Reasons Not to Fall in Love Part 2

I was a little reluctant to turn around. Harrison Baxter did funny things to my insides, things I really shouldn't allow myself to feel, but I had no control over them.

"Whoa, what happened to you anyway?" Skye asked, frowning.

Unable to resist any longer, I turned to see Harrison standing just behind me. The white t-s.h.i.+rt that he wore was rumpled and covered in dirt and what looked like grease, his blonde hair was messier than usual, and he had a black smudge on his right cheek just under his eye. Somehow, his dishevelled and dirty appearance made him look even more appealing. I really needed to get a hold of myself and quickly because my husband was here with me for a change today, so I couldn't let this guy affect me like he usually did.

He shrugged, looking down at himself. "b.l.o.o.d.y tyre burst on the way here. I had to stop and change it," he explained.

"Don't you have AA or RAC?" Skye asked, clicking her tongue in disapproval.

Harrison nodded in response, pulling a rectangular, badly wrapped present from a Toys R' Us carrier bag and setting it amongst the other presents on the table. "I do, yeah, but if I'd called them out then I would have been sat there waiting for ages for them to turn up. I just changed it myself because it's quicker. Didn't want to miss too much of the party, I might have missed cake!" he said with mock horror.

Skye sighed, picking up a few empty plates. "I'll just take these inside and then I'll find you one of Brandon's s.h.i.+rts or something to put on. You look a mess," she chuckled, shaking her head. "This is what you get for buying an old cla.s.sic car instead of something reliable."

"Ahh, I knew you'd find an excuse to knock the car again," Harrison grinned, picking up a sausage roll and popping it into his mouth whole. As Skye left, Harrison's attention turned to me. "Long time no see, Bronwyn, how are you?"

The way he said my name made my pulse quicken, the way his tongue toyed with it and caressed it had my knees weakening and my cheeks threatening to blanch. I gulped, hoping I could keep the l.u.s.t out of my voice. "I'm good. How are you, apart from putting some poor roadside a.s.sistance man out of a job?" I joked, hoping to come across as aloof.

He stepped up beside me and picked up a paper plate. "Not bad. I've been working a lot more than I usually would, not as much time off as I'd like because of the company expanding recently, but other than that, I'm good," he answered, eyeing the buffet table with interest. "So, did I miss all the fun?"

I grinned and shrugged. "You missed pa.s.s-the-parcel and hide-and-seek," I replied, before nodding towards the clown who was calling all the kids to sit down on the gra.s.s in front of him. "Looks like you're just in time for some magic though."

Harrison looked in the direction that I nodded, and his eyes widened in apparent horror. "Oh s.h.i.+t, it's like Pennywise from IT!" He recoiled visibly before leaning in so he could whisper in my ear. "Why would someone hire him for a kid's birthday party? Have they not seen the film? m.o.f.o's going to go mad and start killing people soon."

I burst out laughing and shook my head. "Want your boat, Georgie?" I replied, using a line from the book that was actually one of my favourites and the reason I didn't like clowns to this day. I nudged him with my elbow and nodded towards the scary-a.r.s.e clown. "Go ask him if his balloons float," I dared.

Harrison laughed a deep throaty laugh, his eyes twinkling. "I forgot how funny you are, Bronwyn."

I grinned, a little bemused by his comment. Harrison always said I was funny but that confused me because Finn never seemed to get my humour at all. Maybe it was because Harrison and I seemed to have so much in common and got along so well. I hadn't seen him for almost a year, yet he just walked in and we were already laughing and talking like we'd spoken only yesterday. It was nice, and one of the reasons I looked forward to coming to visit family each time.

"You not eating?" Harrison asked, loading his plate with food.

I smiled. I hadn't actually eaten yet, I was too busy making sure all the kids ate first and that Finn had lined his stomach to soak up some of the alcohol that he'd been consuming since eleven o'clock this morning. "Yeah, I am." I picked up a plate, and just as I reached out for the last plain cheese sandwich on the tray, my hand collided with Harrison's who was reaching for it at the same time. I smiled, pulling my hand away, nodding for him to take it. "Sorry, you have it."

He grinned, picking up the sandwich. Instead of putting it on his plate though, he set it on mine. "You have it. I know you don't like most of this other stuff," he replied, shrugging.

