When He Holds Your Hand

The evening was ruined. Completely. I cried quietly against the back of my hand, feeling fat and horrible until Will called over our waiter and asked for the bill. Normally I would never have made a scene but I was extra emotional from travelling and so, I didn’t care.

My husband was mortified, glaring at me while he paid then hissing at me, “I’m going to the bathroom then we are leaving.”

I watched him walk towards the gents, wiping my tears which were quickly replaced by new ones. Harry’s eyes met mine; he frowned and scraped his chair back loudly which caused his friends to shout and holler at him. There was nothing I wanted more than to feel Harry hold me and tell me how much he wanted me but it couldn’t happen here, it couldn’t happen at all. I shook my head at him curtly and mouthed no, so he stood where he was unsure what to do next.

Slowly, he sat back down but he wouldn’t look away, green eyes fixed on me as if willing me to let him come over.

“Come on, let’s go.” Will was at my side, taking hold of my elbow so I’d stand up. “I hope you know I am so embarrassed.”

Tears welled in my eyes once more, but I refused to let them fall. I grabbed my bag, looked at Harry once more over my shoulder and left with a furious Will.

Notes