Princess in Training (Prince Harry #3)

Chapter Sixty-Five

"Mere?" Harry groaned, feeling the bed move uneasily. "Mere?" He opened his eyes and looked to his wife, who moved violently on the bed. "Mere." He immediately grabbed her, feeling if she was having a seizure. Her movements were too inconsistent for that. "Mere!" He slowly started to shake her awake, but none of his movement helped her. Hers were stronger. "Meredith!" Harry hovered over her, gripping her tightly. His face was so close to her that he felt her hot breath. "Meredith! Wake up now!"

Her eyes snapped open with a violent jolt of her body. For a second, her eyes didn't focus. It was here and there, with large pupils trying to take everything in. Her eyes never rested on Harry, just glancing at the ceiling and then at the floor. Her hands ran over the bed.

"Mere." Harry was out of breath, and he didn't push his luck. "Mere?"

Slowly, her dark green eyes, like a forest, came to focus on his blue eyes, like an ocean. Her face changed, and she took in a deep breath. A tear seeped from the corner of her eye. He still held onto her, but his fingers had loosened. It was all she needed.

Meredith pulled away from him, flying off the bed. When she landed on the floor, opposite of him, she stared down. Harry didn't move a muscle besides watching her. Meredith slowly began to stand, and her knees quaked. Her whole body trembled. Harry watched as her hands shook, and she put those shaking hands to her face. Sobs escaped her lips.

"Meredith." Harry stepped forward.

It was too far.

Sprinting into the bathroom, Meredith slammed the door behind her, and she hopped into the bathtub. If water threatened to get her, it was from her own tears. They splashed everywhere, drenching her shirt and running into the tub. The tub was cold and white, like the rest of the house. Even with the open windows, a cold breeze came off the ocean. Her body shook, like a personal earthquake. Her sobs filled the bathroom, echoing and echoing.

Meredith ran her nails across her skin, feeling too hot for a second. Her chest and head were ready to explode. Her eyes burned, like her lungs did. Loud bubbles of coughs came up as her lungs tried to reach for more air. Nothing came. Nausea washed through her. Dizziness already claimed her head.

A knock came to the door. Meredith jumped.

"Mere, I'm coming in." Harry came in slowly, and light came into the bathroom. He had turned on lamps in, and Meredith looked away.

"Shut the door. Shut the door," she said. A migraine, great and powerful, already came on. There was too much light. Meredith shifted in the bathroom. There was too much sound.

Harry did as she told, and he closed the door behind him. He didn't say anything, and Meredith jumped at every footstep. It was too loud.

She closed her eyes, water still leaking out, and she put her head to her knees. Harry waited as she took deep breaths.

"What's happening to me?" she asked.

"You're having a panic attack." Harry's voice was clear. His own eyes were wet, not wanting to see Meredith like this. It made his own heart ache. It made his own body feel the pain. Harry knew panic attacks well, having gotten them since a child, but Meredith didn't receive them many times. The last one he recalled when she was back at university after the paparazzi found her.

The honeymoon was supposed to be happy and long, meant to get away from the pressures of London, but even out here, they caused Meredith panic. At least in London, there was confidence. Out here, it was like she was vulnerable. Harry guessed it was hard for Meredith to just go back to normal-- but it was only a guess.

"Mere." Slowly he stepped into the bathtub. "I'm right here, okay? I'm right here." He didn't ask anything as he sat down. He didn't even touch her.

Her head was pressed against her knees. She refused to look at him. Her head continued to pound, making the whole room spin. Gently, Meredith reached her hand out, and Harry took it. Meredith shook her head, trying to clear her own breathing. Her bones ached. Her lungs burned. Her joints felt ready to crack. Her skin was ready to crumble.

Breathing becoming more regular, Meredith looked at her husband, and her breathing became ragged again. She put her head down. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"No, Mere, it's okay." His thumb ran over the back of her hand. "You have no reason to be sorry. It's okay." A hollow pain exploded in his chest after Meredith couldn't look at him. His mind raced for reasons, and none of them had to be right. He thought, perhaps, him scaring her today in the water caused more damage than he knew-- probably more than Meredith knew.

When her eyes came up, they were bloodshot and ready to pop out. The green irises looked tiny. Her face was red and bloated. Tears increased as she saw Harry, but she refused to look away from him. She sniffled, yet snot oozed from her nostrils.

Harry forced him to take a few deep breaths. "Mere, I'm not going to make you tell me, but I would like if you told me."

Meredith swallowed. "I had a nightmare." She told him the truth because he deserved it. Also, Meredith wasn't good at secrets. They came from her mouth with ease. She was never good at keeping things in. "And the nightmare," her voice cracked, "you died."

Harry went cold. "Mere, I'm not dead. I'm right here."

"I killed you, Harry. I didn't meant to-- I didn't want to. But it's Jack Campbell-- and then it was you. I didn't-- didn't mean." She put her head on her knees again.

"I know, Mere. I know." Harry still thought about Jack Campbell and how he continued to haunt Meredith. "What else?"

"It was...." She took a deep breath, trying to regain all of her thoughts. "There was water, everywhere, and paparazzi showed up. They kept calling me whore and...." Meredith wiped tears from her face with the back of her hand. "Jack Campbell showed up."

"What did he want?"

"He wanted to fuck with me, but it's just my mind. Jack Campbell scares me, and my mind wants me to be scared. My mind wants to hurt me."

"Why?"

"Because I'm happy, Harry, I'm so happy," she insisted, looking deep into his eyes. "I'm so happy, and I love you so much. But when things get happy, I'm used to shit happening. But now I'm supposed to be happy, like all the time?"

Harry swallowed. "You said you killed me?"

"I didn't mean--"

"I know. What happened, Mere?"

"There was water everywhere, and Jack Campbell was coming after me. We were flooded, and I found a knife. And I thought I was stabbing him, and then it was you. I'm sorry, Harry. I'm sorry."

"No, Mere. No." Harry watched his wife as she began to tremble again, thinking about what just happened. "Mere, what happened next?"

She took a deep breath. "We were talking, and then we weren't. I was in the ocean, alone. It was peaceful. I was all alone in the ocean, floating by myself."

Harry bit his bottom lip. "Mere, you were slashing around when I woke you up. You were freaking out. Why?"

"I was in the water. It was peaceful, and then there was a plane. And it crashed into the water; I was drowning again." Tears sprung up in her eye, and she began to cry again.

"Mere." Crawling over in the bathtub, Harry settled beside her, wrapping his arms around her. Her skin was on fire, and slowly Harry dipped her back onto the cold white tile of the bathtub. She curled into him. Harry kissed the top of her head. Her tears drenched his shirt, but he didn't mind. He was just happy to have her close.