Volver a Tus Brazos

“Güerito . . .” she moaned softly, staring directly into his lust filled eyes. “Soy tuya. Solamente tuya, güerito. (I’m yours. Only yours, güerito).”

That was it. Those few breathlessly uttered words were enough to send him over the edge. He loved hearing her speak in Spanish, there was something about it that was just so sensual, and so he lost himself in her words. He clutched her tightly as his orgasm tore through him, rendering him immobile. His face was buried in her dark curls, relishing in the scent of her shampoo. It was as if nothing had ever happened between them, as if they’d never parted on that terrible day in July, but then he slowly began to regain his senses, he became rational enough to understand that the dark haired beauty lying beneath him wasn’t his beloved Paulina, but instead a waitress by the name of Araceli Guzman.

She had been with him since her shift ended at a local restaurant. She hadn’t intended to go home with him, her plan for the night had been to finish up work and then go to her house to get some studying done for upcoming finals, but he was so fucking charming and looked at her as if she were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She couldn’t resist him, not when he stared at her like that. He was completely taken in by her lightly tan skin and dark curls. She was a bit on the thin side, there wasn’t much of an ass on her, but her curls and dark brown eyes were enough to captivate him.

As such, he flirted shamelessly with her and invited her to go to a bar that his military buddies frequented. He knew he was being forward, but he didn’t care. He needed her company, he needed to hear her speak Spanish, he needed to run his hands through her dark curls, he needed to fuck her, because she was going to take away the loneliness, if only for a little while. That was why he charmed her. He played the part of a fairytale Prince, and she was so taken by him, that she not only went him to the bar, she even invited him back to her place. She lived at home with her parents and siblings, but they were gone for the holiday weekend, having taken the three and a half hour drive to Los Angeles so they could spend Thanksgiving with their extended family. She was actually going to drive out there in morning, that had always been the plan, but after fucking Harry, she didn’t remember the long drive that lay ahead or the finals that were coming up, she couldn’t even remember her own name. Her mind had gone blank. And all she could do was lay beneath him, red faced and breathless.

It was quite some time before either of them could move. After sex with these women, Harry always felt guilty, as if he’d just been unfaithful, which was ridiculous of course, given the fact that Paulina had broken up with him nearly sixteen months earlier, but although his mind understood that, his heart didn’t. It scolded him for having shagged some random bird, it mocked him for having been stupid enough to think that some random Mexican-American bird with dark brown curls and lightly tan skin would be able to take Paulina’s place. His heart was merciless in its criticism, and it throbbed with such violent emotion, that it was enough to turn Harry’s mood. The young woman that lay beneath him was no longer beautiful, she wasn’t even pretty, she was plain, which wasn’t true, she was actually quite lovely, but he couldn’t see her beauty, all he could see was that she wasn’t Paulina. And that was enough to ruin her in his eyes.

Without uttering a word, he removed her legs from around his waist and then rolled onto the side of her. He didn’t want to be there anymore. He didn’t want to lay in bed with her. He didn’t want to make small talk. He didn’t want to breathe the same air as her. All he wanted was to get the fuck out of there, because in his mind, he’d been tricked. He had been lured to that home under false pretenses. She had smiled and batted her eyelashes, she had twirled her dark brown curls around her finger, she had conversed with him in Spanish, she had been so much like his darling that he eagerly charmed her, because in his desperation he deluded himself into believing that Araceli would be enough to rid his heart of Paulina, but just like all the others, Araceli left him unsatisfied. She left him feeling like he’d been taken for a fool, but the twenty-one year old was completely oblivious to all that.

She didn’t know he was angry at her or that he thought himself a victim. Had she known all that, she would’ve laughed and told him to get the fuck over himself, but thankfully for Harry and his ego, she was blissfully unaware that the prince who’d just fucked her, was now thinking about his old girlfriend. She was far too occupied with steadying her breathing and processing what had happened. She knew he wasn’t going to be there in the morning. She wasn’t naïve enough to think he’d stick around to fix her breakfast or that their one night stand would magically transform into a serious relationship. She knew that what had happened in the early hours of the morning inside her bedroom, was all that would ever happen between them, and instead of trying to prolong her time with him, she decided to do them both a favor and fell asleep.

He didn’t leave right away. He was afraid she might wake up and make things awkward, that was what happened with the last bird he shagged. He thought she was fast asleep, but then the eighteen year old beauty snapped open her eyes and called him an asshole. He hoped to avoid a similar scenario. So he lay beside her in the cramped, full size bed, and when her snores finally filled the room, he slipped out of bed, careful not to make unnecessary movements or sounds.

He fumbled about in the darkness, struggling to find his discarded clothes. He thought he’d left them at the foot of the bed, he always tried to leave them in a little pile, but apparently that night he’d been so eager to bed Araceli that he’d forgot to make things easier for himself later on. So he wandered around the room until he found his underwear and his pants, his socks and his button down, and when he was fully dressed, he grabbed some tissues from the nightstand and rolled up his used condom. It was a gross thing to do, he knew that, but he’d been doing it for years. Whenever he had a one night stand or was casually shagging someone, he always took the condom with him, because he didn’t want to risk having children with those women.

Fully dressed and with his condom in tissues, he exited the room and made his way down the hall. The house was small, which worked to Harry’s advantage. He easily found his way to the living room where Alistair stood waiting for him. They didn’t speak. They never did after these things. Alistair simply motioned to the door, just to make sure Harry was ready to leave, and when Harry nodded in confirmation, the pair made their way outside where they met up with Kamal, whom was standing guard at the door. It was absurd to have Kamal out there, no one was going to attack the prince, nobody knew he was there, not even the fucking press had realized that he’d left with Araceli, but still, the security details followed protocol. When they first arrived, they did a sweep of the house and then took their places, one outside and one inside. They had a rotation system, where every hour they would switch places, that was how they always worked, but on that night, Alistair and Kamal didn’t get the chance to switch places, because on that night, Harry wasn’t even there an hour. To be honest, he hadn’t even been there fifty minutes. He just went in, shagged, and left.

And that worried Alistair and Kamal.

They had been with Harry long enough to know his one night stands were a sort of therapy for him, and he always took his time with whichever bird he was shagging. That’s why they thought it strange for Harry to be leaving so soon. Surely, he couldn’t have had his fill already. Fifty minutes was hardly enough time for one go, and from their experiences with standing guard while Harry shagged, they knew he liked to at least go at it twice, but there he was, walking out, looking absolutely miserable.

“Would you care to stop at the chemists, Sir?” inquired Alfred, hoping to see whether Harry had left the house because he needed to buy condoms.

