AN: Somehow I forgot it was Wednesday and I've got a Zoom meeting in 6 minutes. Oops! Hope you enjoy and thanks to all who have left such kind reviews.

Chapter 8

Elizabeth sat at her table in the library, her head bent in concentration. She tried and tried again to make her brain comprehend what she was reading, but her pounding headache and queasy stomach weren't helping at all. She sat back and rubbed her eyes, trying to get the imprint of blurry words out of her line of sight.

She sighed and glanced at her watch. It was 12:30 and she'd been at the library for over an hour. Elizabeth shook her head, wondering how she could be so back and forth on Henry, She was anxiously hoping that he would show up soon. Last night had been a turning point, and while she didn't think she was on board with starting a relationship with him right away, she was definitely looking forward to his friendship and seeing where that might take them. But she realized, at this time the day before, she had been plotting her outfit for the party, one that would turn his head, so that she could blow him off and hurt his feelings like he'd hurt hers.

Her head dropped. That was not who she was, or at least it wasn't who she was raised to be. Her parents always encouraged both of their children to be kind, to look out for the underdog, and treat people the way you would want to be treated. A shaky breath fell from her lips. She had been so hung up in making Henry pay for how he'd hurt her, she failed to see what kind of person she'd become.

She checked her watch. It was getting close to one. Maybe Henry was giving her a taste of her own medicine. Maybe he was waiting for her to let her guard down. Maybe he was going to stand her up. All of the maybes consumed her and Elizabeth shook her head violently and ran her fingers through her ponytail, further pulling it loose. The tension within her wound tighter and tighter until she felt like she was going to snap.

That morning, Henry rolled over and groaned. He felt like he'd been hit by a truck. His jaw ached and his shoulders and ribs were stiff and sore. Then there was the fact that he could barely move his fingers. Even though he was achy and was nursing a mild hangover, he smiled widely. He had a library date with Elizabeth. She had called a truce. For the first time in years, there was a feeling of hope that filled him.

Pulling himself from bed, he staggered to the shower. Henry took a long, hot shower, loosening his muscles. Getting out, he studied himself after wiping the condensation off the mirror. His jaw was bruised, but he didn't think it was terribly noticeable, at least not yet.

After pulling on a pair or jeans and a t-shirt, he made a sandwich and packed a few books in his backpack. He smiled again. Elizabeth had agreed to meet him. He released a slow breath. He was so thankful he was in the right place at the right time. He shuddered to think what might have happened if he hadn't been there to protect her. A warmth bloomed throughout his body. He always wanted to protect Elizabeth.

Making his way into the library, he headed directly to the third floor. Rounding the corner, his smile faded when he saw Elizabeth. Her expression left him bewildered. She looked pained. The second she saw him, tears fell and she covered her mouth in an attempt to hold back a sob.

Henry was immediately by her side. He tugged her out of the chair and wrapped her in a hug. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry," she choked out, burying her face in his neck.

He held her for a minute longer before pushing her back so he could see her. "I don't understand. Sorry for what?"

She tried to calm down, breathing slowly, working through the shudders of breath. Finally, she pulled a tissue from her backpack and dried her eyes. "I'm a terrible person. Last night. I wanted to hurt you, and you still saved me. It's just one more reason I don't deserve to be loved."

Henry shook his head. He sat and swept his hand toward her chair. She joined him and they sat knee to knee. Henry placed his hands, palms up on her thighs. Elizabeth studied him for a moment before she placed her hands in his. He spoke softly. "We've both done some hurtful things to each other. How about we forget that and start over? A new chance for both of us." He looked at her, silently pleading for her to agree.

"I guess, but I don't understand. You said you left, but why did you come back?" she asked.

"I was mad and hurt, but the farther I got from the party, I got to thinking about Troy and the things I'd heard about him. And…" Herry trailed off for a moment.

"And what?"

"And even if you hated me, I couldn't let him hurt you like that. I-I just couldn't. I still love you."

