Love Amongst A War ↦ H.S a.u [FINISHED]

*Chapter Nineteen- Avoid

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'Melony's POV'

My cab driver was very polite. He even offered to listen to my problems, which I found weird because in New York City, the cab drivers want absolutely nothing to do with you. I did talk to my driver, who's name was Greg, but I didn't go into much details. He didn't need to know everything that had just crumpled me down into a pile of frail dust.

"Well, I'm over here with my..." What even is Harry to me? He hasn't even declared what we are, and it's frustrating. "My Harry, I guess, but his mother appears to rather see me dead than alive."

That literally about sums up all of my problems, and I'm content with the spilled information.

It wasn't giving too much away, but it gave enough away for him to know exactly what was wrong. I watched as his aging face scrunched up as he absorbed my words. He began to nod slowly, as if in deep thought. I noticed the buildings growing higher into the sky, signalling we were getting closer to the city of London.

"I see so many people with this problem." He says quietly and I turn away from the window, the weather as gloomy as I'm beginning to feel, or have felt. "It's a shame. Whoever this Harry character is, he should step up a little."

I shrug as Greg's words swim around my mind. Maybe Harry has tried to step up, but I've just shot him down. I'm pretty sure that's happened a lot. He must be sick of it all by now. I mean, I have basically destroyed his life after all.

"I don't think it's all his fault." I declare, watching out the window as Greg's brown eyes stare at me in the mirror. "If I was a better person, it would be easier between the both of us."

"Even so, if he cares, miss, he'll accept it all. All the good--all the bad, and everything else in between."

I feel his words seep into my mind. All the good, all the bad, and everything in between. Everything in between, do I even have a between? He pulls me out of my thoughts too soon as we pull up in front of my hotel.

"Thank you, Greg." I pull out my wallet and frown as I remember I only have U.S dollars with me. "Is this okay? I'm sorry, I haven't had time to get any pounds yet."

"It's okay." He chuckles as he watches me dig around in my wallet.

His eyes bulge when I pull out a one-hundred dollar bill and shove it towards him. He takes it slowly from me, his eyes watching me carefully. His eyes are like open books, he's curious and skeptical. He grips the bill in his hand before climbing out of the cab, I follow him towards the boot.

"You don't need to give me this." He finally says, holding the bill back out towards me, it flutters in the quick, brisk air.

"Nonsense, you need it more than I do." I give him a small smile, politely pushing his hand away. "Goodbye, Greg."

Without another word, I pick up my bags and walk in to my hotel. The Dorchester was massive, and extremely well decorated, as well as placed in a very beautiful place. I marched up to the reservations counter with my bags in tow and waited for someone to service me. Flashbacks of the last time I was in a hotel blind me for a second and I flinch, jumping slightly when a man calls for my attention.

"Oh, I called awhile ago. My last name's Frank."

I watch as his thick fingers type quickly across the black keys of his keyboard. The gold band shimmering on his left ring finger catches my attention, and for once it doesn't pierce my heart like it usually would. I smile slightly, grateful for attending those therapy sessions that have obviously started working.