The Me You Can't See (H.S)

34

Haven's POV:

I'd left for a week.

Woke up the day after finding out all I did, packed my shit, and went to the next town over. I'd booked a room at a dingy motel after sending Maya a brief text to let her know I would not be at work for the next week and like I expected she didn't object.

I'd spent that past week staring at the wall and blowing through the limited money I had on the room but I couldn't think of something better to spend it on. I just needed to get away, from the restaurant, my apartment, Fleurs, and most importantly Harry.

It took a while to process what I'd seen and even longer for me to get over the anger I felt towards myself.

How did I not notice? How did I not know that he was doing something this wrong? What "that" is, I've yet to figure out but it's only a matter of time until I do.

No matter how much I hate to say it. . .I miss him. I miss them. Somehow, in the short amount of time I've been in England I'd created such a strong bond with all of them and each time, I think about what they held back, my stomach drops.

I thought I could trust them.

Regardless of how hard this past week has been for me, I figured out what I have to do.

Standing in front of the mirror dressed in my work clothes, I'm getting ready to go to work for the first time in 7 days, and like clockwork my phone buzzes.

I don't bother looking down at it, already knowing it's another one of Harry's "I'm sorry" messages that he's sent every day since that night.

I haven't seen anyone since that night and I hate that I'm no longer used to being alone. Yes, I've spent time by myself but the amount of times I've picked up my phone to text Maya or Harry is astronomical. At this point, it's an instinct, and not being able to do so is making the hole in my heart wider and wider.

Grabbing my shit and locking up, I begin the walk to Nympho, my stomach fluttering with nerves the closer I get to the restaurant.

I'm slightly hungover and the mix of multiple nightmares last night made me look like the walking dead. Another reason my heart dropped to my stomach when I put together what was going on that night was that he didn't know who I truly was.

I'm hurt that he lied to me. . .beyond hurt, but it doesn't escape how hypocritical that is on my part...I'm not exactly being completely honest with him either.

But my reasons are different, I've stayed alive and free this long because I've kept that part of myself hidden for so long. As far as I'm concerned, Avery Davis died when I faked my death and became Haven.

But because of my past, I can't help but think what would happen if Harry found out where I truly came from, who I truly am.

Taking a deep breath I enter Nympho, the bell of the door sounding with my arrival. Maya is still at home taking care of Harlow, but Liam is working behind the bar mixing drinks and at the sound, he looks up to find me standing there.

"You're back." he speaks and I smile lightly, nodding my head.

"It appears so." I answer with limited words while I throw my stuff in the back and grab an apron to begin taking orders.

"He's in his office." Liam answers my unanswered questions.

"Which one?" I answer back curtly walking around the bar to the floor of the restaurant. Liam doesn't answer back.

Having yet to see Harry, my shifts drags on as I work silently, talking when I absolutely have to and in silence the rest of the time. The time goes by quickly and before I know it it's a quarter to midnight, the only customers left are our regular drunks who won't leave until we kick them out.