Chapter Twenty

Ethan

It was too soon to be releasing him. He wasn't strong enough. He still looked so frail and weak that I was sure he would snap if someone hugged him too hard.

I often found myself glaring at Hugh whenever he came bounding into the room, day after day, to greet Harry with a tight, rough squeeze. He even kissed him on the forehead once, which earned him a hard punch in the arm from Harry.

I caught the tiny smile Harry gave after punching him, though. He didn't fool me.

It was actually quite amazing at how their relationship was blossoming. From Harry refusing to even call him by his first name due to his 'hatred' of Hugh to now. Harry even referred to Hugh as his 'brother' yesterday, only to redden and change the topic immediately.

"Are you sure he's okay to be discharged?" I asked Dr Rushman now for the thousandth time. It had been five short days since Harry woke up and Harvey and Jennifer had come in, all guns blazing, ready for action. Harry was practically jumping from the bed once Harvey announced that the time for fighting was near.

To my relief, they all burst out laughing when Harry suggested he start training that night to build up his strength again. He had looked so down when they told him it was up to Dr Rushman – Harry hated doctors. Rushman had advised to rest for at least a week before Harry start any form of training or work. Therefore, Harry decided that in his world, five days was considered a week and that he didn't care what Rushman had to say – he was getting out of that hospital wing.

I had wheeled him around the place once or twice, but whenever it looked like he was about to fall asleep – which was often due to his pain meds – I would wheel him straight back, going against his weak and drowsy arguing of 'I'm fine.. I'm not even tired...'.

"I have checked and rechecked him, Ethan. He's fit to go. I advised a week as a precaution. Two more days in here would probably make him fresher – yes. But there's no reason he has to stay here for medical purposes. And besides, I'm genuinely afraid his death glares are going to kill me one of these days!" Rushman laughed.

I liked him, but I still couldn't stop the worry that this was too soon. I trusted nobody but Harry so I eyed Rushman cautiously before nodding.

I had gone through hell and back during the eight days he was out. Every time I thought I saw his eyelids flutter, it would be nothing. Every time a machine started beeping, I would jump from my chair and run for the nearest nurse. Every time I slept, which was a rarity, I would have nightmares of evil people, taking him away. Of waking up in a church, standing on a podium, giving my speech at his funeral.

It was horrible. I often woke up and ran straight to the bathroom to vomit up the little food I had consumed that day.

Jennifer, Harvey and Hugh were my rocks. Actually, scratch that. Jennifer and Harvey were my rocks. Hugh was an utter wreck. He cried all the time – at breakfast, at meetings we had to discuss our options - everywhere, all the time. Whenever he visited Harry was the worst. He would just sob and stare at him.

I knew that Harry would have told him to 'man up' if he was awake. When I said that to Hugh, to try and calm him, he just cried harder wheezing that he was 'going to miss him so much'.

Statements like that never boded well with me. It was when Hugh started getting morbid I would kick him out of the hospital room.

I left Rushman's office and walked the short distance to Harry's room. The hospital wing of the mansion was quite extensive. There were six hospital rooms with three on-call nurses and Rushman overseeing everything. It was all state of the art – the best of the best was all Harvey and Jennifer would accept, after all. That was why Harry had such a remarkable recovery... I didn't want to think of what the medical expenses would have been, had we gone to a hospital that actually charged its patients.

"Ah, finally! The wanderer returns!" Harry grinned lopsidedly as I entered his room. He was sitting on the edge of his bed in clothes Jennifer delivered to him earlier. The mansion had a dress code of all black – much like the agency had.

Harvey had explained to me how he had built this 'company' up from the ground. They were a tiny organisation, truly there to help the greater good. This mansion was their base and all important meetings were held here. They had other properties around the world in which they recruited new agents and trained them in.

Michael Taylor and Dawson had killed multiple agents that had uncovered their proceedings. This agency was a lot more family-orientated than our agency. It was smaller which made every death impact everyone. Especially Harvey and Jennifer. There were approximately two-hundred agents under their wing and all were considered family. Jennifer had even boasted that she knew every single person's name.