“No,” replied Harry, not bothering to look at Alistair. He was far too busy reaching for the tequila bottle that he and Araceli had forgotten in the vehicle. “Take me to the hotel.”

That said, Harry opened up the bottle and drank. In the sixteen months following the breakup, he’d become quite the tequila enthusiast. Whenever he went out, he had it poured into whiskey glasses so he could drink at his leisure. His mates told him he was mad for drinking tequila like that, they argued it had to be taken as a shot and that it had to be accompanied with lime and salt, but Harry paid them no mind. He drank it like Paulina and her family drank it. He drank it to feel close to her.

By the time they arrived at the Holiday Inn Express, Harry was off his face. He’d had quite a bit to drink earlier in the night, having slung back several beers and tequila filled whiskey glasses, but he had kept himself from going overboard because he didn’t want to risk passing out in the stranger’s bed. He needed to be sober enough to sneak out, and since he’d already done that, he thought it only right to indulge in the delicious tequila that Araceli had recommended. So he drank and he drank and he drank until the pain in his heart was slightly more bearable, because the more he drank, the less he remembered the breakup. It deluded him into believing that Paulina was still very much his, and that was why he drank so eagerly. That was why he didn’t put down the bottle until there was nothing left. Would he throw up at some point? Of course. He would undoubtedly spend the night with a rubbish bin next to the bed just in case he had to let it out, but that was alright.

“Oi!” he drunkenly exclaimed. “Ya there, Alistair?”

“I am indeed, Sir.” Alfred dutifully replied.

“Then why can’t I see you?”

Alistair took off his seatbelt and turned to have a look at Harry. “Sir,” he began, “Your eyes are closed.”

“I reckon I’d know if my eyes were –” he stopped short, suddenly realizing that his eyes were closed. “Fucking hell, mate. I didn’t realize they were. I was thinking that . . . well, it doesn’t matter what I was thinking, what matters is that I need a favor.”

“And what would that be, Sir?” inquired Alfred.

“Take me to a flower shop.”

“Pardon?”

“Ya heard me!” exclaimed Harry. “I needs a flower shop so I can get a massive thing of sunflowers for Paulin, because I show up like this, she’s gonna tell me off.”

Alistair and Kamal shared an uneasy look.

“Come on then!” he bellowed. “It’s a bloody emergency! Don’t ya understand I need fucking sunflowers? Or do ya want my arse to sleep on the fucking couch? She’s done it to me before.”

“Might I propose an alternative, Sir?” Kamal spoke up.

“What’s it?” slurred Harry.

“I think Miss Balcázar might prefer to have the sunflowers given to her in the morning. That way she can appreciate their beauty in the light.”

“Ya mean to say ya want me to sleep on the fucking couch?” Harry blurted out, his eyes struggling to remain open. “Honestly Kamal, I thought ya looked out for me!”

“I am, Sir.” Kamal assured.

“Then get me some bloody flowers!” Harry demanded.

“There is no need for flowers at present, because Miss Balcázar is not in the room.” Alistair spoke. “She is in one of the hotel media rooms, assisting Professor . . .” he forgot her fucking name.

“Warren,” Kamal chimed in. “She’s assisting her with a speech she has to deliver tomorrow afternoon. That’s why Miss Balcázar is not in the room.”

“And since she’s not in the room, she won’t know that you’ve had a bit much too drink.” Alistair added.

“That’s right,” said Harry. “I’ll be sleeping by time she gets in.”

“Precisely, Sir.” Alistair smiled indulgently.

“And when we wake up, you two can have flowers in the living area,” Harry told them, his eyes beginning to flutter shut.

“We’ll personally see that a beautiful arrangement is made for Miss Balcázar.” Kamal always felt bad when they indulged Harry’s drunken thoughts, but it was a hell of a lot better than when they tried to explain that Paulina had left him.

“And you’ll fetch her coffee?” Harry asked.

“Yes, Sir.” It was Alistair who replied that time. “We’ll see that the coffee is prepared to her liking. Is there anything else you would like done for the morning? Anything you believe Miss Balcázar might be keen on?”

“Coffee and sunflowers,” muttered Harry. “That’s all she needs. That and her güerito, of course.”

It didn’t matter how many times Harry had said that in the past, it always broke Alistair’s heart.

“But of course, Sir,” said Alistair. “Now then, I think it right we escort you upstairs. You must be rested for the morning.”

“Open the bloody door then.” Harry grumbled.

Alistair did as he was told. He opened the passenger door, hoping that Harry would be able to get out on his own and stand up. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Harry couldn’t even take his bloody seat belt off. He just sort of lay there, slumped against the seat. It was clear he wasn’t going to get to the room on his own, but Alistair and Kamal didn’t want to carry him in. They didn’t want to risk someone taking a picture of Harry being drunkenly carried inside.

“Sir, do you think you could manage to stand a bit?” Alistair asked him.

There was no response from Harry. In the time that it took Alistair to exit the vehicle and open the passenger door, Harry had passed out.

“Bloody hell.” Alistair cursed under his breath.

“He’s fallen asleep, hasn’t he?” inquired Kamal. He had turned off the engine and gone round to help Alistair. “It was only a matter of time before it happened.

“I know,” said Alistair. “But I’d hoped he would at least make it to the elevator. Now we’re going to have to get him in without no one noticing.”

“Well the good thing is that the place is practically deserted.” Kamal walked over to the entrance and saw that there were no guests in the lobby. The only person in sight was the receptionist. “There’s a lady at the main desk. She’s the only one in there.”

“One person is enough to make a mess of things.”

“Right then, give me a minute. I’ll distract her.”

“What do ya mean to do?” inquired Alistair.

“Flirt, obviously.” Kamal fixed his jacket. “I’m an attractive man with a British accent, there’s no American bird that could resist that. Now I’ll keep her busy while you carry His Royal Highness inside.”

Kamal was right. The receptionist almost immediately fell for his charm. Not that she could be blamed. It wasn’t every day that a handsome Brit that looked like he could be Agent 007, came around those parts. So she enjoyed the attention he paid her. She smiled at him and batted her eyelashes. She laughed like she had in her early twenties. She was so focused on flirting with Kamal that she didn’t even notice when Alistair came in with Harry in his arms.

In fact, Alistair was actually able to make it to their suite without being seen by anyone at all. He knew there would undoubtedly be security footage of him carrying Prince Harry, but that video would not be leaked to the public, a large corporation like that wouldn’t want to piss off royalty. That was why Alistair entered the suite feeling completely at ease. Yes, he was going to have to deal with an irritable Harry in the morning, but at least there would be no horrid pictures in circulation. That would spare him a telling from headquarters, because the last thing Alistair needed was to be told off on his first night back with Harry. He had been apart from the young prince for two months. Harry had insisted on being without security during his training, so he’d been on his own in Arizona and California, and now that the training was done with, Kamal and Alistair had come to fetch him home.

