AN: Sometimes you just have a rough day and need cheering up. I hope tomorrow is a better day teaismyqueen.
The door of the house slammed shut, the sound reverberating in Elizabeth Adams's ears as she tromped down the porch steps. Each step jarred her body and fury flowed through her veins. She didn't know if she'd ever been so angry. Blinding rage propelled her forward. At one point, she wanted to run, but continued instead to walk quickly. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her run away.
The "him" was Henry McCord. He had been Elizabeth's boyfriend for close to six months. "Egotistical asshole," she muttered, rounding the corner, out of view of the pressed on, but with each step, the anger ebbed away and it was replaced with sorrow. She came to a stop in front of the neighborhood park about a mile from Henry's place. It was deserted, so she crossed the wide expanse of grass and sat on one of the low swings.
Elizabeth leaned forward, wrapping her arms around her shins and resting her forehead on her knee. "What have I done?" she asked aloud, and tears sprang to her eyes. She wasn't even sure why she was crying. Was it because she hadn't slept for the past two nights and she was unbelievably exhausted? Or because she completely lost her shit with Henry and in this moment couldn't even say what he did that caused her to get so angry? Maybe it was because she knew she'd told him that she hated him and never wanted to see him again, and she'd seen the hurt it his eyes. What if he really broke up with her? If she was in his shoes, she would.
Then there was the anniversary of her parents' death. She never spoke of it. She just tried her best to ignore the day and hope that it passed without her notice, but it never did. The undercurrent of hurt and loneliness was always present, even more so on the day that they died. It was just usually well hidden behind the wall she carefully crafted to keep her emotions at bay. When she met Henry, he began chipping away at that wall. His kind eyes, his open heart and the way he always met her where she was, all worked to whittle it away, weakening her resolve, letting her true self peek through.
She shuddered. Now, in a vulnerable moment, the force of her emotions came rushing out, and Henry was caught in the wave. He'd most certainly break up with her, if he ever even spoke to her again. She scuffed at the dirt with the toe of her shoe, gently pushing herself forward and backward in the swing . All of the anger had dissipated and she was left emptiness and regret. Even though Henry wouldn't want to continue their relationship, she at least owed it to him to apologize. He'd been good to her. He deserved that. Her heart broke at the thought. She'd hoped Henry was her forever, but she ruined it.
She gripped the chains and pulled to a stand, her knees stiff from being bent so long. Finally, she took a step and started walking back to Henry's. Elizabeth walked much slower this time, thinking about all of the good times she'd had with Henry and how being so thoughtless with her words had devastating consequences. When she finally rounded the corner, and Henry's house came into view, she saw him sitting on the front porch steps, looking in the opposite direction.
Elizabeth meandered up the sidewalk until she stood about six feet away. "Hey," she mumbled.
Henry quickly stood, and stepped off the bottom step. "Hey, are you okay?"
"Yeah. No." She shrugged. "I'm not really sure, but I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?" Henry asked. Elizabeth looked at him and became flustered when he seemed generally confused as to what she would be apologizing for.
She huffed out a breath. If he was going to make her spell it out for him, so be it. "For yelling at you, and calling you names and saying that I hate you and never wanted to see you again." Elizabeth stared at the ground and chewed her bottom lip, embarrassed at her behavior.
Henry took the couple of steps to stand in front of her. He took Elizabeth's hands in his own. "It's okay. I wasn't worried. I knew you'd be back."
She looked up, meeting his gaze and he jerked his head to the left. "You didn't take your car. You'd have to come get it sometime."
Her mouth fell open and then she gave him a small smile. "I'm sorry I blew up. It was dumb and I didn't mean it."
"I know. It's fine. Today has to be a hard day for you." Elizabeth studied Henry trying to figure out what he knew and how he knew it. "Today is the day they died, right?"
"How did you?" Elizabeth stopped short as Henry tugged her close, pulling her into a warm embrace.
"Your doodles," he said simply. When Elizabeth looked at him, seeming to not understand, he continued. "You doodle in your planner." He took her hand and led her back to the step to sit with him. "First, this day your planner had teardrops in the square, then later you added hearts, but broke them, and yesterday you colored the whole square in black. You don't share much, but I pick up clues where I can."
Henry slipped his arm around Elizabeth's back and pulled her close, resting his cheek against the side of her head. "That's why I made you come over today. I didn't expect that you'd let me in. I just didn't want you to be alone."
Tears filled Elizabeth's eyes and she brushed them away with her sleeve. "You were so sweet and then I yelled at you."
"I don't mind. If that's what you needed to do. Remember, I grew up in the Patrick McCord household. I can handle getting yelled at every once in a while." Henry pressed a kiss to Elizabeth's temple.
"You aren't going to break up with me?" Elizabeth turned to face him, worry clouding her features.
Henry brushed her cheek with his thumb and gave her a soft smile. "My plan was to make you dinner, cuddle on the couch, maybe watch a movie, definitely feed you ice cream and help you get through this day however I can." Leaning in, the late afternoon stubble on his jawline brushed against her as he placed a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth. "I have no plans of breaking up with you. I promise."
"Thank you," she whispered, overcome with emotion. "Thank you for being here for me."
Taking her by the hand, Henry led Elizabeth into the house. He made her fettuccine and instead of watching a movie, Henry tucked her into his side and they listened to classical music. Over an hour passed before she spoke. Vivaldi's Four Seasons filled the room and he heard the catch in her breath.
"My father played the violin," she said. "When I was young, I used to sit at his feet and listen for hours. Mom would come to shuttle me off to bed and before I'd leave the room, I'd make him promise that he wouldn't quit playing until I fell asleep. I would lay awake as long as I could, but I never could make it to the end. The Autumn concerto is my favorite. How about you?"
"I like Spring, but only because that's probably the most familiar." Henry shifted a little to rest his cheek on her head and squeezed her hand. "Thank you for sharing some of them with me."
"I wish it weren't so hard. I'm sor-" Elizabeth apologized.
"It's okay. I have the rest of our lives to learn about your parents. Someday." She felt him smile against the shell of her ear and it made her feel warm inside.
Elizabeth looked up at Henry. She saw the softness in his eyes. She wanted nothing more than to read it as love. Henry was a man she could love. Henry was a man she did love, not exactly in the forever way yet, but she could see herself getting there. "The rest of our lives, huh?"
"I hope so," he murmured, letting his forehead rest against hers.
"Me too," she hummed, letting the tips of their noses brush together. "Until then, I'll keep doodling." Her lips met his in a soft kiss and Henry hoped she never stopped.