Into The Fire [H.S.]

53

Trigger Warning:

Another intense chapter.

Please read carefully.

I sold the condo.

I couldn't...

I can't.

It's too much.

Everything is too much.

I still don't get what happened.

I have so many questions.

So many unanswered mysteries.

I'm working on dealing with the anger.

It's better than the numbness.

But it sucks being angry at someone you can't fucking hit.

The essence of Harry is stored in boxes in the new house.

I got rid of all the furniture.

Because black and dark and angry only make me think of him.

And I don't want to hate him.

I'm trying not to hate him.

I bought new circular furniture. In beige and tan. Because it's soft, and peaceful and it has no corners.

Safer for the baby.

I tell her about him everyday.

It's still hard to get out of bed.

It's hard to go to work.

It's hard to do anything.

I couldn't stay in Chicago.

I couldn't go to London.

He was everywhere.

I needed somewhere new.

Somewhere I'd never been with him.

I told Niall and Javi to rebuild the club. Invested the money for it.

Told them to give Bae the club manager job.

She deserved it.

But I couldn't stay.

Not to watch the construction.

Not to oversee anything.

I was now a silent partner.

I had to step back.

To collect myself.

To center myself.

So I paid movers to pack everything up.

I sold everything I couldn't look at without wanting to hurl it out of a window.