I frowned, wondering how he would know that. "How'd you know that?"

He turned away from me, loading up his plate with an array of the food that Skye, my mother and I had been slaving away at making all morning. "Believe it or not, I've been to several of these parties with you over the last few years, and I know you're a fussy eater just from watching you select your buffet food. You only eat cheese sandwiches, no pickle," he stated as if it were obvious. "And cheese pizza, but you leave the crust. Looks like all the pizza has gone though."

I smiled, bemused that he would have noticed my eating habits. "Right. Well, thanks." I picked up the sandwich, taking a bite, musing over how different Harrison was to my inattentive and ungracious husband. Harrison would certainly make someone a great boyfriend or husband one day, when the lucky girl finally managed to catch his eye and make him settle down. "You on your own today, no date?" I enquired. I never actually saw him with a date. I knew he played the field a lot because Skye had told me, but I'd never seen him bring a plus one to anything.

He shrugged. "Nah. Can't hit on you if I bring a date, can I?" he joked. One side of his mouth pulled up into a playful smirk, and I tried extremely hard not to notice how attractive it made him look. Instead, I focused on the black smudge on his face.

"You have something on your cheek," I muttered, unsure how to respond to his flirting. Immediately, he swiped at the wrong cheek. I smiled and pointed to the mark, but as he rubbed it, it just smudged even more and grew. I chuckled and picked up a napkin, dipping it in my white wine that I'd been working on for the last hour. "Here, let me."

Stepping closer to him, I tried not to inhale the spicy aftershave that he wore, because the smell of it made the hair on my arms p.r.i.c.kle with excitement. He had always caused this reaction in me; it was like he turned me into a giddy little girl just with one of his boyish, carefree smiles. Even with my husband standing less than thirty feet from me, I still couldn't curb the attraction that I felt for my brother-in-law's business partner. My fantasies and imagination of things I'd like to do to his body bordered on obscene for a few days after I'd seen Harrison. Finn was in for a good night tonight, because l.u.s.t was building up inside me in preposterous levels.

I gulped as I finished cleaning off the smudge and stepped back. A s.e.xy little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Thanks."

"No problem," I muttered in reply, feeling my cheeks flush as I tried not to let my dirty thoughts show on my face.

"Here," Skye said from just beside me, causing me to almost jump out of my skin because I'd been so inappropriately lost in the moment with Harrison. We both turned and looked, seeing her holding out a clean pale blue s.h.i.+rt. "Should fit you, you and Brandon are both about the same size."

Harrison smiled gratefully and took it, immediately yanking his own s.h.i.+rt over his head. My eyes widened as I caught my first ever glimpse of his golden tanned chest and that fine spattering of blonde hair on the base of his stomach the treasure trail that led to the good stuff. My dirty thoughts were back in abundance.

Knowing it was wrong of me to devour his body with my eyes in front of everyone, I turned my head away. As I turned, I caught sight of Finn. He was exactly where I last saw him propping up the booze table. Except now he wasn't on his own drinking away his sorrows; instead, a girl who I used to go to school with was standing there talking to him. My eyes narrowed as I realised who she was Morgan Henshall. She was one of Skye's friends, so a couple of years older than me, but I remembered her for being a serial boyfriend stealer. If my memory served me correctly, she prided herself in being able to steal even the most committed of boyfriends; it was like some sort of game for her at school.

They were laughing together; she was standing too close to him for my liking. I knew he was drunk, I could tell by the lopsidedness of his smile and the way his left shoulder was slightly lower than his right, it was always the giveaway. I wasn't surprised he was drunk, he'd had his first beer at eleven o'clock so he'd been drinking already for a solid six hours. When he, rarely, accompanied me to a family gathering, he always seemed to drown his sorrows in alcohol. It was one of the reasons why I didn't ask him to come with me often, and I think one of the reasons why he did it. I frowned at the pair, gritting my teeth in frustration.

"I'm going to go say happy birthday to Evie." Harrison's hand touched the small of my back for a second and I turned my attention back to him and away from my husband who was clearly flirting with someone else while at my niece's birthday party and standing in my sister's garden. "Watch my food for me, huh? Make sure some little sod kid doesn't come and nick my chicken nuggets." He winked at me playfully and, just like that, the tension inside me diffused momentarily.

