George was still sat on the steps of their bungalow when Connie and the her group returned to the compound from the rather successful shopping trip, except he had been joined by Ringo, and so as the other women all headed back to their own bungalows, she went straight to her's. The odd feeling of lonliness she'd felt before leaving for the trip had disappeared quickly once she was in the company of the girls, leaving her hoping that maybe it had all been in her head, and that any worries she had for her marriage were stupid and irrational.

As she approached the two men sat on the bungalow porch, her footsteps caught their attention. George looked away from his guitar, a grin still on his face at a joke Ringo must have made, his gaze falling onto his wife who since the last time he'd seen her had changed into traditional Indian clothing, wearing a short white blouse and a pair of loose white trousers, a green sari draped over the top. She'd worn Indian styles the last time she'd visited the country with George, and during this visit to the Maharishi's ashram it was mandatory for them all to wear native clothes. It was meant to help them integrate into the culture of transcendental meditation but George had almost forgotten how much the traditional styles suited Connie, who had also tied her hair back into a braid, his favourite style on her. He sat staring at her for a moment, something Ringo noticed as he let out a laugh, shaking his head at how George had suddenly become speechless just at the sight of his wife.

"Y'know she is your wife, you don't have to just stare at her," Ringo muttered to George as he elbowed him in the side, holding back another laugh as Connie approached them both.

"Alright, lads?" she greeted, going to George's side as she took a seat next to him on the steps, putting her hand on his knee as he set his guitar aside, until she noticed the look on her husband's face. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing, just thought you looked nice, that's all," George answered casually, knowing that if his best friend wasn't sat with them he'd not be able to stop himself from kissing her he thought she looked that beautiful.

"Thank you, dear," she replied with a wink.

Connie felt like an old woman as she called him 'dear', like the little old ladies she used to see on the bus in Liverpool as a kid, the ones who'd refer to their husbands as nothing but dear. The strong matriarchal figures she'd grown up seeing everyday around town were always figures of inspiration to her in a strange way. A lot of them had survived two world wars, had raised families and gone to work to make ends meet. They were strong women who reminded her of what her own mother may have ended up becoming, and her respect for them often extended to her and Paul doing them jobs like fetching their shopping. It was an odd feeling she got whenever they'd go to see them, as if the lives they had were impossible. It seemed impossible to the fourteen year old Connie that one day she might be in a position liked that, with her own home, with a family, with a husband.

As a teenager, Connie used to look at those old women and think of the long lives they'd lived, when in reality, they probably weren't even that old. To a fourteen year old anyone looked old, but now she was approaching twenty six, she realised maybe life wasn't always what she thought it was going to be when she was a kid. She could remember looking at the women and thinking that surely she'd never get like them, with their husbands and their families, and someway along the line she'd started to want a life like theirs. She had her husband, the love of her life, and they had their careers and their success, now she was just left envying the family part.

Connie felt the way her mind was going and quickly snapped herself away from her thoughts. Not now, she told herself, she wasn't going to let her mind be led down the path of sadness just because a bunch of little old Liverpudlian ladies had a family and she didn't. Instead, she forced a grin, wrapping her arm around George's shoulder, using him as the perfect distraction from it all, turning her focus onto their best friend still sat beside them.

"So, Rings, what do you think to India?" she asked, laughing as Ringo shrugged.

"Only been here a day, Con," he told her casually, his mind still not made up. "Its a pretty place, but this compound's like a bloody spiritual Butlins,"

"Taking you back to the glory days then?" she joked, remembering his drumming career before he joined the Beatles.

"Back to when you were in a decent band," George chipped in teasingly.

"Speaking of Rory and his Hurricanes, d'you ever find out what happened between him and Florence?" Ringo asked, glancing between Connie and the bungalow belonging to her childhood best friend. "Eight years they'd been together and they just broke up, just like that?"