When one of their longest friends was killed by one of Michael's crooks, Harvey and Jennifer snapped. They had a lot of contacts at our agency, surprisingly, and got wind that there would be a mission involving Harry and I in the Hampton's. They moved into the mansion across the road from ours and started their fake life – they were so extensive they even fooled Dawson into believing they were just a ditsy couple.

Nobody outside of this agency knows who the founders are – which was why Dawson would never have suspected them.

"You look... pale," I replied to Harry's teasing comment, sitting beside him and running my fingers through his hair affectionately.

He scoffed. "Well sorry, I can't look like a sex-God all of the time!"

"You know what I mean."

"And you know what I mean when I say shut the fuck up about how 'pale' I look – I'm getting out of here and that's that," he stood up slowly, still getting used to walking. He had practised a bit during the week and he seemed fine.

The fact that he needed to practise how to walk still angered me to my very core. If I knew who had done this to him, I would skin them alive. My blood boiled and my soul blackened when I thought of what had been done to Harry – not just recently but throughout his life.

"Stop," he said suddenly.

I lifted my eyes to his. He was standing in front of me, a sad smile on his face.

"Stop what?"

"Stop thinking about it."

"Okay." I was going to try my best but I knew that sub-consciously, my mind would be littered with Harry's pains and tortures for a long, long time.

They had given me a room when I arrived – a king sized bed with an en-suite. I had tried to sleep in there once but failed miserably. I ended up coming down to Harry's hospital room in the middle of the night and setting up residence on the armchair beside his bed.

That had been my sleeping spot for the eight days he was unconscious. And the five days he has been awake, I have stayed in the hospital bed with him. I don't have nightmares when his arms are around me.

We walked slowly – I, doing it on purpose so he didn't feel the need to keep up with me. Rushman had said that after a couple of days, he would be as good as new. Well, he would always have a scar on his arm from the shit stitch work he had done himself. He would need to come back and get the new stitches taken out in a week and also the stitches in the back of his head.

My heart thudded again. He had needed minor brain surgery because of this person. Fucking brain surgery. Thankfully it had been extremely minor – otherwise, Harry would have been out of action for much, much longer. My jaw tightened once more – I couldn't stop the anger. It seeped into my every thought.

His hand enveloped mine instantly and his eyes urged me again to stop thinking about it. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

I led him to the elevator that would bring us to the fourth floor where our room was. We had a meeting in an hour to discuss our plans. We hadn't discussed much in the time Harry was in the hospital – we still had a lot of questions. But I trusted Harvey and Jennifer.

"Where's Tom, actually?" Harry asked as we ascended the lift.

I was taken aback that Harry had even bothered to ask about Tom's whereabouts. I hadn't mentioned him ever in Harry's presence since we were here. It was obvious that Tom still irked Harry and I didn't want anything or anyone troubling his mind during his speedy recovery.

"He's in Amsterdam."

"What? What the fuck is he doing there?"

"Three days after we arrived here we all held a meeting regarding Michael and Dawson. They've disappeared off of the radar. Our old agency has no new information on them and none of Harvey or Jennifer's contacts in Michael's gang had any idea where he is, either. A contact in our agency however remembered Dawson hiding away in Amsterdam a few years ago when he was being targeted by an enemy. So Tom and a few of the people here went there."

Harry let this information sink in. "How do you know that Tom hasn't been ambushed by these people and is dead?"

Harry was still having a lot of trust issues, which I completely understood. If it wasn't for the way the Collins' had treated me so respectfully and caringly in the time Harry was unconscious, I wouldn't trust them either. But my gut once again was my guide and it guided me to the conclusion that they were good, honest people.

"Because I speak to him everyday via video chat."

Harry stiffened beside me. The elevator was almost on the fourth floor.

"They're all okay but have made no progress... they don't think they're there. No stone has been left unturned, according to Tom."

Harry let this information sink in and didn't speak until we were in our new room. He raised his eyebrows at the luxury of the place and turned to face me, wincing slightly. He was still in pain but his recovery had been remarkable.

"We need to wait it out. My father is an impatient son of a bitch – he won't last long knowing that Tom, Hugh and I are still out there. We all 'betrayed' him. He isn't a 'move on and forget' kind of guy."