"You're such a child sometimes," I joked, rolling my eyes as he walked off towards the scary-looking clown that was producing overly large, fake flowers from his sleeve. When Harrison turned back to grin at me, I took one of his chicken nuggets and ate it just to spite him. His eyes narrowed as he pursed his lips in silent scolding, before plopping himself down on the gra.s.s next to Evie and joining in the fun.

My gaze travelled back to Finn as I sipped my wine. He was still talking with Morgan; she was currently giggling at something he'd said. Anger was making my feet twitch, and I longed to go over there and throw my wine right in his eyes and smile while it stung. Instead, I stayed back, watching, praying for her to walk away before other people noticed that my, supposedly loving, husband was trying his best to get into some taller, prettier, skinnier girl's pants.

I didn't want to cause a scene; I also didn't want people to look at me with that sympathetic Aww, you couldn't hold onto your man? You poor dear' look in their eyes that they looked at me with last time I told my family that he'd cheated. But when Morgan put her hand on Finn's arm and he leant in, giving her that smile, I saw red.

Roughly setting my wine down onto the table, not even caring that it slopped over the sides and onto my hand, I stomped in their direction. When I got to them, Morgan looked up and her eyes widened in surprise before a smile graced her lips.

"Bronwyn? It's been years since I saw you! How are you?" she gushed, discreetly taking a step away from my husband and letting her hand drop from his arm.

I forced a smile in return. "I've been good, thank you. I see you've met Finn, my husband," I replied, putting plenty of emphasis around the last word as I slipped my hand in his and raised my chin.

Her gaze darted to him and one of her eyes twitched as if this was a new revelation. Maybe she hadn't noticed the ring that he wore on his finger... or maybe she had seen it but just hadn't realised he was married to her friend's little sister.

"Oh, yes, we kind of already met. Finn was just helping me open my wine," she lied, picking up her gla.s.s as evidence of his helpful act. "I'll catch up with you soon, Bronwyn." Without waiting for an answer, she sauntered off quickly, walking up to a group of Skye's friends and immersing herself in conversation, discreetly checking over her shoulder at us.

Finn squeezed my hand. "Uh oh, is someone jealous?"

Jealous? That had to be a joke. Dropping his hand, I turned to face him, looking him right in the eye. "Jealous? I'm not jealous of a s.l.u.t like that. But I am b.l.o.o.d.y furious that you'd disrespect me in front of my whole family by hitting on one of my sister's friends at a birthday party!" I hissed, leaning in so no one would suspect we were about to have one of our famous blazing rows. "What's wrong with you? Seriously?"

He shrugged, reaching out and touching my face awkwardly with his drunken coordination so instead of the affectionate gesture he was going for, it was more like he smooshed my cheek roughly. "It was harmless," he replied. "I'm just killing some time before we can go home. This f.u.c.king thing is boring as ever."

I gritted my teeth as my hands clenched into fists. I wanted to punch something, really hard, right in the centre of his flirtatious, drunken face. "It's one thing to do this kind of s.h.i.+t in secret and me not see it or know about it, it's quite another to have you parading around at my niece's birthday party leeching onto my childhood friends and not even seeming concerned that my family might see!"

He chuckled darkly. "I'm not parading around. I'm just waiting for this f.u.c.king thing to be over so we can leave. Kids' parties aren't my thing, you know that."

"Yeah, your thing is getting drunk and gambling our rent money away," I snapped, slapping away his hand as he went to touch my face again. "Don't touch me. Seriously, I'm so angry with you that I want to... to..." I didn't even know what I wanted to do.

A smirk graced his lips as he leant in. His beer breath blew across my face, and I silently wondered exactly how much alcohol he'd ingested. My guess would be, a lot. "Want to go blow off some steam and have angry s.e.x?" he offered, winking at me.

I almost choked on my scoff. "Screw you," I muttered.

His smile grew. "That's what I offered," he replied, hiccupping before letting out a large belch that caused the people near us to turn their noses up in distaste.

I shook my head in frustration. "Why do you even bother coming with me to family parties? Seriously, all you do is whine about wanting to go home, get drunk, embarra.s.s me and then sit on your phone playing online poker using my mum's internet!"

His eyes narrowed as he downed the last of his beer before slamming the bottle down onto the table. "I come because you make me come!" he retorted.

