III.
Three Years.
She would meet him, occasionally, at a party or an afternoon tea. They would smile hesitantly at each other. It was awkward, always, deliberately so. They had nothing to talk about.
They could talk about nothing.
"How is Susan?"
"She's well, thanks. And Dean?"
"Never better. He had a slight flu around July –"
"Ah, yes, there was a cold going around then –"
"Yes, and those Summer colds can be so nasty. I hope you and Susan didn't catch it?"
"No, we were very lucky."
They would lapse into silence again. He would start to speak, breathe in, and hesitate. She'd smile sadly, the wedding band on her finger feeling like a shackle, the wedding band on his flashing like a warning signal.
She would ask, quietly, the only polite question that she truly wanted to know. "How have you been?"
He'd start to mouth a platitude, to fob the question off with a smile and a shrug, then pause, again. He'd stop. Think. "I'm okay. I sleep better these days."
She'd smile, happy but so sad. "That's good."
"You?"
Her eyes would darken and she'd look away. It would take her much longer to reply. "Sometimes I dream. And sometimes I...I forget everything that's happened since." Sometimes she forgot that she was married to Dean.
She loved Dean, in a way. He was security, comfort. He'd be the one holding with her in the night, the one she could hear snoring when she lay awake.
Loving Harry was like having a hole in her heart. Loving Harry was like wanting something so badly she could die for it. Loving Harry was loving someone else's husband; wrong.
She couldn't help it, and so she'd avoid him.
When they saw each other, they'd keep it awkward. He would reach out to touch her; take her elbow, shake her hand, and she'd move away. She knew how much she longed for the touch.
"Ginny," Harry said quietly. "I miss you."
When she looked at him, there was pain in her eyes. She felt betrayed by his admission. They had decided, mutually, that they couldn't talk about this.
But she could never, never ever not reply. "I miss you too.
"But there are other factors. There are other people we will hurt if we get involved again." Tears were in her eyes. "It won't work, Harry."
He nodded. "Can I hug you?"
Her tears spilled over and she nodded. He grabbed her like a drowning man clasping a life raft. His arms wrapped around her. When she hugged him, it was like coming home. The tears were dripping down her face, soaking his shirt, but she didn't care. She longed so badly to take back time, to reverse the one decision that had led them upon their separate paths.
But nothing could do that.
"I love you," he whispered.
"I love you too." She sobbed.
"Always."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Everything is my fault."
He tipped her head up so that she could see his sad smile. "I love you, Ginny. No matter what happens, I love you."
He stepped back, kissed her cheek. "Tell Dean that I said hi." He looked back at her. "I shouldn't come to the next party." Then he smiled wryly. "But I always do."
She understood why. Every time she saw him, it was bittersweet. It hurt unbearably, but every time she could never help herself.
They had lives now that didn't include each other. Somehow, they had drifted onto separate paths. And neither of them knew why, knew how the mistake had been made.
But it had been. Each had lives with a family and friends. Both were married, had made a life and memories with other people.
It didn't make it any easier.
When they saw each other, it was like the years slid away – or like the years in between had been spent with each other.
Every time, it felt like they should be together.
It felt like they were truly soul mates and somehow, they'd stuffed up royally.
They knew they shouldn't see each other.
They would never stop.
Just as they would never stop loving each other.