I nodded slowly at Harry's hypothesis. It was probably our only option at the moment. Hugh and Tom would only waste time by trying to think of places Michael would hide – he wouldn't be stupid enough to go somewhere he knew they knew about.

As Harry settled in and sussed the place out, I texted Harvey off of the brand new phone he had given me. They had attempted to rescue George's body from the warehouse a couple of days ago at my request. They were unsuccessful. His body was gone – no remains were on the scene and nothing had been registered in any morgues around the city.

Michael had taken his body – I was sure of it. Taken it to use as leverage, I was guessing. He knew how close we were to George – we would do anything to have a proper burial and goodbye. And he was sabotaging that.

Harvey texted me back, replying to my question on whether they had any luck with finding George – they were searching all the surrounding areas but we knew it was futile. I just needed to double check before breaking the news to Harry. 'No.' was the only he replied to me.

He was as disgusted as I was and he never even knew George. It sickened me to my core to think of his body with them people.

My throat constricted and I knew I had waited long enough to tell Harry. I took in a rattled breath before speaking. He was staring out of the bedroom window that faced out onto the acres of field and land – it was what lay underneath the surface of the grass that was interesting, though. That was where every single training session took place – where all of the weapons were. It was the core of the mansion. Nobody would guess there was a massive underground burrow in the serene gardens.

Harvey was going to show us how to get there soon – once we were both strong enough to get back to training and focus our minds.

It would take a while before Harry's mind would focus properly again – especially after this conversation.

"Harry – there's something I need to tell you," I began, only to be interrupted.

"Do I want to know?" he asked tiredly. He didn't turn around to face me and I suspected he had been thinking about the very person I was about to bring up prior to this conversation. It was as if he knew.

I just needed to say it fast – whether he wanted to know or not. "They couldn't get George's body. It's gone."

He remained still for what seemed like an eternity before his shoulders slumped and started shaking. We hadn't spoken about George at all – I hadn't wanted to bring him up while Harry was recovering and it was obvious Harry hadn't wanted to bring him up full stop.

I quickly walked to Harry and put my hand on his shoulder as he cried, coaxing him to face me. Once he did, he cried into my chest for a solid ten minutes. It was two week's worth of a build-up of tears and grief. Adding heartbreak to the mix was obviously going to tip him over the edge.

"I just can't believe he's gone. Georgie is gone – I'm never going to see him again," he wept, wiping his eyes and stepping back from me. I had tears in my eyes, too – tears of anger and sadness.

"I know..." I murmured.

"I should never have let him join us. I was so stupid! I was selfish having him around – I treated it like a fun reunion but it wasn't. It was a fucking death sentence," he spat, his eyes turning livid.

I took his hand in mine, determined to get through to him. "This wasn't your fault, Harry. We all decided to allow George to join and George joined of his own free will. It could have been any of us that died – we all went there of our own free will."

He didn't reply but I saw the fire in his eyes stifle a bit.

We stood there silently for a few more moments, me stroking his hand with my thumb and trying to calm him.

The silence was interrupted by my phone beeping once more. It was from Harvey. He wanted to see Harry and I in an hour at Meeting Room A to discuss our plans. All of his top agents would be there and they were Skyping in Tom and the crew with him in Amsterdam.

I showed the text to Harry and he nodded, sniffling, clenching his jaw. He looked furiously determined.

"I'm going to find my father and our low-life ex-Captain and rip their guts out. I'm going to find Georgie and give him a proper burial so he can rest in fucking peace. And then the two of us are quitting this fucked-up lifestyle and moving to Barbados, getting married and adopting some kids. Because I'm not playing around anymore – they will pay for what they've done to us," he snarled.

My mind drifted to Barbados before I realised I was focusing on the wrong thing.

I gritted my teeth and nodded. "They're not ruling our lives for much longer. I won't rest until we have them begging for mercy."

We intertwined our fingers and gave a tight, meaningful squeeze. This meeting in an hour was the first step towards our end-goal. We were twenty-eight years old – we had so much time left to be happy but we also had no time left to lose – I had a life in Barbados to get to, apparently. And I would be damned if these bastards were going to keep me from it.