"I don't make you come," I protested, gritting my teeth.

He rolled his eyes as if I'd said something ludicrous. "Yes, you do, b.u.t.tercup. If I don't come with you then you sulk and don't talk to me for days, and when you get back you make sarcastic comments about how everyone missed me and asked about me, trying to make me feel guilty."

"I don't do it to make you feel guilty; I tell you that because people always ask where you are." Grinding my teeth in frustration, I shook my head. To be honest, it was easier for me when he wasn't here. At least then I didn't have to watch over him all the time, making sure he wasn't too drunk and going to throw up somewhere, or say something inappropriate, or hit on my sister's friends. I wasn't even sure why I always asked him to accompany me to family gatherings maybe it was because I was secretly hoping that one day he'd actually want to be accepted as part of my family and that he'd appreciate the effort they went to to include him. But no, it was clear now that would never happen. Finn wasn't interested in being accepted by anyone. "Know what, just don't come any more. Don't come to your niece's parties, don't wish her happy birthday, don't come to stay at my mum's any more then."

"Your niece, not mine," he corrected.

My hand itched to slap his face. Biologically yes, she was my niece, but he had known her since birth, didn't that count as family in his eyes? "Whatever, just don't come to any more family events then, I'll go on my own with Theo."

"Thank the f.u.c.king lord for small mercies," he muttered sarcastically.

Frustrated and angered even more, I shook my head knowing I needed to walk away from him. If I stayed there much longer then I'd start shouting, and then he'd start shouting, and then I'd start throwing things, and that never ended well. "Just go upstairs and sober up, I'm done talking to you." I stomped off back to the table where I'd left my wine, picking it up and downing half a gla.s.s in two gulps.

Eyeing me worriedly, my mum excused herself from her friends and walked over to me. "Everything OK?" she enquired.

I nodded, forcing a smile so that she wouldn't know that I was mere moments from bursting into frustrated tears. "Everything's fine. Shall I go get the matches for the cake?" I offered, trying to change the subject. From the corner of my eye, I saw Finn stomp into the house with a beer in each hand. I had no doubt in my mind that he would spend the rest of the party in the house and playing games on his phone and then we'd ignore each other for the rest of the night before pretending like nothing had happened in the morning once he was sober.

Mum nodded. Her furrowed brows told me that she didn't believe that I was all right, but that she didn't want to probe. I loved her even more for not prying because I didn't want to admit that she'd been right about Finn all along, and that he was no good for me, and that he would hurt me in the long run. Leaning in, I planted a soft kiss on her cheek before heading into the house to find the matches and pretend like I didn't feel like a worthless pile of dog s.h.i.+t inside.

All I wanted, all I'd ever really wanted, was for Finn to just love me like he should do and for us to lead a normal, happy life together. Was that really too much to ask for? Apparently it was.

August 2013 The year following the birthday party was a hard one for me and Finn. Money was tight because Finn had written off the car in an accident, so we'd had to buy a new one, well, a new old one. As a result of having to pay out for the new car, spare money was few and far between, which meant that some things had to give.

I was working extra s.h.i.+fts whenever possible, and Finn had to cut back on his drinking. With him not drinking as much, he stayed home more often in the evenings, but all that resulted in was us arguing more. By spending more time together, it became glaringly obvious that we were totally and utterly incompatible. I'd known it before then, of course, but somehow our relations.h.i.+p worked because it was almost as if we led two separate lives and just shared a bed and bank account. But with us spending more time together, I realised that I actually didn't even like Finn any more. Every single little thing about him irritated me sometimes even just the way he breathed.

The year had been long and painful, but we'd reached the point now where we didn't even argue any more. It was like it was too much effort, too much contact with one another. Even the physical stuff between us had fizzled out. Finn didn't even try to instigate anything any more with me. In fact, it was coming up to our five months' anniversary of no s.e.x. I had a horrible, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that he was getting his kicks with some other girl, but I was too afraid to confront him about it.

I sank to an all-time low. My confidence and self-worth bottomed out, and all I was left with was insecurities and a loathing of my own body, because clearly I wasn't even appealing to Finn in that way any more either. If I were truthful, I'd have to admit that I hated myself. I hated myself for not having the courage to get out of this destructive relations.h.i.+p, I hated myself for letting him treat me this way, and I hated myself for thinking that I didn't deserve better.