They were scheduled to fly out in the morning. They had to catch a flight from Calexico, CA to San Diego, CA at 9 in the morning. Once in San Diego, they would transfer over to a nonstop British Airways flight that would take them home. There was a one hour layover between flights, but Harry wouldn’t have to wait at the terminal, because as soon as he landed in San Diego, he would be ushered to his first class seat aboard British Airways. That was the plan for the morning. That was why Alistair had insisted that Harry get a decent night’s sleep, but Harry had ignored Alistair’s request. He had drank excessively and shagged. He had made it so Alistair had to carry him in and put him to bed. Not that Alistair would complain about that. He’d been putting Harry to bed for years. So he gently took off his boots and socks, removed his clothes, only leaving him in his boxers, and then he covered him up with the sheets and blankets that had been provided. He had made Harry as comfortable as he possibly could, but that wasn’t enough for Alfred.

On those nights, he preferred to stay in the room with Harry, just in case the prince needed to throw up or couldn’t get to the loo in time. The other security details teased him over that, they said he was like an overly paranoid mother, but Alistair couldn’t help it. He had spent the majority of his adult life protecting Harry, and he wasn’t about to let anything bad happen to him. That was why he rushed over to the bedroom he shared with Kamal, and quickly changed into a pair of pajamas. He then grabbed his pillow and blanket off the bed and went right back to Harry’s room. Once inside, he fixed himself a makeshift bed to the right of Harry’s, and before he laid down for the night, he placed a rubbish bin beside him, just in case Harry had to throw up.

Satisfied with his arrangements, he decided to take one last at Harry. He knew it was absurd of him, but whenever the prince drank excessively, Alistair always worried that he might choke on his own vomit and die. That was why he made a habit of sneaking into the room to check up on him, even when Harry had birds over, Alistair would quietly go in, make sure that everything was alright, and slip out. The only exception was when Harry was with Paulina, because Alistair trusted her, he knew that there was no one better to look after Harry than her, but then the relationship ended and Harry attempted to drown his sorrows, and once more Alistair started checking up on him. He tried to be as discreet as possible, he never made any noise, he would just stare at his face, put his finger under Harry’s nose to check he was still breathing, and then he would go to sleep, but on that night it wasn’t so easy.

Because when Alistair went to look at Harry, he didn’t see a drunken young man that had had a bit too much to drink, he saw a man that was in pain. He saw a man that was crying. Worried that something might not be right with the prince, that the alcohol had poisoned him, Alistair made a move to wake him, but just as he was reaching out to touch him, the young prince began muttering in his sleep.

Alistair couldn’t make out what Harry was saying, the words were slurred and he kept randomly switching between English and Spanish, but then, after listening attentively for several minutes, there was finally a word that he understood, except it wasn’t a word.

It was a name.

It was Thea.

“Thea,” he said her name affectionately, and despite the tears that were sliding down his face, a little smile graced his lips. “You’ve got to get down from there.”

Alistair took a step back. He couldn’t wake Harry anymore. He refused to rouse him from that dream, because as a man who had lost his wife and daughters, Alistair knew how precious those dreams were. So he made his way outside and let Harry continue dreaming of his little Thea.

“I’m going to count to three and if you’re not down by then, ya won’t be going to the airport with me.”

“You promised I could!”

“That was before ya started climbing about the trees like a little monkey.” Harry stated, doing his best to remain stern. “It was funny at first, but now you’ve climbed to high and I’ll not risk you getting hurt.”

“I won’t get hurt, daddy. I promise.”

“As lovely as it is to hear you promise, I’m afraid that won’t be enough.” Harry stepped closer. He was right underneath the branch his daughter was sitting on. “Now get down, otherwise you won’t be able to hold up the sign you made for your abuelitos (grandparents). And you were up all night making it. It’d be a pity if they didn’t see it.” He waited for her to get down, but she didn’t move or say anything. “Alright then, I’m counting.” He took in a deep breath. “One . . .” he heard her giggle. “. . . two . . . two and a quarter . . . two and a half . . . two and three quarters . . . and three!” He held his arms open and sure enough, at the last moment, she jumped right into them. This exchange was so commonplace between father and daughter that Harry already knew to brace himself for her jump, which was why he didn’t lose his footing when she leapt into his arms. “Canelita,” he said affectionately, ruffling her fiery curls. “You’ve got to start listening on the first go.”

“But that’s no fun, daddy.”

“It’s not meant to be,” he said with a laugh. “You’re meant to listen, because I’ve your best interest at heart. And I know you’re keen on climbing, truly I do, but it’s a bit dangerous. You could fall off and break your arm or worse.”

“Don’t be silly, daddy.” The five year old said dismissively. “I’ll never fall.”

“Even the best climbers have an off day.”

“Doesn’t matter, because you’ll catch me.” And she smiled, that cheeky little smile that she’d inherited from him. “Won’t you?”

“That’s beside the point.” Harry did his best not to appear amused by her. “Because what if daddy’s hurt and he can’t catch you?”

“Then mummy will.” Her dark brown eyes twinkled mischievously. That, she’d inherited from her mother.

“Mummy can’t.” He reminded.

“My abuelitos will,” she said, very matter-of-factly. “And Papa Charles too. He says I can climb on all the trees I want. That’s what we do when he takes me to –”

“Güerito!” came a pained cry from inside the house. “It’s time!”

Harry didn’t bother putting Theodora down. He kept hold of her rand ran right into the house, where he found his wife waddling around the kitchen. She massaged her back as she walked around the space, and was doing the breathing exercises she’d learned during her first pregnancy.

“Mummy!” Theodora cried out. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, my love.” Paulina replied, coming to a stop in front of her husband and daughter. “Mummy’s just getting ready to have Margaret.”

“But you said she’s be here next week!” exclaimed Theodora.

“I did say that,” she replied. “But your sister is just so excited to meet you that she couldn’t wait another week.” Paulina gritted her teeth and breathed in deeply as another contraction struck her. They were coming in every seven minutes and were lasting thirty seconds. “She told me that she wants to see you today or at the latest, tomorrow.”

Theodora pursed her lips together and contemplated what to do. Didn’t her sister know that their abuelitos weren’t there and that Papa Charles wasn’t going to be in England until next week? She’d chosen a horrible time to come, and the little girl was determined to tell her so.

