The state I'm in COMPLETED

Worry

"Don't worry about it, Harry," I said, watching his face tighten with frustration.

"They're such fucking assholes!" he spat, raking a hand through his curls. "They just want to ruin everything, you know that?"

"Then don't let them," I answered, much calmer than I should have been. But at this point, I was used to their little games.

"Maybe it's time to call the police, Valerie," Mr. Styles suggested, his face drawn with concern.

"This can't go on forever," he added with a sigh.

"No," I shook my head. "They'll just take it out on Harry, and I don't want that. Besides, Helena's husband would probably cover the whole thing up. They'd make it look like we were the ones causing trouble."

Harry's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. "I swear, I am so going to kick some ass—" He reached for his keys, but I was quicker.

"You will do no such thing, Harry," his father warned, his voice sharp. "This is exactly what they want—to provoke you, to make you reckless. You need to think strategically. You could use this to get custody of your son. We should seek legal advice."

"Your father is right, Harry," I added, stepping closer. "Please, calm down and do what's best for you and Antony."

Harry looked torn, his rage battling with reason. His hands were still trembling.

"Valerie," he said suddenly, his voice thick. "I think it's best if you go home."

My heart stung at his words.

"I agree," his father chimed in. "Harry and I need to talk."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. Minutes ago, Harry had held me, kissed me, told me he loved me. Now, he was pushing me away. I knew it wasn't personal, but it felt personal.

"Okay," I said, keeping my voice steady. "If that's what you want... I'll go to my parents' house."

Harry nodded, already heading to his room to grab my bag. He didn't argue. He didn't protest. He just wanted me gone.

"I'll drive you," he offered bluntly.

"No, it's fine," I replied quickly. "You need to talk with your family, probably your lawyer. I'll call someone to come pick me up."

He didn't even ask who.

He simply nodded and placed my bag in my hands.

I gritted my teeth against the sting in my chest. Maybe I was being overdramatic, but I felt discarded—like I was part of the problem instead of the person standing beside him.

I pulled out my phone and texted the only person who knew where Harry's house was.

Can you come pick me up from Harry's house if it's not much trouble?

Something wrong?

No, just need a friend.

You've got one. Be there in 5.

I thanked the Styles for their hospitality, adjusted my bag, and headed for the door.

"Are we good?" Harry asked, his voice softer now.

I hesitated. "Yeah. We're good," I whispered, but it didn't feel true.

Moments later, I heard the familiar roar of Leo's bike approaching the house. As soon as the engine cut off, Harry's eyes darkened.