The warmth started at her the ends of her body and rolled in waves from her head and feet meeting in her core, crashing together in an undeniable pulsing. She leaned in closer, reaching up and resting her fingers on the nape of Henry's neck, pulling him closer. Their lips were so close to touching. She could feel his breath dampening her lower lip, and then he raised his hand and grasped her wrist, causing her to suck in a sharp breath and pull back.

Henry's gaze was unflinching as he held her eyes, easing up the sleeve of her sweatshirt. Only when her skin was exposed, did he break eye contact and look at her wrist. "Is that from?" he started.

Elizabeth quickly pulled her arm away and tugged the sleeve back down, hiding the purplish blue bruises on her wrist and forearm. Henry carefully took her other arm and pushed the sleeve up. The bruising was similar. When he looked at her, Elizabeth could see the pain. "Is it? From last night?"

She nodded just enough. Henry blew out a frustrated breath. "Damn that son of a bitch. I almost felt bad for hitting him. Now I wish I hadn't stopped."

"Henry, you did stop him. It could've been so much worse," shtw murmured.

"But it shouldn't have ever happened," he said and Elizabeth nodded, conceding the point.

"Of course, if I'd been thinking clearly, I wouldn't have even been in that position."

"It shouldn't matter what position you were in-no man should ever-" Henry raked his hand through his hair. "How about we stop talking about him? How about we think about us?" Henry looked her in the eye, and that feeling he'd had back in her high school dorm room flooded his memory. Those eyes. Except now, there was something else he saw that hadn't been present before-desire. A knot immediately formed in his stomach and he shoved the chair back and stood, moving away.

A startled Elizabeth also stood, looking both stricken and panicked. "What did I do?"

"It's not you. It's-it's-I don't even know how to describe it." He moved toward the window and leaned against the sill, his arms folded across his chest. She followed, but stopped a pace away. He continued. "This feeling I have right now. It's just like it was back then, but I don't want to make the same mistakes." He reached out and caught her fingers, staring at where they were joined.

"I spent a lot of time trying to forget you, and most of the time that manifested itself physically." He took a deep breath. "We've had such a rocky start, and I have such deep feelings for you. I just don't want to mess it up. I want us to have more than a surface infatuation. I don't just want to fuck you. I want this to be real."

Elizabeth listened to Henry's words and thought about her experiences. In the time since her parents died, she had longed for deep connection to someone, to feel like she belonged. Looking up, she saw how he looked at her. She felt like she could see into his soul and her breath was taken away. He loved her. She swallowed the lump in her throat. "You're right. We'll take our time," she whispered, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand carefully. "That's what we'll do."

November 4, 1986

The following Tuesday, Henry and Elizabeth were lounging in chairs opposite each other in the library. Elizabeth's history reading assignment was beyond boring and it was to the point that even taking notes wasn't helping. She needed a break. Sitting up straight, she stretched and groaned as her body resisted the change in position.

"You alright?" Henry asked, a small smile sneaking up on the corners of his mouth. As she stretched her arms over her head, her shirt rose up, showing her midriff. Henry couldn't help but think of how smooth her skin would feel under his touch. Blinking that thought away, he grinned when she dropped her arms, slumping back into the chair.

"Just tired of reading about Prussia. I know I should care, but I don't. This text is so dry." She reached forward, dumping it on the table. Her eyes met his and he chuckled.

"Favorite season?" he asked. This game had started as a get to know you, but quickly morphed into something they did when they were tired of studying. The afternoon before had seen one hour of studying and three hours of "getting to know each other."

"There are things I love about every season, but I like fall the best." She spoke in a way that made Henry look at her with interest, prodding her to continue. "The leaves are beautiful," she replied. When he raised his eyebrow at her, she offered, "And I like apple cider? How about you?"

He cocked his head slightly to the side, "We'll talk about it more some other time. As for me, I like spring. Everything is fresh and new and green. It refreshes the soul after the long bleak winter.."

"That's a nice way to look at it. I don't like spring. It just reminds me of bad times. So, my turn. What's your favorite Christmas memory?" she asked.