“Put me down, daddy.” She demanded, and her father complied. “I’ve got to talk to my sister.” She walked over to her mother’s massive belly and placed her little hand on it. “I know you’re in there,” she said. “And I know you’re keen to see me and I’m keen to see you to, but you can’t come out yet. Alright? Our abuelitos aren’t here yet. Daddy and I haven’t picked them up from the airport and our Papa Charles is in Malta. And our uncles aren’t here either! It’s just mummy and daddy and me. So you have to promise to stay in there at least until we fetch our abuelitos from the airport. Promise?”

“My love,” spoke Paulina in a strained voice. “I promise your sister won’t come until your abuelitos get here, and I promise that your daddy and I are gonna call Papa Charles and all your uncles and aunts to see if they can come visit, but for right now, we have to get mummy to the hospital.”

“But I want my abuelitos!” Theodora huffed.

“I want them too.” Paulina’s voice trembled. “That’s why you and daddy are going to drop me off at the hospital and then you’ll go to the airport for them.”

“Absolutely not.” Harry finally spoke up. “You’re mad if you think I’ll leave you and Margaret.”

“We won’t be alone.” She promised him. “I sent Alistair a text. He’ll meet us at the hospital.”

“Then he can pick up your parents, because I’m not leaving you alone, not for one moment.” He placed his left hand on her hip and with his right, he tenderly rubbed her belly. “This is my place, and I’m not leaving it.”

“What about my sign?” Theodora had worked very hard on it, and was not about to let it go to waste.

“You can go with Uncle Alistair.” Paulina told her daughter. “But you have to promise you’ll listen to him. I don’t want a repeat of the museum.”

“But I only –”

“Theodora,” Paulina was stern in her tone and she gave her daughter the look that her own mother had often shot her during her childhood. “This isn’t open for discussion. You either listen to Uncle Alistair or stay at the hospital with your daddy and me. You choose.”

“I’ll listen to Uncle Alistair.” Theodora stared up at her mum. “And I promise not to run off like I did at the museum.”

“Then go fetch your coat and your sign.” Paulina told her. “When you’re done, wait in the living room because mummy and daddy have to fetch a few things.” With a smile on her lips, she watched as her daughter ran out of the kitchen and into the hallway. “I still can’t believe she’s gonna be a big sister. It feels like just yesterday I found out I was pregnant with her.”

“We’ve come a long way since then. Haven’t we?”

“We have.” She agreed. “And I’m so proud of the life we’ve made. And I know I don’t say it enough, but thank you.”

“What for?” he asked, confused by her words.

“For always being there for us.” There were tears in her eyes. “I know it wasn’t easy giving up your title, but I’m so glad you did, because I can’t imagine life without our little family.”

“You’re wrong.” Harry interrupted her. “It was easy. Perhaps not for everyone else, but it was for me. I know I was a prat at first, didn’t take too warmly to it, but once the shock wore off, I knew what I had to do and I never doubted myself.”

“Henry . . .” she began.

“You and the girls are my life.” His voice cracked as he spoke. “And being their father and your husband, is loads better than being a prince.” He removed his hand from her belly and placed it on her hip. He then pulled her in close so that her belly was pressed against him. “I love you, Mrs. Mountbatten-Windsor.”

“Then kiss me, Mr. Mountbatten-Windsor.”

With a massive grin on his face, he lowered his lips to meet his wife’s, but just as they were about to brush against hers, she vanished. There was no trace of her or Theodora or their cottage in Hampshire. Instead he stood alone in Buckingham Palace.

“Paulina!” he cried out, hoping to find his wife. “Paulina! Thea! For God’s sake, one of you answer!”

He sprinted through the corridors, desperate to find his wife and daughter, but they never responded to his frantic cries. He asked every staff member he came across, whether or not they’d seen them, but they never replied, they just stared at him as if he were mad. It wasn’t until he ran into Alistair that someone finally spoke to him.

“Alistair!” Harry bellowed as he ran up to him. “You’ve got to help me find them! They were with me a moment ago, but then – well, I don’t fucking know what happened, all I know is that I’ve got to find her and Thea. She’s about to have Margaret. She can’t be alone. She can’t!”

“Sir,” Alistair spoke calmly. “Do forgive me, but I do not know who it is you speak of.”

“What?” he snapped. “How can you not know? She just sent you a bloody text saying she’s gone into labor.”

“I have received no such message, Sir.”

“Bullshit!” Harry hissed. “Give me your mobile!”

The mobile was immediately handed over, and Harry wasted no time in checking the message bin, but there was nothing from Paulina. He thought perhaps she might’ve sent it to one of Alistair’s other phones so he demanded that those also be given to him, but none of them contained any messages from her. Deciding that it’d be best just to call her, he went into Alistair’s contacts, fully expecting her to be on there, but she wasn’t listed on any of his phones.

“Why don’t ya have her number?” he questioned, gruffly.

“Whose number?” Alistair asked.

“My wife’s!” he shrieked. Harry expected an immediate response, but Alistair simply stood there, looking at him as if he’d gone mad. “Why don’t you have her bloody number?”

“Have you been drinking?” Alistair cautiously asked.

“Of course not! I’ve been looking after Thea all morning. What kind of a father would I be if I –”

“You’re not a father!” Alistair firmly stated. “There is no Thea. You have no wife.”

Infuriated by Alistair, Harry reacted violently. He forcefully shoved him away, causing him to lose his footing and stumble backwards. Despite having nearly fallen over, it was Harry’s best interest that Alistair had in mind.

“You’re not well, Sir.” He told him. “You’re rambling on about a family that you don’t have.”

“I do have them!” Harry bellowed. “And you know it! You’ve been to our cottage. For fucks sake, you’re Uncle Alistair! Thea bloody loves you and Paulin always sets a place for you at the table.”

“Miss Balcázar?” repeated Alistair, questioningly.

“Mrs. Mountbatten-Windsor.” Harry corrected. “She’s my wife and I’m her husband. That’s why I’ve got this.” He lifted his left hand, but when he did, his platinum wedding band wasn’t there. “I’ve lost the ring! You’ve got to help me find it.”

“There is no ring, Harry.” Alistair felt it necessary to be direct. “Just likes there’s no Thea or Mrs. Mountbatten-Windsor.” He hesitated before continuing. “Paulina left you after the accident. She’s been gone nearly a year and a half.”

“Liar!”

“I wish I were lying,” said Alistair. “But Miss Balcázar left. You have no family with her.”

“But I do!” cried Harry. His eyes were filled with tears. “We’ve a daughter together and another one on the way, so don’t you bloody tell me that I don’t have a family with her, because I bloody well do!” his voice cracked near the end. He had to take a moment to compose himself enough to talk. “And if you’re not gonna help me find them, then fuck off, because I’ll get my girls. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll find ‘em.”

“Then take out your mobile and give her a ring.”

