A.

"I'd like to talk," he pressed, and I frowned.

"I don't understand why you would want to talk to me," I said honestly. His actions had nothing to do with me, the only effect being the pain it had caused Harry, Celia, and Gemma.

"Well, you're dating my son, I presume?" he asked again, and I sighed.

"Yes, but I'm not involved with this," I chewed on my lip, "it's none of my business - or yours, for that matter."

"Oh, come on," he groaned, while all I did was raise my eyebrows, "so my son and I had a little tiff when he was younger - he needs to get over it."

"Are you kidding?" I scoffed, "A 'tiff'? He endured years of abuse from you. You can't really expect him to welcome you back with open arms - you were a monster to him," I blurted out before I knew what I was saying, mentally slapping a hand over my mouth, figuring I shouldn't have even said that - the expression on Ken's face confirming that.

"So you've made it your business," he gave me a look that usually would intimidate me - but now, it only fuelled my anger, "You're a clever girl, aren't you..?" he trailed off.

"Ana."

"Ana," he spoke, his accent thick as his gaze hardened a little, "if you truly have Harry's best interest in mind - you'll sit down and chat to me for a minute. I wouldn't do this if it weren't important."

I blew out a long exhale, nervously shifting from foot to foot. I knew if Harry were here he'd be literally dragging me away, but somehow my head began to form a nod, and I followed Ken over to a small roundtable with two chairs outside of the coffee shop. I sat down opposite him, shoving the two empty cups from the coffee I'd dropped into the trashcan beside the table.

"I only have a couple of minutes," I told him, fumbling with the charm bracelet on my wrist in search of some comfort which I simply couldn't seem to find. His eyes held the same piercing gaze as Harry's did, but his was cold, brutal - cruel. And all I could see when I looked into them was a young Harry, beaten and tossed around by the man who possessed them.

"That's all I need," he nodded, before asking, "How long have you been with my son?"

"Does it matter?"

His eyes flickered to the bracelet I fiddled with between my fingers, "Haz get you that?"

My eyes narrowed, "you ask an awful lot of questions," I snapped.

"Right, right," he raised his hands, "I'm sorry," all I did was scoff bitterly when he continued, "I'm sorry about a lot of things."

"The fact you believe the abuse you made your family endure for so many years can be classed as a 'tiff' proves that you're really not sorry at all."

Ken pursed his lips, "You're not being very open-minded, here."

"I don't have to be. I know who you are, and that's enough for me."

"I had a lot of problems when Haz was growing up," he dismissed it, "but I'm far better now. I didn't come back for nothing, you know."

"Then why did you come back?"

"To tell the truth," he hissed, "everybody thinks I'm so bad, but I'm here to tell the truth. Haz would never listen to me, but I know he'd listen to you."

"What 'truth'?" I grew more frustrated, shaking my head, "I'm not gonna be a stupid little messenger for you - you're disgusting, and you don't deserve H to listen to a thing you say. You ruined his life."

"Harry has a brother," he blurted out suddenly, and my jaw dropped. A brother?

"What did you just say?" I asked in disbelief.

"A brother," Ken repeated, and I physically had to close my jaw, "It's complicated.."

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"I'm not, Ana. His name is Mason, he-"

"Oh my God," I groaned, burying my head into my hands, "how the fuck does he have a brother that he doesn't know about?"

"He's a little older than Gem and Haz.. born in '88.." he sighed, "I didn't want the baby, and while Celia was recovering after the birth.. I was sleeping with the nurse, and so I bribed her to tell Celia the baby was dead. The nurse then took him, and gave him to a family I didn't care to know about."

"Fucking hell," I groaned again, shaking my head, "no, this can't be true."

"It is."

"You're sick," I spat, standing up from the table, "you let Celia think her baby was dead? Dead? You're despicable," I shoved my chair away, "I hope you rot in hell, you sick bastard," was all I could spit as I stalked away down the street, my breath heavy.

Celia had another son before Gemma was born. I knew Harry didn't know that, and I was sure Gemma didn't either. Celia had a son, and had to experience his death - I couldn't imagine the dismay, and the heartbreak she'd had to endure - but for her son to be alive? For her (ex) husband to have lied to her in that way, for over 25 years? That was disgusting, and though I knew it wasn't my place, I found myself trudging up the steps to Ben's house and knocking on the door.