He smiled, but it was laced with sadness. "My favorite, not because it was the best, but because it's the freshest, was the last Christmas before Mom died. I got back from boarding school before noon, and Dad was at work and the other kids were still at their school, so it was just Mom and I. She was baking sugar cookies. Even though I'm not a great baker, I helped her roll the cookies out and we iced all the different cookies all afternoon. With four kids, we seldom got alone time with Mom, and that was actually the last time it was just the two of us. We talked and laughed. It wasn't about anything important, but it was special." Henry looked away,his emotions threatening to get away from him.

Elizabeth reached out and laced her fingers in his. "I'm glad you had that time with her, and that you recognized how special it was when you were in the moment." Squeezing his hand, she continued, "I wish I had taken the time I had with my parents more seriously. I guess I thought I'd have forever."

Sitting in silence for a bit, Elizabeth glanced down at her watch. "Crap! Henry, I forgot. It's Election Day. I need to vote."

"Oh yeah, the day has gotten away from me. I do too. Want to go together?"

"That's a date for the books. Voting. We aren't nerds or anything," she giggled.

Henry shoved his books in his pack and waited for Elizabeth to do the same. Tugging their heavy coats on, they headed out of the library, ready to walk several blocks to the nearest polling station.

"So what about you?" Henry asked. Elizabeth scrunched her nose. "Your favorite Christmas memory?" he prompted

"Oh. Um, probably the year I got Brandy." Henry watched her curiously. "I was ten years old and I'd asked for a horse for four years and I actually never thought I'd get one. It became something that I asked for every year, almost as a joke. So Will and I came downstairs Christmas morning and there were hardly any presents, and I realize now that it was greedy, but at the time we were kind of confused and Will was downright mad. We opened our couple of gifts and it was new sweaters and socks or something like that and then Dad told us that he had one more gift but we would have to share. Will was mad because he hated sharing anything with me, but Dad just got up and put on his coat, not saying a word and walked out of the house. We waited and nothing happened. Finally Mom said, 'Are you two going to go and find him?' We quickly put our coats and boots on and made our way out to the barn just as he was walking Brandy out into the yard." Henry watched as her eyes lit up at the memory. "We were so excited. That day we took a long ride as a family and Will and I even took turns riding Brandy and we didn't fight or anything. I'm sure my parents thought that was a Christmas miracle."

Elizabeth's smile faded. "I loved that horse so much."

"Do you still have her?" Henry asked.

"No. She's probably died of old age by now, but Joan sold all of the horses after Will and I went to boarding school." She hung her head. "That was a big pill to swallow when I went home that first summer, but Joan was right. It was for the best. We weren't around to care for them and it's expensive to have someone else board them."

Henry put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a side hug. "I promise, one day you'll have horses again. I'll make sure of it." Reaching up she squeezed his hand, and they walked up the steps of the polling station.

December 1986

It was the last day of finals and Elizabeth stood outside of Henry's apartment, knocking on the door. She sighed. Finally giving up, she leaned against the wall, sliding down it until her knees were against her chest. Resting her head there, she tried to figure out exactly what had happened.

They had been walking back from the student Union, playing their usual question and answer game. Henry had asked her about extended family and she told him about her cousins who were her best friends in school. That prompted her next question, which seemed innocuous enough.

"Who was your best friend growing up?" she asked. The look on Henry's face instantly turned Elizabeth's stomach. He looked stricken. "What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's nothing." But it was something, because he immediately pulled his hand away from hers and shoved it in his pocket. He picked up the pace, causing Elizabeth to have to nearly chase after him.

"Henry, stop," she called, but he didn't. He couldn't. He headed straight up the steps and into the apartment. As he unlocked the door and turned the knob, he heard Elizabeth coming up the steps behind him. Henry slid into his apartment, shutting and locking the door behind him.

She knocked on the door for a solid five minutes. Henry could hear it even though he was already in the bedroom, sobs erupting uncontrollably.

