The state I'm in COMPLETED

Unbelievable

What do you mean, Niall?" I asked, my eyebrows furrowing, confusion knotting in my stomach.

"I asked you for your number. I asked you out for coffee. And I asked if you had a boyfriend, and you said no... but that's obviously not the case," Niall said, his voice just loud enough to carry over the music, laced with disbelief.

"I'm not lying, Niall," I snapped, the anger bubbling under my skin not directed at him, but at Harry.

Harry, who didn't want to be with me.
Harry, who let me go.
Harry, who told me to move on.
And yet, here he was, claiming me in a way that wasn't his right anymore.

"Valerie, come on. He's standing two meters away from us. He has your name tattooed on his arm—it's peeking out from under his shirt. He just said he came here to see you. And when I asked why he was here on campus, so far from home, he said..." Niall paused, shaking his head with a dry chuckle.

"He said his girlfriend works here. And then he pointed at you."

I felt like I'd been slapped. A cold, bitter slap that left me reeling.

That's a lie. That's not what we are anymore. But how do you explain a breakup that never really ended? A love that never really went away? How do you tell someone, I am his, but I'm not. He doesn't want me, but he won't let me go?

I swallowed down the bitterness clawing up my throat.

"That's not true, Niall. We were together, but we aren't anymore. Actually, he's the one who ended it. I'm not lying—I don't have a reason to."

The disbelief in Niall's expression softened slightly, but it was still there, clouding his blue eyes. "Then I don't get it. Because he sure as hell doesn't act like a guy who let you go."

I didn't have an answer for that.

Instead, I turned, marching past the tables and right through him—Harry—brushing my shoulder roughly against his as I passed. The force made him spill some of his beer onto his hand, and I caught the flicker of surprise in his jade eyes before I walked away, not sparing him another glance.

"He doesn't want to let go, Val. Give him a break," Rose said when I explained the situation to her at the bar.

I scoffed, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. "Then he shouldn't let go, Rose. This is killing me. He wants me, but he doesn't. He isn't my boyfriend, but he claims to be. I—I just—"

"Don't worry. I'll explain to Niall, he'll understand. By the way, I'm heading home soon, sweetie." She squeezed my arm reassuringly before walking away.

I exhaled sharply. My entire body was tense, my jaw aching from how tightly I had been clenching it. I needed air.

I turned to Dan at the bar. "Give me a cigarette."

He raised a brow. "Trouble, sugar?"

I nodded, and he slid a pack toward me, pulling out two cigarettes. "Take your break now, sweetie. You look like you need one."

I walked past the kitchen, grabbing a lighter on the way, and pushed open the back door into the alleyway behind the club.

It was dimly lit, the cold air stinging against my exposed skin. I sat down on the chipped wooden bench, placing the second cigarette beside me. I lit the first one, inhaling deeply. The smoke curled inside my lungs, sharp and warm, a temporary numbing sensation against the emotional storm raging inside me.