"I haven't asked her yet, she was in a bit of a state when she showed up at ours and I don't wanna bring it up and upset her, plus it's not like I'm the most experienced at offering relationship advice," Connie told them quietly, her eyebrows creased together ever so slightly until she saw the frown on George's face, making her roll her eyes. "Gee, I spent nearly ten years silently having a crush on you because I didn't know how to talk about my feelings."

"Not to mention you went on a date with another lad," Ringo pointed out, to which both of the Harrison's shot him a sarcastic scowl. "Just stating facts."

"Well, whatever, I think it's pretty obvious that talking about relationships is not my area of expertise," Connie shrugged. "But I'll talk to her at some point. Maybe the whole spiritual vibe of meditation will help her get over it and want to talk about it."

In truth, as much as Connie did want to help her friend, thinking about break ups wasn't something she really wanted to do. She hated the very thought of a relationship ending, especially Florence and Rory's. They'd been together way longer than Connie and George, and even thinking about other couples breaking up set off an irrational fear within her. It was something that she knew she didn't need to worry about, because she knew she loved George, but that knowledge didn't seem to matter anymore. What if he decided her didn't love her anymore, or what if they let so much become unspoken between them that it eventually drove them apart? Considering her friend's break up was no good for her own spiralling emotions.

"Right, I better go see Maureen, I'll see you too later," Ringo said, getting up from the step, and with a small wave goodbye to the Harrison's, he left in the direction of his own bungalow.

"See ya'," George called, and as soon as their friend was gone, he turned to Connie, pushing a kiss to her cheek. "I forgot how great you looked in these sorts of clothes,"

"I thought I looked fab whatever I wore?" she teased, referencing one of the last things he'd said to her before she'd left to go shopping. "Thank you though. What's up with Ringo then?"

"Nothing, he was just telling me about the suitcase full of beans he brought," George shrugged, flashing a smile to his wife as she laughed. "Did you get me anything?"

"Yeah I picked you up a couple of bits," she told him, gesturing to the totebag at her feet, full of extra saris for herself as well as shirts for George. She got up from the step, offering her hand to George, pulling him up too. "Come on, I'll show you,"

With that, George picked up the tote bag and the couple headed inside their bungalow. It was much smaller than the one they lived in in England, but that didn't matter to either of them. The grandeur of their life in England was something they were trying to escape on their journey of self-discovery, but the one thing neither of them wanted to escape was each other. As long as they had each other the rest didn't matter, and so as soon as they were in the tiny bedroom George threw the bag onto the floor and moved to grab Connie's waist, pulling her close to place a kiss on her lips.

The way her shirt was cropped meant George's hands were resting on the bare flesh of her waist, and just feeling him touch her sent an electric shock across her body. It was strange that after so long together he could still thrill her like that, and it was almost odd that her body reacted to him like that given her worries over their relationship. It clearly didn't matter what she thought about the state of her marriage, because all it took was for George to kiss her and put his hands on her, and she felt like the drunk twenty year old kissing him for the first time all over again.

There was always so much unspoken between them, from the very first time they slept together, using the excuse of them being drunk to hide behind, preventing either of them having to say how they really felt. It was the same the time after, two years later when they reunited after the Beatles' concert, and the fact that there was that magnetic physical appeal between the two of them solved the problems the two-year separation had created. The magnetism between the two of them hadn't faded, that was for sure, which was something Connie was grateful for. She still loved him, and she still wanted him, and in moments like those where George grabbed her to kiss her, she felt like he still wanted her too.

Their kiss deepened, passion between the two of them building as George bit down onto Connie's lip with his sharp canines. She had her hands knotted into his hair, much longer now than it was when they first began courting, letting out a low moan of pleasure, happy to just feel close to him. She wasn't quite sure when he had unwrapped the sari from around her, tossing it to the side as he threw her down onto the bed, but there they were, Connie pinned down under George's weight as he lent over her, his lips still attached to hers. It was only when she felt his hands move down from her waist, his fingers attempting to pull down the waistband of her trousers that she came down from the euphoric high, coming to her senses as she pulled her hands out of his hair, instead placing them onto his chest as she pushed him away gently.