His best friend was Tommy Bennett. They had been friends since kindergarten and Henry was there the day Tommy fell through the ice, while skating, and died. He grieved his friend's death and spent hours talking and praying with his mother, and eventually, things got better.

Then when Pamela died, all of the grief resurfaced, but there had been no one to help him through it and Henry tucked that hurt away and had not thought about Tommy since those first few months after his mother's passing. Elizabeth's question had caught him off guard and it felt like ripping the bandage from a wound that was nowhere near healed. He felt like his soul was gaping open.

The knocking stopped and Henry buried his head in his pillow. He was unsure why he reacted the way he did, and worse yet, how Elizabeth would perceive his behavior. She sometimes seemed to walk on eggshells around him anyway, fearful that she would do something to make him go away. He'd tried to tell her that it wouldn't happen again, but now here he was, running away and shutting her out.

His shame and guilt overshadowed his embarrassment of being so emotional about Tommy and he finally pulled himself out of bed, headed to find Elizabeth. To his shock, he didn't need to go far, tripping over her as he walked out of his door.

"What are you doing?" he asked, crouching down next to her.

"I'm not letting you run away," she murmured. He quickly pulled her to a stand and embraced her.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

"I just don't understand," she mumbled, her face pressed against the top of his head.

Henry released her and held the door open so she could enter and gestured toward the couch. Shedding her coat and backpack, she sat down. He brought them a couple sodas and sat down, turning so he could see her.

Turning to face Henry, Elizabeth tucked the can between the couch cushions and reached out, placing her hand on his leg. "Are you okay?"

Henry sighed, "I shouldn't have reacted that way. I just-I wasn't expecting-it caught me off guard." Resting his hand on top of Elizabeth's, he squeezed it. "Thank you for not leaving."

"I don't want to be anywhere else."

Taking a deep breath, Henry stared at their hands. "Tommy Bennett was my best friend. He died when I was 12, and I was there. I watched my best friend die." Elizabeth immediately shifted herself, pushing up on her knees to wrap Henry in a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered in his ear. In her simple act of kindness, Henry broke down, telling her all about the day several of the boys went ice skating and Tommy fell through the ice-how no one knew where to get help and no one could get close enough to help him out of the water and then how they all watched him slip beneath the surface. Elizabeth wiped the tears from Henry's face as he shared the aftermath as those that blamed the boys argued with those that wanted to show compassion and offer forgiveness. He spoke of how his mother prayed with him when he was able and over him when he couldn't find the words to speak to God.

"That's the reason I went to boarding school. Just the thought of having to be with all of those people, day in and day out who knew what I had done-or what I didn't do." Henry paused to look at Elizabeth. "I just needed to get away."

Elizabeth curled up next to Henry, with her head on his shoulder. "And I desperately wanted to connect with those left behind after my parents died, and it seemed like they didn't want me. I thought they blamed me." She looked up at Henry. "That's why I clung to you. You accepted me and offered me something-no, someone-I could connect with. But then…" she trailed off, not wanting to rehash it yet again.

"I wish I'd been better equipped to handle that situation. I'm sorry I hurt you, so very sorry. I just didn't know how to deal with my feelings for you."

"You did hurt me, but you were right. I wasn't ready. If it had happened, I would've always been beholden to you for saving me. At some point, I probably would've ended up resenting you."

"Which is so much worse than outright hating me," Henry mumbled.

"Well, at least that only lasted a few years." She tipped her head back and shot him a wide grin, then she sobered.

"People used to tell me that everything happens for a reason and I wanted to punch them, but now, looking at what's happened with us, maybe I'm warming up to the idea." Elizabeth snuggled back into Henry's side.

"How so?" he asked.

She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, focusing on that instead of sanitizing the words she was about to say. "Well, you came to Virginia Prep because of Tommy and I ended up there because my parents died. If those things hadn't happened, our paths probably would never have crossed. Maybe that's the good that will come of it."

"Fate?" he offered.

"Perhaps."