- - -

TWO YEARS LATER

The weather matched the mood perfectly – murky and drizzly. The sky was grey and any sunlight was concealed by the gathering clouds. I tried to think of the term I had learned in school, used when the weather matched the mood of a person but my mind wasn't working.

There was too much on it to be thinking of stuff learned in high school, years ago in a different lifetime.

"We are gathered here today to celebrate the life of an extraordinary man – a man who impacted so many people's lives and who was cruelly taken away from us so suddenly."

The priest's voice was dull and I gritted my teeth to stop from yawning – that would be beyond rude. I had barely slept last night with thoughts of today lingering in my mind. I was always tired. Sleeping was a very rare occurrence and when I did sleep, I was bombarded with those damn nightmares.

We were standing in the middle of a graveyard that was secluded and miles from anywhere. It was the graveyard in which Harvey and Jennifer buried their lost agents. Much of the people in the ground were there by the hands of Dawson and Michael. Especially over the past two years. Today was no exception.

The priest droned on and on about how precious life was and I swear my eyes would have shut if something to my left didn't catch my eye. Or someone.

"Is that – ?"

"Yes." I answered Tom immediately. I felt like I was going to puke from the butterflies battering my stomach. My heart rate had increased astronomically in the past ten seconds – I had never thought I would see him again. An immediate cold sweat spread across my forehead and I struggled to see ahead of me.

They were back.

Harry and Hugh left the mansion and the organisation seven months ago. They had also left me.

My lips thinned and I redirected my gaze towards the priest again, not letting them think I cared that they had returned. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

I didn't give a shit that they were back – they had been gone for almost a year and I had moved on. I was happier than ever, actually. Happier than I had been in years.

My eyes involuntarily welled with tears as the emotions came crashing down. I was a fraud. I was the most depressed I had ever been in my life and the fact that the two of them had returned was making me weak at the knees. This was a fight or flight moment – and I wanted to fly out of here as fast as humanely possible.

I wasn't strong enough to see him again – never mind talk to him.

My thoughts were redirected towards the funeral in front of me. They were beginning to lower the coffin into the ground and I felt like one of my burdens was being lowered down with it, off of my weary shoulders.

George Sullivan was murdered by Michael Taylor two years ago. It was only last week that they recovered what remained of him. Harvey and Jennifer had apparently sent agents out to a remote town in southern USA where apparent sightings of Dawson and Michael, along with a fuck-load of their crooks were reported.

When they had arrived, it was clear that someone had seen them coming and tipped off Dawson and Michael, making their getaway messy yet successful. They had left behind most of their stuff in their hurry to escape – including the human remains of an unidentified person in a body bag.

They had carried him around for two fucking years. They had done it to goad us – we had received multiple tip-offs that they had his remains and were going to dump them if we didn't stop looking for them.

I was glad that we never stopped. I knew that George was looking down, pointing us in the right directions. It was only a matter of time.

Harvey and Jennifer were standing on the other side of the graveyard, both staring over at Hugh and Harry. They seemed to be glaring at them – they were probably as pissed off as I was.

I was avoiding Harry's gaze, which I knew was now landed on me. I tried so hard to hate him the past seven months and when that became impossible, I tried my best to forget him. But I couldn't. I was still in shock that he had left in the first place.

It had been our mission two years ago to take down Dawson and Michael. And then, eight months ago, Harry stopped caring. He gave up and admitted defeat – no matter how hard we tried to get him to fight. He was sick of fighting. Not even Harvey or Jennifer could convince him or reignite the passion in him – no amount of one-on-one meetings they had with him or extra training programmes.

The roles had reversed – it had always been me who begged him to run away and just live in hiding for the rest of our lives. But now, I would die before giving in. After they killed George and treated his remains with such lack of respect, it enraged me. Everything they had done to us – especially Harry – boiled my blood. There was no way I was letting them get away with it – not in this lifetime.

And it was when I realised all of this – that not even Harry could change my mind – was when he gave me the ultimatum. Either I left Harvey's agency with him and Hugh and set up life in Barbados, or wherever the fuck he wanted to go, or they left without me.