"George..." she breathed out, separating her lips from his as she tried to catch her breath, trying to get his attention as he remained fixated on her. "Georgie, stop, please stop,"

Upon hearing her, he immediately moved his hands away from her, rolling off her as he moved into a sitting position at her side, biting his lip nervously as he rubbed his hands across his forehead. Connie, however, remained laid down, closing her eyes as she took in a few deep breaths, knowing George was watching her carefully, trying to read her to see where her head was at. She'd be surprised if he reached any conclusions, considering even she didn't know what was going on.

She had really been enjoying that kiss, and she usually loved the direction kisses like that went in. She loved being physical with him, but there was something inside of her that just didn't feel right doing anything with him, not in that moment anyway. She knew exactly why she felt like that, the cause of her unwillingness to be intimate also being the reason behind the anxiety she'd felt on the plane the day before. Part of her hated it, because sometimes she felt normal, like nothing had happened, and the moments when George wanted her really made her feel as if everything was fine, until something inside of her screamed out that it was all wrong.

Connie kept her eyes closed as she tried to process her thoughts until she felt the weight next to her on the bed shift, and she opened her eyes to see George laid on his back next to her, staring up at the ceiling with a blank expression. It was as if he was trying to meditate with his eyes open, trying to turn his mind away from what had just happened as he tried to forget everything because surely he felt the same pain as her. Scared that he would be blaming himself for taking things too quickly, she sighed, rolling onto her side to look at him properly, reaching her hand out to take his. Intertwining her fingers with his, she squeezed his hand, feeling him squeeze hers three times back. It was his unspoken way of saying I love you, and she felt an ache in her chest as she looked at him, knowing that despite everything, she loved him too.

"Sorry," he muttered after a moment of silence.

"You don't have to apologise," she shook her head sadly.

"It's been a while, I just thought... We haven't done anything since... Shit, I can't even remember," George began to explain, looking over at his wife, his forehead creased as he tried to remember the last time they'd made love.

"New Years Eve, we ditched Ringo's party early cause we were both pissed," Connie reminded him, sitting up, hugging her legs to her chest, resting her chin onto her knees. "It's just hard, y'know? I keep thinking maybe if we had been doing stuff these last few months maybe we'd've gotten somewhere, but anytime I think about it, I..."

"Con, we don't have to do anything until you feel ready," he told her firmly, sitting up to lean over and push a gentle kiss onto her forehead, taking hold of her arms as he moved to embrace her. "And when you are ready, it'll happen. Alright?"

This was the most either of them had spoken about it in months, and it felt like a weight had been lifted off both of them. Connie let out another sigh, moving her position so George could hug her properly. She buried her face into his chest, taking in a deep breath so she could savour his smell as he stroked her hair. There was still so much she wanted to say to him, so many worries swimming about her mind, but in that moment she really didn't want to talk, and she could tell he didn't either. She just wanted to be held by him and know that he was there.

"I love you," she whispered into his chest, so quiet she didn't know if he'd heard her at first.

"I know, I love you, too," he said back, and in that one little statement she felt all of her worries fade away, at least for the time being.

***

Word count: 2567

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Authors note:
Hey guys! Thank you all so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this part.
So I realise that a lot of these first few parts are quite sad/emotionally-driven given how Connie keeps over analysing everything, as well as what she and George were talking about at the end. I will reveal what's going on with them properly in the next India/1968 chapter but I just wanted to take this opportunity to tell you guys that it won't be bleak forever (all things must pass) and a happy ending is on the horizon, it's just a bumpy path to get to the horizon. Please stick with me on this, I promise it'll be worth it!
I hope you all decide to stick with this, please let me know what you think because I really appreciate feedback, and if you have any ideas for the flashback chapters let me know, I'm all ears!
~Olivia