"Ana?" Celia swung the door open with a bright smile on her face, "have you come to say goodbye - oh, where's Harry?" she frowned.

"Celia," I bit my lip, "I'm really sorry to do this, but I need to talk to you about something."

"Oh, is everything alright, pet?" she was suddenly concerned, "come in - we'll talk in the garden."

I nodded, following her through the house and into the backyard, suddenly contemplating on whether this was the right thing to do - but it was too late as I sat back into a garden chair beside Celia.

"Tell me what's wrong, darling," she coaxed, "did something happen with Harry? I'm sure he-"

"No, H didn't do anything," I shook my head, "um - Celia, did you have a child before you had Gemma and Harry?" I decided not to beat around the bush, laying it all on the table.

Her eyes widened, as she looked at me, "Who told you that?"

"Did you?" I pressed gently, and she exhaled deeply, shaking her head.

"Ana," she said quietly, "I did have a son, yes - but I lost him during the birth."

My lip shook as I saw the look in her eyes; the clear pain, and upset caused by the memory, "He's not dead, Celia," I whispered, and she frowned.

"Don't be silly, Ana - he's most definitely gone.." she trailed off, "who told you that?"

"Ken did," I said apprehensively, now hoping it wasn't a lie I was spreading, "he told me his name is Mason, and Ken got the nurse to lie because he was sleeping with her and-"

"Slow down, pet," Celia cut me off, taking a slow inhale and exhale, before tears started to well in her eyes, "just, um.. leave this to me, okay? Don't mention this to Harry, please - I'll let you know when I know more," she said hesitantly.

"You don't want me to tell Harry?"

"No, Ana, darling - you can't. Not until I know for sure, and you know how he'll react, I'm - um.. just go back to the flat, and leave this with me."

I bit my lip, frowning skeptically, "Are you sure? I don't think-"

"I'll see you when you stop by before your flight, Ana, okay?" she more or less pushed me up and into the house.

"Are you sure you're okay, Celia?" I frowned again as I headed for the front door, her reaction not even close to what I'd expected.

"I'm fine, Anastasia - I promise you. It's most likely Ken was lying for attention, anyway, I - um.. I'll see you later."

And then the front door was closed behind me. I sighed, setting off back to the flat. Though Celia's reaction was far from ordinary, I wasn't sure what would be ordinary - a secret she'd been keeping for years had been let out of the bag by her abusive ex-husband, only for her to find out the secret she'd been keeping was a lie. I understood why she wanted me to keep it from Harry, but I wasn't sure how I felt about it. I didn't like the idea of keeping something from Harry, and all I could hope was that it didn't blow up in my face, but - at the end of the day it wasn't my secret to tell, and I wasn't prepared to upset Celia even further in saying things I shouldn't - especially if there was a chance Ken was lying.

"Ana Grace?" the familiar voice sounded through the flat as I pushed the door open, Harry wandering sleepily into the kitchen, clearly having only just woken up from his slumber.

"Hey," I shot him a weak smile, as a puzzled look was shot in my direction as Harry pulled me into a tired hug.

"Where were you?" he frowned, "I woke up and you were gone."

I chewed on my lip - this would've been the perfect opportunity to tell Harry the truth; to keep our relationship out of the family messes, and to keep the trust between us. But I couldn't bring myself to throw my promise to Celia down the drain, and when I thought about the pain his father had already caused him - I couldn't do it.

"I went for a walk; looked around the town a bit," I lied, "did you finish packing?" I asked brightly in attempts to change the subject.

"Ana, what happened?" he asked skeptically, reading me so easily, as I desperately forced a smile onto my face, "you're acting weird."

"I'm not," I said a little too defensively, "I promise - I'm fine, baby. Just tired."

"You're lying, Ana Grace," he sighed, running his hands through his hair, "I'm not stupid, I know you better than that."

"H, please just drop it. I'm fine, I promise," I lied through my teeth, and though his eyes gave away the fact he knew it was complete bullshit, he nodded his head slowly, turning to head back into the bedroom.

I was lying to him. I was lying to the man I loved and I knew it, and so did he. He knew I was lying, but I knew he wouldn't push it. And though I desperately wanted to tell him - I couldn't, and I wouldn't.

All I could hope was that it wouldn't break him - or that it wouldn't break us.