I had been hurt beyond belief that he claimed he would leave without me if I refused his wishes. But I never believed he actually would. So when I told him to get a grip and fight back with me, he lost it. We argued for hours and when my resilience was wearing and I was about to give in, he said those damned words.

'Maybe we're better apart, anyway. Our relationship is so fucked up – we don't love each other in the way we thought. Or maybe it wasn't even love. We've just relied and depended on each other for so long, maybe we just assumed it was love.'

I had called bullshit on him and told him I didn't believe a word he was saying. I didn't believe that he even believed what he was saying. Sure, he had been becoming more distant with me and I could barely remember when he last allowed me to touch him. He was exhausted of fighting and hiding – it was obvious his passion for life had completely disappeared. But the one thing I wouldn't accept was that he didn't love me.

Because I knew he did – this mission was just fucking with his head. We had come so close to catching Michael and Dawson so many times, only to lose them at the last second. Harry was getting more and more tired and it was affecting his mood.

He barely spoke to me the following days, only reiterating his ultimatum. Go with him and Hugh and live in hiding for the rest of our lives or stay and fight. I had begged and pleaded with him so many times to stay. Because I knew I couldn't leave – a fire had started and nothing could quench it but vengeance and justice. I couldn't understand how Harry's mindset on this situation had changed so much – why was he giving up?

He told me if I wanted to leave to meet him the next morning outside the mansion doors. Harvey and Jennifer couldn't even get through to him and Hugh. I went to the mansion doors the next morning after a restless night, sleeping alone, as I had been for several weeks, to see Harry waiting impatiently. When he saw I had no bags packed but merely a pleading, desperate and distraught look on my face he sighed. But I knew it wasn't a sigh of defeat. He was still going to go.

I had been about to give in and run to get my packed bag upstairs – I had packed it the night before with tears streaming down my cheeks. But he never gave me the option.

"This is for the best," he smiled sadly. "I just want the best for you. And you staying here is what's best. There's nothing wrong with drifting apart. After all, 'it's better to have loved and lost than never loved at all', eh?" he had actually winked and laughed. Hugh grinned too as he finished loading the car, nodding his head as if that was to comfort me. I could see the tears in his eyes, though.

Hugh seemed to be having a tougher time than Harry saying goodbye to me. And that hurt me more than anything.

"Why are you doing this?" I whispered, my voice hoarse. Harvey and Jennifer had walked outside and stood on either side of me, holding and patting my arms in comfort.

Harry's face dropped slightly before he freshened up once more and placed the optimistic smile on his face. "I'm so grateful of the years we had together. But now it's time for a new adventure. We'll meet again, Ethan – I'm sure of it. This doesn't have to be a sad goodbye..."

He came over and gave me a tight hug, ruffling my hair playfully. I was numb. I couldn't believe this was happening and he was being so cool about it. Even though he'd been growing much more distant towards me in the last few months, I had never envisioned this. Sure, I had worried about how long it had been since we'd had sex. How long it had been since we kissed. How long it had been since we hugged. How long it had been since we properly talked... My mind was full of panicked plans on how I was going to get the old Harry back. Him leaving here and me was never on my mind.

I wanted to beg him once more... I would have even begged to come with him at this stage... but it was futile. He didn't want me to come.

"But... I love you..." I said pathetically, the tears starting to drop.

"And I love you too. You'll always have a place in my heart. But I can't stay here anymore. I can't live like this anymore."

My sadness was slowly turning to rage. "Please. Don't leave me."

"I... I don't want to hurt you, Ethan..." he said quietly, trying to act reasonable. I wanted to punch him.

"Well then why the fuck are you doing this?" I roared.

"Ethan, come on honey, let him go," Jennifer said soothingly, taking my hand in hers. I snatched mine away immediately, walking towards Harry. He looked at me wearily but didn't retreat.

"If you drive away I will never speak to you again," I snarled. Hugh had come to Harry's side and had tears rushing down his cheeks. I was going to knock him out if he didn't get a grip. "That goes for you too, Hugh." I added for good measure.

"I'm sorry," Harry said quietly, turning on his heel and striding to the car he had bought a few weeks ago. I had been so excited for him when he bought this car. Now, I wanted to burn it to the ground.

