Chronicles of Harkle

“Shall We?” – A Parody

control; shall we

Editor’s Note: Meghan’s thoughts in this story DO NOT reflect my own.

Meghan believed she was dressed to the nines in the red Carolina Herrera dress she had chosen to wear to the Intrepid Salute to Freedom Gala. The night was going to be all about HER and only HER! Plus, it would give her the chance to blow that hideous golden dress Kate had worn out of the ocean. As Harry stood talking to a bunch of people she did not care for, she searched her mind for something to get him to listen. She reached out to him, but he ignored her. She tapped his elbow, “Shall we?” When a reporter called to her to ask if she was proud of her husband, she knew she had a fraction of a second to do something.

“I’m always proud of him,” she said, peering over her shoulder and issuing a smug look. As long as the cameras were on her, she was happy. She would scream at Harry later for defying her.

Ignoring Meghan

Once Harry had finished his conversation, he took her hand and continued down the carpet. Meghan saw his face drop when he caught her ticked-off expression. Part of her was pleased that he knew she’d give him a swift kick. Another part of her deep down in the pit of her unused sanity wished that he still looked at her the way he had looked at Kate when the gold dress photos had surfaced. She mentally shook herself.

Getting to the door, Meghan pulled Harry aside. He looked dazed and one-hundred-percent out of it. It was like he was on drugs. “How dare you?!” she snarled. “Tonight was supposed to be about me showing that… Kate, who the real style icon is! We don’t have time for you to socialise!”

“Shall We… Not?”

Something stirred in Harry as if awakening a dormant side of him. “No,” he said, causing Meghan to react as if he’d slapped her. “Tonight was supposed to be about honouring the fallen soldiers. I was meant to be the only one here tonight, but no. You wanted to show off your latest purchase. Catherine would never have taken the spotlight off William.”

Harry knew this was the wrong thing to say to Meghan, especially to her face, but part of his old self had reemerged, and he couldn’t stop it. He saw the anger rush across his wife’s face. He wanted to smirk and give her a piece of his mind, but he knew better than to upset her. If he tried to stand up to her, it would end in an explosive argument and broken dishes.

Meghan’s fingers curled into fists. How dare he talk back to her?! She was the one in charge, not him! She told him what to do, not the other way around. What’s more, is she wanted to scream and yell, but they were in public, so she took a breath and stomped towards the room with Harry slouching in his walk several steps behind her.

“Shall we?” she called back, hatred in her voice.

I Want To Be Loved Like Kate

A few days passed, and Meghan sat on the balcony, sipping an oat latte. She flashed back to the day she walked into the dress shop. She had seen the reception Catherine’s gold dress had gotten, but Harry’s reaction had really peed her off. His jaw had dropped when he’d seen the photos.

Catherine had rocked the 007 red carpet, and Meghan felt a massive twinge of anger and jealousy. She mocked Harry’s “Oh, wow!” before she stormed from the room. She’d gone into the most forested part of the property and screamed so loudly that it could still be heard from the house. That woman was a nobody! How dare the press shower her in praise! That dress was ugly!

She didn’t return to the house for a half-hour. That was when she had frantically searched the internet for a dress that would blow Catherine’s out of the water.

Meghan hadn’t wanted to be fitted for the dress as it fit her fine. Harry had gone with her, but to her disappointment, he had not responded the way he had with Kate’s. She wanted him to slobber over her like he did when they were in bed together. He seemed so out of it that he could’ve fallen asleep on the spot.

Angry and upset, Meghan had stomped into the dressing room, gotten out of the dress, and into her normal clothes before she’d left the shop in tears.

The Car Ride Home

“Shall we?” Harry had taken Meghan’s hand as he helped her out of the car. They were safely back in the garage.

The ride home had been silent, and Harry knew from firsthand experience that when Meghan got moody, it was better to keep your distance.

Meghan stood in the centre of the space. Harry had left to give her some space. It also saved him from being screamed at. Finally, she broke down. She screamed and cried, muttering multiple times that she wanted to be as loved as Catherine.

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About Author

C.J. Hawkings has written for the now-defunct Entertainment website, Movie Pilot and the still functioning WhatCulture and ScreenRant. She prides herself as a truth seeker and will do (almost) anything for coffee or Coke No Sugar. Oh! And food!

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