Capture

Fresh Start

I crossed the hallway and unlocked my door opening and closing it quickly behind me.

She means nothing, Louis.

The words clung to me like the scent of his skin—heavy, inescapable. My legs felt numb as I sank down against the front door to sit on the floor. I hung my head and the numbness had calcified into something worse, shame, guilt, but most of all—grief.

Eventually I stripped down and stepped into the shower, letting the water scald my skin. I wanted to burn him off of me, every trace, every touch, every whispered lie.

My head hit the cool tile wall as I let the water run. You knew what this was. You knew it would end like this. And still, I had let Liam open the door. I'd walked in. I'd let him touch me like I was the only thing that had ever mattered to him and I had wanted it. God, I had wanted it, but I had also known it was a mistake.

What crushed me wasn't just that Liam had said I meant nothing. It was that a part of me still wanted to mean something to him. That part of you is done now, I told myself because there was someone else. Someone waiting. Someone who didn't make me question my worth or manipulate my feelings into knots.

Harry.

Sweet, steady Harry, who made me laugh when I didn't want to. Who looked at me like I was something whole. He hadn't asked for my past, and I wasn't going to volunteer it. We weren't exclusive—not officially—and I didn't owe him my sexual history. Not technically.

But I owed him something. I owed him the version of me that was all in and Liam—whatever we were—was over. The door was closed, slammed shut, never to be opened again.

I stepped out of the shower, wrapped myself in a towel, and stared at my reflection. My eyes were tired. My body ached. But there was resolve too. Buried under the bruises.

This—Harry, Seattle, the wedding, moving forward—this was my fresh start. I was going to take it. Even if a part of me still stung. Even if Liam's voice whispered in the back of my mind. Even if I wasn't sure I deserved this clean slate—I was taking it anyway because if I was ever going to be whole again, I had to stop bleeding for people who didn't know how to stop hurting me.

Harry might not know what happened, but I knew, and that was enough. I was choosing the person who showed up for me. I was choosing light. Calm. Steady. I was choosing Harry and for the first time in a long time... I wanted to be chosen back.

My flight to Seattle was later tonight, and I had the day off today, but when I picked up my phone, I noticed a missed call from Harry.

"Hey," his voice crackled through the speaker as I checked my voicemail. "I swung by your place last night, but I think you were out. Just wanted to say I can't wait to head west with you."

I clicked off the message and typed out a reply. Sorry I missed you last night. Come by tonight, we can do dinner if you want.

I tossed down my phone again and got busy packing for the flight. The hours ticked away and I'd finally just zippered by bag closed with I heard a knock at the door. When I opened it, Harry stood there, grinning and holding up two pizza boxes like a peace offering.

"Oh my God, yes," I sighed, inhaling the scent.

"I know. And I brought pizza too," he teased and I laughed, letting him in. Without thinking, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him. It was easy, natural, like I'd been doing it for years. In that moment, I almost believed he was mine.

"I needed that," he murmured, holding me close.

"Me too," I whispered, kissing him again. I was trying to force Liam out of my mind, and Harry—steady, safe, good—was helping.

At the airport, Harry and I moved through crowds like a quiet, effortless team. We found our seats. Or, we tried to.

"23B," Harry said.

"19F," I replied.

When I reached my seat, an older man looked up at me. Before I could say anything, Harry stepped in.

"Excuse me, sir. I just met this beautiful girl in the lobby, and I'm trying to impress her. Only I'm not sitting next to her—you are. Any chance I could convince you to switch?"

The man chuckled, gave us both a once-over, and sighed. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood. I hope she's into you. Otherwise, it'll be a long flight."

Harry slid in beside me, smug as ever. "Window or aisle?"

"Aisle. Give those legs some room to breathe," I teased.

He smiled. I smiled back and still, the words festered. She means nothing.

I kissed him to silence the noise. Soft. Sweet. Uncomplicated. Harry responded with warmth I didn't deserve.

As I curled into his shoulder, I whispered, "See you in the morning, Styles."

He adjusted his body to make a better pillow and my thoughts were with still with Liam. The one who'd said I meant nothing. The one whose mouth I couldn't forget even when I was sitting beside a man who would never say something so cruel.

"Emma?" The voice was gentle, pulling me from sleep. My mind fuzzily registered the sensation of arms around me, chest beneath my cheek.

"Liam?" I murmured, but when I opened my eyes, it wasn't Liam holding me. It was Harry.

"We landed," he said softly. "You're home."

Golden morning light poured in through the plane window, casting long shadows over the tarmac. "I slept the whole flight?"

Harry nodded. "You talk in your sleep."

"Oh god. What did I say?" Panic surging through me.

"That I'm amazing. Obviously." I rolled my eyes as we stepped off the plane and into the terminal before heading down to baggage claim.

"My dad said he'd pick me up... but I don't see him."

"What's he look like?"

I started to describe him but froze. Two familiar faces were striding toward us. "Oh no."

"What?" Harry frowned watching me.

I pointed. "Those are my brothers. My very protective brothers. Who I did not tell I was bringing you."

Harry grinned. "Relax. I'm great with brothers. Almost as good as I am with mothers."

"EMMA!" Nate and Rick bellowed, crushing me in a bear hug while Harry watched with amusement.

When they finally let me breathe, I gestured. "Guys, this is Harry. My... uh..."

"Neighbor," Harry filled in, offering his hand.

Rick's shake was too firm. Nate's eyes narrowed. "We didn't know Em was bringing a date," Rick said flatly.

"Okay, enough. Let's get breakfast before you two start interrogating him," I cut in, linking my arm with Harry's.

We ended up at a local IHOP, laughing and catching up over pancakes and way too much coffee. Rick grilled Harry—about his job, his intentions, probably his shoe size—but Harry handled it with his usual charm.

Later, we drove to my childhood home, the sun casting golden streaks through the evergreens. The neighborhood looked the same, Harry was looking out the window in awe. "You lived here?"

"All my life," I told him as we pulled into the driveway.