorse. They probably needed closure as much as Harry did. I answered quickly. Not my place to decide, but I think it might be good for them to come to the house one last time, especially if you sell it. I think it would be good for them to say good-bye.

From Harry: You think?

To Harry: Yeah, but it's your call.

From Harry: Okay, maybe I will. I gave them the boxes and some other keepsakes. But I started thinking about packing up dishes and things like that and realized that we had some of her family heirlooms, like her great grandma's china. I'm sure the Metlers would like to reclaim those kinds of things.

To Harry: Absolutely.

From Harry: Besides, Cathryn had so much stuff! I don't even want to move it all. lol. That one message gave me such relief to know that he was finding it easier to let go. And then another text quickly came after: Thanks.

To Harry: For what?

From Harry: For being here for me <3

To Harry: Of course. I love you.

From Harry: Love you too. Another message immediately followed. So when can I see you?

To Harry: How about today?

Harry didn't need any more assurance than that one text. He was at my apartment by noon. We decided to go out and finish our Christmas shopping together seeing as the holiday was only five days away. I had gotten most of mine done between Thanksgiving and my birthday weekend when I found way too many fun presents for my loved ones in Frankenmuth. But, as always, there were just a few last minute things to be done.

In addition, it was probably a better idea to be out and about rather than hanging out at my place. Being alone together usually led to activities of a physical nature, and as much as I enjoyed those, I needed that physical separation for a while. The close connection afforded by sexual intimacy made me weak in some ways, probably not necessarily bad ways but unique ways. I was much more likely to trust him when we made love, and afterwards consequently. After all, that was the core of intimacy - trusting another person with your entire being. Trust was inherently a good thing (that goes without saying) but not if it's a one-sided trust, and at this point, Harry still had some ground to make up.

Harry had also reminded me that we were going to go and see Handel's Messiah on the 22nd so that created another opportunity to see him but without the pressure of just being home and alone together.

For our shopping excursion, we decided to make the short drive to Howell to shop at the outlet mall there. It got us out of the city and still offered enough to keep us distracted the whole afternoon. We also decided to have dinner there, which again, was a good thing since we could avoid splitting a whole bottle of wine (or more) at my apartment and getting carried away.

"Do you think it will be hard to be apart from your parents on Christmas?" I asked. "I mean, it's your first Christmas without them after Cathryn died, right?" It surprised me how much easier it was to talk about her now, and I felt it from Harry too. Instead of hesitating, worrying about triggering a breakdown, we both seemed to speak of her passing in a more matter-of-fact way. Another good sign pointing towards his healing.

"I'm sure there will be moments. Honestly, I hadn't thought much about being lonely because I had assumed that you and I would..." He paused. "I don't want to pressure you about spending time together. But up until last weekend, I had just assumed we'd be spending the holidays together, so loneliness hadn't crossed my mind." He gave me a sad yet apologetic sort of smile.

I returned his smile with more enthusiasm than he was giving me. "Harry, of course I want to spend the holidays with you. I think my parents are planning on me, well us, on Christmas Eve. After that, I'm not sure. But how about if we make a plan before we say good-night tonight?"

"No rush," he said happily. It made me laugh though because it was kind of a rush with Christmas fast approaching. However, I deliberately changed the subject and asked Harry, "So did you say anything to the Metlers when you saw them again? About me, I mean?"

He looked a little bit lost. "Was I supposed to?"

I closed my eyes with the familiar pang of hurt that his reply injected into my heart. I tried not to overreact. "I just...I wish you would stand up for me and tell them that they treated me like absolute shit."

"What would that do?" He asked, seeming rather unaffected.

This time, his nonchalance about the whole thing pissed me off. "Harry! It would inform them that they hurt someone you loved and that you aren't going to tolerate it."

"Please keep your voice down," he said glancing around us to see if anyone else heard me. It was a noisy American bar and grill, so I thought he was getting a little too worked up about it.