Harry didn’t say anything. He simply grabbed his phone out of his pocket and dialed her number, but instead of hearing her voice, he received an automated machine stating that the number was no longer in service. He dialed once more, hoping that that time the call would go through and that he’d be able to talk to his wife and daughter, but he received the same message.

“Why isn’t it working?” he whispered.

“Because she changed her number,” answered Alistair. “She’s changed it several times, actually.”

“She can’t have.” Harry argued. “She –”

“You have to stop tormenting yourself like this!” demanded Alistair. And it was then, that Harry noticed the tears in his eyes. “I understand that your heart aches for her, truly I do, but you cannot permit that ache to delude you into believing you’ve had a family with her.”

“It’s not a delusion.” Harry argued. “I have. I know I have.”

“You can repeat that until you go hoarse, but the truth of the matter is that she miscarried and then returned to America. That is what happened, harry. You know it is. So enough of these delusions, because you have no wife, you have no daughter.”

“Then what do I have?” he sobbed.

“You’ve a promising military career. You are to be deployed once more to –”

“That’s it?”

“Not at all.” Alistair assured. “You have Sentebale. You have Walking with the Wounded. You have the Olympics to help with. You have your health and your family.”

“A load of rubbish, that’s all that is.” Harry grumbled. “None of that matters.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Then differ,” said Harry. “But you know I’m right. You know none of that matters. It’s all a bloody distraction to keep me from feeling so empty all the time.” He choked up. “I had a family, Alistair. And I’m praying that I went into shock after Paulina told me she’d gone into labor. I’m hoping that I fainted and that when I wake up, she’ll be at my side, fussing over me, because I can’t live without her. I need my wife. I need my daughters. Without them, I have nothing.”

“That is not –”

“It is true.” Harry cut him off, knowing very well what Alistair had planned to say. “Now make yourself useful and punch me in the fucking face, because my wife’s in labor and I need to wake up.”

“You’re not dreaming!”

“Of course I am,” said Harry. “Now hit me.”

“I will not.”

“That’s an order!” Harry barked.

“To hell with your order!” bellowed Alistair.

“Fine then. I’ll bloody do it myself.” He grabbed a vase off the table, a heavy old thing that was centuries old and he lifted it over his head.

“What are you doing?” Alistair moved towards him. “Put that down. For God’s sake, put it down!”

“You wouldn’t punch me.” Harry told him. “Now I’ve got to do this. I’ll wake my own arse up.”

“But you’re not dreaming!” Alistair cried out. “You’ll die!”

“S’alright,” said Harry. “I either wake up to my girls or I never have to go another day without them.”

Alistair lunged at him, determined to get the fucking vase of his hands, but Harry was quick, he let go of the vase and it was soon sent hurling onto his head. He expected to wake up on the kitchen floor of his cottage, to see his wife standing over him with a look of maddening concern, he expected to hear his daughter asking about what had happened to daddy, he even expected to never wake again, what he didn’t expect was that he would wake up in a dark hotel room in El Centro, but that was exactly what happened.

He quite literally woke up crying and calling out to the wife and daughters that had been so real in his dreams. His drunken mind thought that there had to be truth in what he’d experienced. It believed that Paulina and Thea and little Margaret weren’t just a drunken dream, but that they were his reality. So he sat up in his bed and called out to them. He even tried to get out of bed, but he stumbled and fell. It was then that Alistair rushed inside and his heart broke at the sight of Harry.

“Did ya take her to the hospital?” Harry slurred as he spoke. “I reckon ya must’ve or maybe ya came over to the house because I fainted like a fool, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is how she the girls are doing.” He grimaced as Alistair lifted him back onto the bed. “How are my girls? Did Margaret come yet? I hope not. I meant to be in the room, ya know.”

“Sir, I do not understand what it is you speak of.”

“Don’t be daft, Alistair.” Harry grumbled. “Ya know what I’m talking about. She bloody sent you a text.”
It was then that Kamal entered the room. Alistair immediately looked towards him, hoping that Kamal had received a message from whoever it was that Harry was rambling on about, but before he even had a chance to ask Kamal, Harry threw a fit.

“What are ya doin’ here?” he asked. “Ya don’t work for me. You’ve not . . .” he hiccupped “. . . been with me since I was stripped of my titles. Only Alistair’s stuck around with me. So what cha doin’ here?”

“Forgive me, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kamal slowly entered the room. “I work for you, Sir.”

“No!” Harry bellowed. “Ya work for Wills and Kate. You’ve worked for them ever since Gran threw me out of the family.”

“Her Majesty the Queen has done no such thing.” Kamal stated. “You are Prince Harry of Wales, third in line to the throne.”

“I’m Henry Mountbatten-Windsor.” He drunkenly corrected. “And I was taken out, though I don’t blame her, because I knew she’d do it. She had to.” He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. “Now tell me, where’s Wills? Is he at hospital with Paulina? And her parents, are they here? Who picked them up from the airport? You were supposed to do that, Alistair. Did Paulin tell you? And she said Thea could go along, made her promise not to run off on you like she did at the museum.”

“You are drunk, Harry.” Alistair thought it best to be direct. “You need to sleep.”

“Not until I see my wife!” he protested. “I need to make sure she’s s’alright.”

“Wife?” Kamal repeated.

“Alistair!” bellowed Harry. “Take me to her!”

“Do you truly think you’re fit to see her in these conditions?” Alistair went along with the delusion. “I daresay she’d be terribly ashamed to have you visit her in your present state.”

“I’m only a bit woozy.” He told him. “Don’t ya know I fainted in the kitchen?”

“Is that what you think happened? Because Mrs. Mountbatten-Windsor told me that you got into the wine.”

“I did not!” argued Harry. “I was looking after Thea all morning. I didn’t get any fucking wine.”

“Ya did,” said Alistair, sternly. “She told me ya did. And then when she told you that it was time to go to hospital, she said that you were so drunk that you passed out on the kitchen floor.”

“I wouldn’t . . . I wasn’t drinking! I knows it.”

“Then why are you slurring?” Alistair asked him.

“I’m not!”

“You are,” said Alistair. “Now get to bed.”

“But I need to see my wife!” Harry protested. “She needs me!”

“Rest assured that Mrs. Mountbatten-Windsor is quite alright.”

“But Margaret –” Harry began.

“Has not yet been born.” Alistair interjected. “Mrs. Mountbatten-Windsor is still early on in the labor process. Several hours will undoubtedly pass before she gives birth. Now do sleep, because she will throw you out of the hospital room if you go see her in that condition.”

“I want to be with her though.” Harry mumbled.

“You will be present at the birth, Sir. I have made arrangements to ensure that. Now sleep.” Alistair went to the bed and covered Harry up with the sheet and blanket. “I will wake you when it is time to travel to the hospital, now good night.”