"I'm sorry too, Ethan," Hugh choked out, running to the passenger side.

When they slammed both of their doors shut, Harry started up the engine and started driving away almost immediately. My heart dropped.

"No!" I roared, running after it down the driveway. "Harry stop! Please! I'll come with you!" I cried. I kept running until the car was out of sight. Dropping to my knees I started sobbing. Eventually someone caught up to me – I had run quite a bit, even following the car once it had left the long winding driveway.

"Hey, hey... shhh.. It's okay." Tom. Of course he was the fastest out of the rest who could catch up to me the quickest. He put his strong arms around me in a tight hug as I cried. I didn't even have the control to push him away so instead, I kept sobbing into his chest.

I had searched for him for weeks, until I realised he didn't want to be found. It was Tom, Harvey and Jennifer who were the ones to catch me when this hit me. I had been resigned to my bed for a full week, in a pit of depression, when they finally forced me to rejoin humanity.

I was snapped out of the heart-wrenching memory by the movement of people. Twelve of us held roses in our hands, each to be dropped onto the coffin that now rested on the floor of the earth. Out of the twelve, Tom and I were the only ones to ever know George. The rest just honoured his memory and knew his character from the countless stories I had been telling over the past few days.

I had returned to my former self – the person I was before Harry and after Tom. I rarely spoke unless necessary and if I was honest, I could be an asshole. But once we found George's remains, I had to speak up. I didn't want his funeral to consist of people only there out of politeness. I wanted them to know at least a tenth of the person he was.

I was the last person in the line to drop a rose. A tear dropped from my eye as it joined the others, acting like a cascade of protection over the wooden coffin. Sleep well, brother.

Raising my eyes to the crowd around the service, I wasn't surprised that my eyes connected with Harry's immediately. He had moved through the crowd until he was up the front, a pained expression on his face.

My lip curled automatically in anger. The flashback I had just had reignited my anger. My depression and achingly raw sadness had dissolved into mind-bending rage. I took it out by exercise, normally. Over the past few weeks I had needed to up my gym time – Tom had commented on how I was becoming too snappy with the agents around here. I had counted on my anger waning as time passed.

But it seemed the longer I was apart from Harry, the worse my mood became.

I walked back and stood beside Tom. He took my hand and squeezed it tightly when he saw the hurt in my eyes. I took a deep breath, just like we had practiced, and tried to calm myself.

Tom and I had become increasingly close. Purely platonically, of course. No matter how much Harry hurt me, I wasn't going to move on to spite him. If moving on was even an option for me.

However, of late, I was beginning to question myself. I tried to shut Harry's face and eyes and smile out and invite Tom's in. Over time it had to start working. I was counting on it to start working – I needed to be happy too, for fuck's sake. I had loved Tom once – surely I could love him like that again?

As the service ended and people disappeared, I waited back with Tom, Jennifer and Harvey.

There was to be a dinner at the mansion once we got back. I had told Harvey I would be late to it as I wanted to spend time at the graveyard once all of the faceless guests and attendees had left and driven off. Him, Jennifer and Tom had insisted on staying with me – once again, being my emotional rocks.

I hated being so dependent.

Two others seemed to be sticking around too, however. Harry and Hugh were still stood in the same spot on the other side of the grave. Harry's head was down so I couldn't read his face. Hugh's face was red from crying.

It killed me to say it but I missed that emotional wreck. I would never, ever admit that to him or anyone. They burned all bridges with me once Harry stepped on the accelerator that day.

I kept my eyes trained on the headstone. Even after two years I was still in disbelief that George was dead. And I was still murderously livid.

I wondered how Harry felt now. It had broken him when we hadn't found George's body – what was going through his head? Was he still as devastated as I was?

No. I didn't need to think or care about Harry anymore. I wouldn't.

Harvey walked over to where Harry and Hugh were standing and started speaking quietly to them.

"Maybe we should just head on back to the mansion – come back tomorrow?" Jennifer asked cautiously. Harvey seemed to be arguing with Harry now – how fucking disrespectful of Harry. Fighting on a day like this. He should never have come.

