tryst [sequel] // h.s

60

Chapter sixty

Zara

''Congratulations, Zara, you are 10 weeks pregnant.''

No

No, it simply wasn't true.

The minute those words came out of the doctor's mouth something shifted, everything came crumbling back down with a simple and small kick. Again, all I could see was black.

Funny and ironic how that stability I had worked so hard to maintain got taken away by seven words, and so quickly. In a haze, everything was gone and it felt like a game, the game of my life, the one that keeps on bringing me to square one.

The problem is, I can't go back to square one. I can't undo what I have done now and I can't erase it. I can't look over it and pretend everything is fine. I can't ignore it, I can't pretend it's not there.

I can't be worried about myself, because it's not just me.

That level of selfishness I never got to accomplish it's a far distance. I can't think of me, just me. I'm not just by myself, the thought that I've been fighting for so long, the thought of being alone and empty it's gone but the twisted melancholy is frightening even more.

Somehow not being alone is scaring me to death because I can't do this. I can't manage this on my own, I can do this alone.

I'm alone but not completely alone.

Harry should be by my side and look at us now, this isn't how things were supposed to go, this isn't what I had planned, this isn't what I wanted for us.

It's useless to think of what could have been, I can't reverse it.

Perhaps I'm by myself but not alone, definitely not alone now.

My head is a mess of spiraling thoughts, it's been since I arrived back in London and I can't seem to get out of the mindset. I want to disappear, make it go away but I can't.

It's not gonna go away, I can't make it go away.

Am I cruel for calling it ''it''? I'm definitely not ready to make such a move but I have no other choice this time.

This is bad.

I can't seem to manage that little voice in my head, telling me what I already know and torturing me with an overload of what already worries me. I'm my biggest enemy and we know that but all I can hear is sending me into a darker side I have yet to explore.

You might see me calm and collected, even silent but in my head, there's an entire circus show with a few hundred different acts trying to take over the stage, and each of them failing at impressing the crowd because they all have a flaw.

That's how anxiety works. Mind racing at a two hundred kilometers speed with the impossibility of concentrating on a simple task because that task becomes ten and each of them turn into ten again.

I've struggled to get words out but my mind hasn't shut up ever since.

I have a million questions without an answer, and the answers I manage to get aren't the right ones. I'm wrong, I can never win and I feel helpless.

Lonely but not alone.

What am I going to do?

How am I going to do this?

Why do I have to do this?

I believe the fear of doing this alone is the more haunting one. Then my good side butts in and says ''but you are not alone, not anymore'' and I want to focus on that but I can't. I'm in a dark alley with no way out.