The security details stood there until Harry fell asleep, and when he did, they made their way out to the living area to discuss what had just happened.

“What just happened in there?” asked Kamal. “Because he’s been proper smashed before and he’s never been like that.”

“I know,” said Alistair.

“You don’t think he’s finally lost it, do you?”

“I hope not.” It was then that Alistair dared to raise his gaze to Kamal’s.

“Are you alright?” Kamal was taken aback by the tears in his friend’s eyes.

“No.” Alistair admitted. “I’ve done my best to keep him from falling apart, but there he is, going on about his wife and daughters, and I – I failed him.” He gritted his teeth, trying to fight back a sob. “I should’ve been quicker when she made a run for it, I could’ve made it to the door before her, it wouldn’t have been difficult for me, but I . . . well, I thought it’d be best if he reached her first. I thought it’d be terribly romantic for him to do so, but he wasn’t fast enough and she ran and ran and then she got hit by that bloody car and there was no turning back from there.” His voice faltered. “He’s not been the same since that cursed day. He’s not happy, not really. And it’s all my fault. If only I’d been faster, if only I’d been able to keep her in the garden, everything would’ve been different. He would have had his little family, but I failed him.”

“That’s nonsense and you know it.” Kamal argued. “It’s not your fault she left. That was his doing.”

“Be that as it may, I could’ve done more.” Alistair lowered his gaze, not wanting Kamal to see the tears falling. “I could have gone out first, and told her that he wanted to have a chat. Perhaps then, she wouldn’t have run.”

“Perhaps,” said Kamal, “But you’d do best not to dwell on the past. It won’t do you or him any favors. What you ought to concern yourself with is the present.”

“I’ve failed him in the present, as well.” Alistair sat down. “I shouldn’t have let him go off with that bird. She looked too much like her and I knew it wouldn’t do him any good, but he was just so determined to have her, and . . . and now look what’s happened. He’s delusional.”

“Only a bit,” Kamal spoke. “He’s more drunk than anything, really. And I reckon a bit of sleep will set him right. Once morning comes, there’ll be no more talk of this. He’ll have a nasty hangover, a vague memory of shagging that bird, and if he remembers the chat we just had with him, he’ll think it a dream. So don’t fret, Alistair.” He patted him on the back. “Our boy will be alright. I know it.”

But he wasn’t alright. Harry only slept an hour or so before he woke, and when he did, he just sort of lay there, drunkenly contemplating his dreams. He knew he wasn’t married to Paulina and that he didn’t have any daughters with her, the little sleep he had had allowed him to at least recognize that, but despite that, he couldn’t shake off his distress or disappointment at having woken up from such a beautiful dream. He had often dreamt of Thea and Paulina before. Their daughter always had his fiery red hair and her mother’s curls and eyes, but this time the dream had been different from the others because there was to be a new addition. He had never dreamt of them having another daughter, but now that he had, he couldn’t stop thinking of what little Margaret would’ve looked like, whose smile she would’ve gotten, and what her personality would’ve been. Now that he dreamt of her, he couldn’t help but long, and he was angry at himself for having lost the woman whom would’ve given him those daughters. He was angry for not having fought harder for her.

After the accident, he had only made three attempts to win her back. The first had been at the hospital, when he’d gotten on his knees to beg her to reconsider. The second was later that day, when he snuck into Alfred’s house via the back alley and tried to have a moment with her, he only made it into the kitchen before Alfred threw him out, and Paulina didn’t even see him that time, she only heard him crying out her name. Not that it would’ve made a difference for her, she wouldn’t have taken him back regardless. The third and final time that he tried to win her back was when he called her in the middle of the night, begging for her to hear him out, to give him another chance, but she didn’t even say anything to him. The only words he heard from her were, “Hello, this is Paulina,” and then she went silent as he spoke and before he had even finished, she hung up and blocked him.

Those were his three attempts, and they were pitiful.

They were nothing compared to the mariachi serenade he orchestrated during her time at Oxford, and they were certainly nothing compared to when he actually showed up at her flat in Harvard to beg her to take him back. Those two attempts had been romantic, and yes, the second hadn’t had the flair of the first, but it had been personal, it had been genuine, and it had been enough to make things right. And the more he thought about it, the more he understood what needed to be done.

That was why, at nearly five in the morning, he called to Alistair.

“Alistair!” he bellowed as he struggled to sit up.

“Yes, Sir?” answered Alfred, whom slowly got up from his makeshift bed on the floor.

“We need to leave.”

“Pardon?”

“We. Need. To. Leave.” By then, Harry had thrown his legs over the side of the bed. “Go on then. Get up.”

“The flight doesn’t leave for hours.”

“Don’t be daft, Alistair.” Harry stood up slowly, wanting to spare himself any dizziness. “We’re not going to the airport.”

“Then why do you wish to get up, Sir?” he asked, cautiously. “You have to sleep. It’s best you do, what with all the drinking you’ve done.”

“I’ll sleep during the drive over.”

“Drive where?” Alistair didn’t understand what Harry wanted.

“Azusa.” Harry told him. “Now let’s get everything packed up. I’ve no idea how far it is from here, but I reckon since we’re still in California, it shouldn’t be too bad.”

“No,” whispered Alistair, suddenly understand.

“What was that?” Harry cocked his brow.

“I do not think it wise we go there, Sir.” Alistair knew it was out of line, had Kamal or Gethin or Sanjay said such a thing, they would’ve been fired, but Alistair could speak his mind when the time called for it, and it most certainly did at that moment. “You are meant to travel back to England today. Your father has –”

“I don’t care what he’s got planned.” Harry stated. “So cancel the bloody tickets and tell them that I’ll go back when I see fit to.”

“But Sir –”

“We’re going to Azusa.”

“But you’ve no reason to travel there.” Alistair argued.

“We’re going. Now get packing!”

“She’s not even there.” Alistair blurted out. “She’s at university.”

“Not today. Not this weekend. Don’t ya know the Americans have a massive holiday this weekend? It’s Thanksgiving, and I know she’ll be at her parents. Now quit arguing with me and make yourself useful.”
“How can you think to go when you’re still drunk?”

“By the time I get there I’ll be sober.” Harry began walking over to the bathroom. “Go wake Kamal. Inform him of the change in plans.”

“So you truly think it wise to go there?” Alistair followed him. “Her brother hates you, the others undoubtedly dislike you just as much, and she –”

“She despises me,” said Harry, turning to face Alistair. “But I can change that. I know I can.”

“You’ve already tried . . .”