"All I'm saying is that they need to know that they can't treat people that way," I huffed, pushing my food away defiantly.

"Regan, listen to me," he said carefully. He took both my hands and made sure I was really listening, which I was. "They have been insufferable, snobby egomaniacs for all the years I've known them. They're narcissists, if you hadn't noticed. The reason I didn't think about it is that until last weekend, I had never really stood up to them. I had never wanted to rock the boat."

"So you shook it up for everyone except me," I answered in much too snippy of a voice. I knew I sounded selfish. He had a lot to deal with, but I wanted to know that he was going to defend me under any circumstance.

"I told you that their behavior towards you surprised me. And I just told you what pretentious bullies they've always been, but they usually contain it to a more subtle snobbery than the outright disrespect they showed you. Please believe me when I say that I'm very sorry for not defending you in that moment. I was equally floored by their behavior, but the result of that for me was that every single condescending comment and action from all my years of knowing them came flooding back. That's why I unleashed all that bottled up hurt about my father. I know I shouldn't have-"

I stopped him right there. "Harry, you had every right to tell that arrogant bastard that you knew what he said, and that it wasn't okay to talk about your father that way."

"I guess you're right," he agreed.

"I know I'm right!" I interjected.

"I just...agh, he's always been so intimidating. I was always afraid to stand up to him. I wanted to keep the peace for Cathryn's sake." That particular admission stirred up some new questions in my brain but they would have to wait for another time. 

"But Harry, you did it," I encouraged him. "You finally told him, no more!"

"Yeah," he said, a small but proud smile appearing on his lips. Then a revelation hit him, clear as day, and I knew exactly what it was. "Aww shit, Regan, I'm sorry." 

"I know," I said calmly.

"I let him speak badly of my father for so many years because I was afraid of him and....I'm sorry, that's exactly what I was doing when you were there, except when I finally found the courage to stand up to him, I still didn't think to protect you." He was breathing hard, blinking away the rising emotion. "I wanted you there to help me to be strong, but I wasn't strong for you." 

Bingo. He got it. And I didn't have to say anything else. I couldn't ever imagine a member of my family or a close friend acting the way the Metlers did, but I knew in my heart that I would defend Harry's honor in a heartbeat if it came down to it.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I honestly didn't think of it when I went to see them again because I was so determined just to get in and out of there as fast as I could."

"No, I get it. I understand why it might not be the first thing on your mind when you went over there. You have a history with them, something of which I've only caught a glimpse, so I can't make those judgments. I'm sorry, too, for not trying harder to understand."

He squeezed both hands tightly, as they were still grasped firmly in his. "You couldn't even begin to imagine what I've had to deal with since they came into my life." I laughed at his dramatic eye roll. "Now that my eyes are open, I can only hope I don't miss something that big in the future. I really never meant to hurt you." 

"I know, Harry. I know."

* * * * *

Well, I guess I fibbed a little about updating Finding Niall first. This story is still playing itself out in my mind, so I figured I'd better strike while the iron its hot.

Just a note about Harry's nickname for Regan: I got it from Keith Tomlinson, Louis' grandfather by his mother's marriage to Mark Tomlinson. I got to know him on Twitter and we sent messages back and forth regularly. There are several other friends here who had a similar relationship with him. He was such a loving soul, eager to listen to me work through things and to offer non-judgmental support. One day when I logged on, his greeting was, "Jen, how are you today, my sweet?" (I'm sure he had nice little greetings for all his friends) I loved it because he lent me a fatherly ear for a year and a half before he passed away. My own father loved me, of course, but he was never a confidante. It was nice to have that for a short while. I told Keith more than once that he was like a therapist for me, and I meant it every time. The first anniversary of his death is coming up, but my Twitter messages with Keith still sit in my inbox and I occasionally read through them, just to remember his friendship.

Keith sent me this message after reading my "Open Letter to Harry Styles" and it just cracked me up. 

May he rest in peace <3