Remnant [h.s]

chapter fifteen

Fuck you for leaving me when I fucking needed you.

☆ ☆ ☆

Arwen Milton

The rest of the funeral service went in one ear and out the other. I was hardly focused for a second, and I didn't dare stand up in front of the crowd to make a speech.

My mind was too focused on Harry, too focused on what we was doing, too focused on how the kids were and what was going on behind closed doors.

I hated that he consumed my every thought. I hated that I let him get into my mind and allowed him to ruin this day for me. I couldn't sit comfortably after he left, I couldn't think about Jazz and all that she was, I couldn't focus on the kind words that were spoken about her, I couldn't listen to her mum cry at the front, begging for her baby girl to come back.

Harry ruined that for me, and for that, I was mad at him. Beyond mad actually. I don't think there was quite a word to describe how infuriated I was. My blood was boiling.

I didn't stay around to entertain anyones solemn conversations, and I definitely didn't want to be approached by Jace again. That would be a recipe for disaster that I just didn't want to face right now.

I didn't want to face anyone asking questions, wanting to know where Harry was and why he had ran off in such a fluster. I briefly explained it all to Anne before heading off myself, though I had to phone a taxi, Harry was my ride here, and he had left me high and dry.

I phoned him about a million times in the back of the taxi, ringing and texting him all the way to his house and every time I'm met with nothing, a voicemail and no reply.

I get the point where I'm begging him to answer the phone, crying down the phone that he needed to pick up and at least tell me that he was okay.

"Come on Harry, answer the phone" I whisper into my phone as it dials for what feels like the millionth time. I wasn't really sure why I was still trying at this point. It was clear he wasn't going to answer and the taxi driver must think I'm a total nutcase, sobbing into my phone, begging for a man to answer me back.

But I'm met with nothing. A beep and it gets cut off.

He really has a way to ignite the upmost anxiety within me, especially when the kids are in his care. Of course I worry about him and I care about him, but I'd be a fool if the first thing that didn't come to mind was the kids and their safety.

Harry wasn't entirely emotionally stable, and I'd hope to god he'd never do anything to himself and I know for a fact he wouldn't hurt those kids. I just worry that his mind would get the best of him, leading them all to the unimaginable.