“Well then, I’ll try again.” Harry told him. “Because I can’t go on like this, Alistair. I’ve tried to. Believe me, I have. I’ve done my best to get on with life, but this, what I’m doing, it’s not living. It’s just going through the motions. And I can’t keep at it.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth!” he shouted. “As much as I hate to say it, it is. I’ve not lived since that fucking day in July. I’ve not had a proper laugh since then, I’ve not smiled the way I used to, I’ve not felt, and it’s because she’s not with me anymore. But I’ll change that, I will. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll make her love me again. I’ll woo her like I did before, so that we can start living again, because I know she’s miserable. Have you seen the pictures of her? She’s withered away she has. I swear she’s nearly the size of Kate Moss, but I’ll change that. I’ll make us both happy again. Then we can marry and start a family, and I know we’ll never be able to replace Thea, I don’t want to replace her, but we’ll have other children and we’ll love them.” He hastily wiped away his tears with the back of his hand. “You can leave now. I’ve got to have a shower, can’t bloody well show up at her parents’ like this. So go on, tell Kamal what’s going on and do everything else I told you.”

He took his time in the shower, making sure to vigorously scrub every inch of himself. He didn’t want Araceli lingering on his skin. He needed to wash away where her hands had touched him, where her lips had kissed. He needed to do away with any trace of her, because he was going to try to win back the love of his life, and as bizarre was it might’ve sounded to his mates, he needed to be clean for her, pure even. So he scrubbed and scrubbed until his skin began to feel a bit raw, and then he rinsed himself and dressed in an outfit that Alistair had out for him. Alistair didn’t usually dress him, every once in a while Harry would ask an opinion, and Alistair would oblige, but he never set out clothes for him, but on that morning he felt it his duty to ensure that Harry looked impeccable. As such, he went through Harry’s luggage and pulled out a smart outfit that he knew Paulina would like, he even put some shoes that he thought go well with it, and when Harry came out of the shower, he put the outfit on.

Shortly thereafter, the three men left the hotel and began the long drive to Azusa. Alistair had thought that since it was early there wouldn’t be much traffic to hold them up, but it was Thanksgiving morning and the freeways were already flooded with people driving to visit their extended families. Harry was irritated by the traffic. Didn’t those fuckers know that he was on his way to win back the love of his life? They should’ve fucking held off on driving until it was a decent hour, but no, they’d hit the road earlier and transformed his three hour commute, into a nearly five hour one.

By the time they arrived in Azusa, it was a few minutes short of eleven in the morning. Harry had humored himself by thinking that the moment they arrived, he would walk straight up to the front door and ask to see her, that had been his plan all along, but when they pulled up in front of the house, his heart filled with dread and his courage abandoned him.

“Drive off!” he ordered. “I can’t go in, not yet. Just circle the block, will ya? When we get back, I’ll be ready to go in.”

But he wasn’t. He was still terrified and nervous, but instead of asking Alistair to circle the block again, he told him to park across the street. He was going to wait until Paulina went outside, then he would run up to her and make things right. That way he could avoid speaking to her family until everything was sorted out. So he sat there in the car with Alistair and Kamal, waiting for her to go outside, but the hours passed, and there was no sign of her. He saw her family though. He saw little Isabel and Ronaldo exit their parent’s car, he saw Teresa walking into the house with a diaper bag slung across her shoulders, and he saw Rafael carrying a baby in his arms. At the sight of the baby, Harry’s heart ached. He couldn’t help but wonder what he would’ve looked like carrying Thea into the house. A little while after they went inside the house, he saw Thomas and Adrian arrive, and then slowly but surely, the extended family began to pour in. They always celebrated Thanksgiving there, to be honest, that was where they held the parties for all major holidays, and Harry had forgotten that. He’d forgotten that it wasn’t just going to be her parents there and siblings there, it was going to be her aunts, her uncles, her cousins. They were all going to be there.

“Do you wish to leave, Sir?” asked Alistair, after they’d been sitting in the car for nearly four hours.

“No,” replied Harry. “We didn’t come all this way for me to leave without seeing her. I’m only working up the courage, is all.” He nervously fiddled with the fabric of his trousers. “Her entire family’s there. I didn’t think they would be. I mean, I knew her brothers and their family’s would, but not her aunts and the rest of them. But there they are, inside the house. And I’m terrified. Bloody hell, I’m terrified.”

“You don’t have to go in there.”

“I didn’t want to.” He told them. “I thought she might come out at some point and that I’d be able to just be with her before her family got involved, but I’m starting to think she’s never coming out.” He took in a deep breath. “Whether I like it or not, I’m gonna have to knock on that door and hope she’ll be the one to answer it.”

“Would you like us to go with you, Sir?” Alistair asked him.

“No. I-I’ve got to do it on my own.” He glanced across the street, over at the house. There were no children in the front yard, no one was walking up the pathway. It was the perfect time to make a move because he wouldn’t run into one on the way to the door. “Do ya have your flask on you?” he asked Alistair.

“Yes.”

“Then let me have at it.”

“But you breath will –”

“I have mints.” He told him. “Now please give it to me.” He waited for Alistair to produce the flask, and when he did, he drank just enough to give him a bit of courage. “Thank you,” he said as he handed it over. “Well then, I reckon it’s time I go. There’s no point in waiting about all day. I’ve got to do this. I’ve got to –”

“Good luck, Sir.” Kamal told him.

“You’ll be brilliant.” Alistair added.

Harry smiled gratefully and after popping a mint in his mouth, he finally exited the vehicle. The walk to the front door was the longest walk of his life. His hands trembled as he made his way towards it, his heart pounded violently within his chest. The whiskey had served to give him a bit of courage, but it hadn’t been enough. He should’ve had a proper glass before he left, but it was too late to turn back, he was already on the walkway, soon enough he’d be at the door. He had to control himself, he had to take deep breaths, he had to keep his wits about him so that when the time came, he could talk to her.

“Please God,” he whispered to himself as he began to walk up the steps that would lead him to the front door, “I know I’ve not been my best this last year, but I promise if you help me, I’ll start another charity.”

When he reached the front door, he momentarily hesitated. He hadn’t seen her since the accident, and from the pictures that he’d seen of her campaigning with Professor Warren, he knew she’d changed a lot. She’d lost a drastic amount of weight, she’d cut off all her hair, she looked like a completely different person, and he was afraid that she might act like a different person as well. He was so absorbed with his own thoughts that he failed to notice Luis pulling into the driveway.

“The fuck is he doing here?” Luis cursed when he saw Harry standing in front of the door. “That son of a bitch has some nerve showing his face around –”

“Who are you talking –” Daniella stopped short when she saw the prince. “That can’t be him.”

“It is,” said Luis as he turned off the car. “That’s the fucking bastard that broke my sister’s heart.”