"Fine," I replied through gritted teeth. I wanted to so badly be a toddler and throw my toys out of the pram in a fit. They should be the ones to leave. I wasn't going to cause a scene, though. Not today.

Tom put his hand on my back and guided me towards the exit. I didn't look back at Harry or Hugh once, and that wasn't helping the huge lump in my throat. I could be the most ruthless person in the world – but never did I think it would be aimed at Harry or Hugh.

"No – Harry wait!" I heard Harvey shout. This stopped us in our tracks. I turned around to see Harry storming towards us, an unreadable look in his eye.

I didn't speak and only stared at him, a stoic look on my face. This seemed to annoy him.

"How – how have you been?" he spluttered out, his eyes red.

I raised an eyebrow. How had I been? How had I been? An emotional wreck, heartbroken and a complete and utter mess. That's how I had fucking been.

"Fine," I replied.

Harry's eyes snapped to Tom's hand, which was still on my back. He didn't move it. And I was glad. I wanted Harry to think that I had moved on, just like he had wanted. He didn't get to throw me away like a broken toy and then assume we were on good terms when he returned to town for a weekend.

Because I assumed he was purely here for George's funeral, however he had heard about it. I wouldn't allow any other possibility enter my mind. I needed to remain focused on being fine.

"So are you two together now, or what?" he snapped, his eyes blazing when Tom's hand stayed put. Typical Harry. I didn't allow one emotion to enter my face – I was extremely good at masking my feelings these days.

"Alright, Harry. That's enough," Hugh intervened, trying to pull Harry by the arm towards the exit, "Hi, Ethan," he choked out as our eyes locked, his emotions getting the better of him once more.

I didn't reply. Hugh's face fell and more tears spilled out.

"It's just a simple question, why can't he answer?" Harry pushed further, his eyes stuck to mine in an accusatory look.

How fucking dare he – how dare he have the nerve to give me shit over this. If he wanted to assume Tom and I were together, I wouldn't stop him – I had done nothing wrong. He left me. Or had he forgotten that?

"Let's go," I said to Tom and turned my back, walking calmly towards the exit. My mind was in chaos. I just needed to make it to the car. Tom followed me, eyeing me with concern. I could still hear Harry, Hugh and Harvey arguing as I walked away. I even thought I heard Harry calling me but I kept walking.

Jennifer was crying. Why would she be crying? She was a strong woman – obviously the day and Harry's unexpected arrival along with his unacceptable behaviour had gotten to her.

Tom automatically took the driver's seat of the agency car we had shared here. My hands were shaking.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly as we sped away from the graveyard. I tried not to look back but I couldn't help it. Harry had his face in his hands and Harvey and Jennifer seemed to be... comforting him?

I shook my head, knowing my eyes were playing tricks on me.

"I'm fine," I said through thin lips to Tom.

He sighed knowingly. This day was a setback. Harry's reappearance was catastrophic to any progress I may have made. I doubted I'd made much, though. If any.

Now that we were driving away, my anger was subsiding and I wanted to make Tom turn around so I could see him again. To talk things out – to fix any problems. I would do anything.

No – I wouldn't be a fool again. I needed to man up and make it through this. I could lie to myself if it made things easier. Pretend I was 'fine'. Because I wasn't trying to fix myself anymore – I was just trying to survive.

I was an addict and Harry Taylor was my drug – even if I never saw him again, I would always be addicted.

There was no cure.

Chapter Twenty is certainly an emotional rollercoaster... What are your thoughts? I was nervous about the two year time jump but I'm hoping I have you all intrigued...

Anyway, 'Undercover' is slowly but surely coming to its end – I know, sad times :(

I can't give you an exact number of chapters that are left but 'few' is all I can say – I hope you're excited for what's to come, though :D

Any ideas on what's happened in the two years that have passed to leave Harry and Ethan's relationship so broken? Comment away ;)

I love theories so if you have any, let me know!! Thanks so much to all of you readers, you really give me the confidence I need to write!

Have a good day.

Song is 'All I Want' by the amazing band Kodaline. If you haven't heard it before, I highly HIGHLY recommend you listen to it.

-O x