The final straw came on a day that I wasn't expecting. I remembered the exact time that my life finally seemed to slip back into place and the exact time that I finally grew a backbone and stood up for myself. It was at 1:13pm on a Tuesday in the first week of August.

I'd just finished work at the diner. Dave, the fry cook, had accidently scheduled two waitresses instead of one, thinking that it would be busy. But the lunchtime rush had never really seemed to come, so Karen and I had flipped a coin and the winner me got to go home an hour early.

As I approached my flat, I knew that something wasn't right.

Finn's car was parked in one of the allocated s.p.a.ces for our building. He should have been working until four. I frowned, fumbling with my keys, hesitating because part of me already knew what I'd find if I went inside. I stopped with my key just millimetres from the lock, unsure if I wanted to go in. The lonely, needy part of me wanted to turn around and walk off, to spend an hour somewhere else and come back at my normal time. Part of me was terrified. But there was another part of me too this time, just a small spark of the old Bronwyn, the one my daddy had raised into a strong, confident woman who knew her worth and place in this world. For a long time I thought that girl had been banished, but she reared her head inside me now, demanding that I walk into the flat and see what I knew was happening inside.

Somewhat unconsciously, my hand unlocked the door and my legs carried me over the threshold, closing the door behind me quietly. Everything looked normal inside my flat, just as I'd left it this morning before going to work. The only thing that was different was the three empty beer cans on the table and the half-drunk gla.s.s of wine with the harlot-red lipstick mark around the rim.

My back stiffened. A little whimper left my lips as my fears were confirmed. Finn had brought someone back to our home for s.e.x. Luckily, Theo was spending the day and night with a friend tonight, so I didn't have to worry about him for a little while.

A bang and a girlish giggle came from the direction of my bedroom, and I closed my eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths preparing myself for what I was about to see. My legs shook as I made the twenty-eight steps to my bedroom door. As my hand closed over the handle, I could hear them inside, heavy breathing, and her moaning my husband's name breathily.

My heart was in my throat as I turned the handle and wrenched the door open.

There they stood, Finn and some pretty, blonde girl that barely looked legal, pressed up against my bedroom wall in a pa.s.sionate embrace. Her s.h.i.+rt was off, exposing a toned, sculpted figure that I'd never had, even before childbirth. His hands were on her pert little a.r.s.e, and hers on the b.u.t.tons of his jeans. Judging by the shocked and horrified expressions on both of their faces, they hadn't heard me come in.

Even though I'd known what I was going to see, the shock of being confronted by Finn with another girl actually made my mouth pop open and the air whoosh out of my lungs at once. I'd never actually caught him cheating before, never seen it with my own eyes, only the evidence after or rumours. Seeing it was worse than I thought it would be. And the disrespect that he would do it in our home, in our bedroom, hurt more than I could have imagined. It was like a slap in the face how low he would sink and how little he cared about me.

Finn immediately stumbled back from the girl and shook his head, holding up his hands innocently. "This isn't what it looks like," he protested, his voice tight and panicked.

I swallowed around the emotions that seemed to be trapped in my throat. I would like to have said that I was angry or distraught at catching my husband moments from banging someone up against a wall, but I wasn't actually angry that he was about to cheat. Foolishly, I'd gotten used to his cheating ways, I didn't expect much else from him really. What I was extremely f.u.c.king angry about was that he had the nerve to do it in our home. That disrespect cut me deeply and tasted so bitter in my mouth that I actually wanted to spit to get rid of it.

"Who's that?" the girl asked, looking from me to Finn. Clearly he'd neglected to tell his lay of choice that he was married.

Finn shook his head quickly. "This is all a misunderstanding. We were just talking. I was just showing... er..." He motioned towards the mortified-looking girl and frowned as if trying to recall her name. "Um..."

"Cheryl!" she hissed, picking up her discarded s.h.i.+rt from the floor and yanking it down over her head.

Finn nodded quickly. "Cheryl, right," he muttered. "I was just..." he gulped, clearly having no lie on hand to make this right. He turned back to me. "It's not what it looks like."

"Who is that?" Cheryl asked again, angrier this time.

"I'm his wife. Did he neglect to tell you that he was married with a child?" I asked.