“What’s he doing here, though?” she asked. “What could he possibly want?”

“To break her heart again.” He unbuckled his seatbelt as he spoke. “He wants to put her through hell again, but that fucker has another thing coming.”

“Don’t do something you’ll regret, Luis.” She placed her hand on his forearm. “Think of what your family would say.”

“What would you say?” he asked her. “Would you be mad if I called him out? Because I didn’t get a chance to do it in England. I didn’t get a chance to make him pay for everything he did to my little sister. His fucking arm was in a sling, and you know me, I won’t fight if it’s not fair.”

“I . . .” she hesitated before saying, “I wouldn’t be mad. Just try not to go overboard. Promise me that.”

“I promise,” he told her.

He then stepped out of the car and walked up the house, he stopped at the foot of the stairs.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked Harry, his tone sharp.

Slowly, Harry turned around. Out of everyone in her family, he was dreading seeing Luis the most.

“I asked you a question.” Luis glared. “What are you doing here?”

“I-I’ve come to see your sister.”

“Did she invite you?” he asked, because he couldn’t hit someone who’d been personally invited to the house.

“No, but I was hoping I might –”

“I don’t give a fuck about what you were hoping to do.” Luis interjected. “What you need to do is fuck off. Alright? Just get in your car and get as far away from here as possible. Otherwise, we’re gonna have a problem.”

“Look mate, I’ve not come here to fight.”

“Then you should’ve thought things through better, because the last time I saw you, I told you that if you ever showed your face around here that I was gonna fuck you up. Do you remember that? Why am I even asking? Of course you do. I told your ass that after you locked my mom out of the hospital room. I fucking warned you, which is a lot more than you deserved.” He watched as Harry moved away from the door and stopped at the top of the stairs. “Are you leaving?”

“Not until I see your sister.”

“If that’s how it’s gonna be, then get your ass down here.” He took off his jacket and laid it atop a nearby bush. “Come on then. Let’s go!”

“I won’t fight you.” Harry cursed himself for not having knocked right away. “I didn’t come here for that.”

“You came to break my sister’s heart again.” Luis told him. “But you’re a fool if you think I’m just gonna stand by and watch you hurt her.”

“I love your sister.”

“Really?” Luis scoffed. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“I’ve not come to convince you of my affections for her. I’ve come to speak with her.”

“You’re not getting anywhere near her.”

“That’s for her to decide.”

“You’re right. And you know what? She’s decided that she never wants to see you again, that you disgust her and that you were the biggest mistake she ever made.”

“That’s not true!” cried Harry and he unknowingly began walking down the stairs. “She loves me! I know it!”

“Once upon a time, she did. Not anymore though.”

“She loves me,” argued Harry. He was now standing directly in front of Luis. “So quit being such a bloody git! Because this doesn’t involve you.”

“Doesn’t involve me?” repeated Luis. His right brow twitching. “You’re a fucking asshole if you think this doesn’t involve me! I lost my niece, because of you!”

“Well I lost my daughter!”

That was it, Luis lost it. He felt a surge of hatred course through him and without thinking, he punched Harry right on the nose, instantly breaking it.

“Don’t you ever fucking refer to Thea as your daughter,” Luis pinned Harry against the wall. “You lost the right to do that when you turned your back on her and her mother. So don’t you ever call her that again.”

“She was my daughter.” Harry didn’t care if he was bleeding. He wasn’t going to back down. “And yes, I do recognize that I was a massive prat when I first found out and I reacted badly, but I came around in the end. I wanted to raise her and marry your –”

“Shut the fuck up!” Luis snapped, shaking him. “You need to shut the fuck up and leave, because if you stay another moment, I swear that I’m gonna –”

“Let him go!” ordered Rafael.

“Go back inside the house, Rafa!” Luis shouted back. “This doesn’t involve you.”

“Of course it does, menso (idiot)!” Rafael made his way down the stairs. “And soon enough it’s gonna involve the police, because I’m sure the neighbors heard you two idiot arguing out here. We fucking heard you from the backyard!”

“I told him to leave, but he didn’t listen. And now he’s getting what’s coming to him.”

“And then your ass is going to end up in jail for assault. Do you want that to happen? Do you want to go to jail because you punched him?”

“Of course not, but I want to defend my sister’s honor.”

“Our sister doesn’t want us doing this. She fucking told us that. So let him go!”

“Fuck off, Rafa!”

“Pinche menso (fucking idiot)! You’re not thinking about our sister, you’re thinking about your own damn pride, but I’m not going to let you ruin Thanksgiving for the family.” Rafael then reached out and grabbed his brother’s ear. He pulled it hard, earning a pained hiss, and sure enough, Luis relinquished his hold on Harry. “Get your butt inside!” he ordered. “Go on. Get going!”

“You’re a dick, Rafa!” Luis grumbled as he rubbed his ear.

“What part of get inside didn’t you understand? Go!”

“But what’s going to happen to him?” Luis spat. “You can’t let him go inside.”

“Quit talking and go inside! I’m going to take care of this.” He waited until Luis went inside to talk to Harry. “Did he break your nose?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“That fucking idiot.” Rafael reached into his pocket and pulled out his handkerchief. “There you go, clean yourself up a little. Now tell me, what are you doing here?”

“I just want to talk to your sister,” replied Harry as he wiped off some of the blood.

“Well you just got punched for no reason, because she’s not here.”

“What? That can’t be true! It’s Thanksgiving, she’s meant to be here.”

“She couldn’t make it this year.” Rafael informed him. “Now that she’s working on the Professor’s campaign that takes up most of her time. She was able to come out last week though, stayed a couple days, but this week, they have several events scheduled for today so she had to stay over there.”

“You’re not lying, are you?”

“If you don’t believe me, just google her. I’m sure some pictures should’ve already been uploaded.”

“Then I’ll go to Harvard.”

“So that you can get told off again?” Rafael asked. “Because that’s what’s gonna happen. You’re going to show up over there and she’s gonna tell you to fuck off. So just give her up. Spare yourself the heartache and the insults.”

“I can’t,” whispered Harry. “I love her too much, Rafael. And you know it. Don’t you? You’ve always known it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Rafael said, dismissively. “My sister’s stubborn, way more stubborn than myself or my brothers, and she has that damn Balcázar pride that makes us all so infuriating. So believe me when I say that you’re wasting your time, because it doesn’t matter if you love her. What matters is –”

“But it does matter!” argued Harry. “It’s the only thing that matters. I love your sister, and I know I made an ass of myself, but I’ve this endless aching need inside me, right in the bloody heart and she’s the only one that can make it right. So I’m going to take my chances. I’m go to Harvard to see what can be done.”