Her face paled. "But you said you were widowed." She looked at Finn in disbelief.

I kept my gaze glued on Finn as I sank my teeth into the side of my cheek. He'd told her I was dead. The pain of that was crus.h.i.+ng. He recoiled, shaking his head, his lips flailing as if trying to come up with some bulls.h.i.+t lie to get him out of this situation. When it appeared that he had nothing to say for himself, I turned to the girl.

"Go home," was the only thing I could think of to say to her. I couldn't be angry with her if he'd fooled her too, in fact, I actually felt a little sorry for her.

She blinked a couple of times and then nodded, straightening her clothes as she practically ran from the room with tears in her eyes. I turned back to Finn, not even knowing what to say. I had a million things running through my mind, a thousand things I wanted to scream at him what a cheating sc.u.mbag he was, how I hated him, how he was a useless husband, and how low he made me feel because I wasn't enough for him and that he felt the need to seek physical attention from other girls.

But instead I said nothing. As usual I kept it all bottled up, partly because I was afraid that once I said those things I would have to acknowledge the truth of them and do something about it, and partly because I was afraid of the consequences of admitting that we were broken beyond repair.

"How could you do this again?" I finally whispered. But as I spoke, my anger seemed to build like a storm inside me, all of the hurt brewing up from years of being treated like dirt at his hands and for not being appreciated for everything that I did for him. What if it hadn't been me to come in? What if it had been Theo that came home early and caught his father s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g a young girl up against a wall? Rage. It took over everything, coloured my vision, burnt my throat. "You're a useless sack of s.h.i.+t, Finn Reynolds!"

He nodded, flinching as if my words stung. "I know, I know. I'm sorry."

"Sorry? You're sorry? That's not f.u.c.king good enough!" I ranted. "Was she even legal? She looked like a f.u.c.king child!"

His brows furrowed. "She's eighteen," he answered quietly.

I nodded absentmindedly. "That'll be why her t.i.ts looked like f.u.c.king rocks still then, huh?" I muttered. "I'm sick of this s.h.i.+t!" My eyes filled with tears, causing everything to blur.

Finn stepped forward, cupping my cheeks and tilting my head up so I had to look at him. His pale green eyes were sorrowful and apologetic, the same as they always were when I confronted him about one of his affairs. He gulped, and the silence stretched on and on, almost until it became painful as we both stood there and fought against what we both knew we should do.

"I love you," he whispered.

Those words meant nothing to me any more; they were just empty, meaningless words strung together and thrown out for effect. "You can't do. If you did, you wouldn't do this," I replied weakly, putting my hand on his chest and pus.h.i.+ng him away from me.

"But I do," he protested. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, b.u.t.tercup. I don't know what I was thinking. I don't know why I do this. I'm sorry."

I took a deep breath as I realised something that I already knew, way deep down inside me. I was better than this. I was better than this man that stood in front of me that had every single part of me at his disposal, but yet disrespected me so easily for a casual f.u.c.k with a pretty girl. I deserved better than to be treated like this. I put myself through this time and time again because I believed that maybe he would change, maybe he'd stop looking at other girls, maybe, one day, I would be enough for him and then we would fall back in love again and have the life that I dreamt of when I was a little girl.

"I'm sick of this happening, I'm sick of you cheating, I'm sick of feeling second best and that this is my fault somehow. I deserve better than this," I muttered, shaking my head and looking down at my wedding ring on my third finger of my left hand. "I never signed up for this. I hate the way you make me feel so worthless all the time, Finn. I can't do this any more."

He made a strangled noise in the back of his throat as he stepped closer to me again, gripping my upper arms tightly. "What? Bronwyn, don't say that, don't do this. I love you, and I'm sorry. This will never, ever happen again. I love you. You're my life; you and Theo are the only important things to me. I'll never do it again, I swear. I'm so sorry. I can change. I will change. Please, forgive me. You do deserve better, and I'll be better. Please, b.u.t.tercup, please?" His voice was desperate, frightened even. I could hear the vulnerability in his tone as his fingers bit into my arms, holding me in place. His words were always the same after I found out about his cheating. He always promised to change, apologised until he was blue in the face, and gushed how much he loved me. But it wasn't enough, not this time. "I'd be lost without you, you know that. This will never happen again. It's you and me, forever. Just you and me, no one else."