One and only warning: This book contains religion, catholic guilt, sex addiction, drug abuse, graphic sexual content and heavy violence. Read at your own discretion.
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"I am a priest, Anna. A child of god. You are a temptation," He whispered out, h...
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I walked through the door of the house, slamming it behind me; paying no mind to Harry chasing after me, pleading softly for me to slow down and talk to him. My heart hammered in my chest, in a way that I hadn't felt in some time. Many things occurred, but this particular one made my stomach sick and felt heavy.
"Anna." Harry's heavy breath followed after as the door shut behind him, "Anna wait."
The last time I had seen Zayn, it was a disaster. Would that truly be the last time that I ever see him? The thought made my stomach roll. I swallowed the bile in my throat as I went into the kitchen to find the nearest bottle of wine to curve my nerves.
Harry bickered behind me, keeping a distance in the entryway of the kitchen as I shakily poured myself a glass of wine; halfway giving up and bringing the bottle to my lips and taking a good few gulps. It only made my stomach burn and my skin heat.
"Anna, please listen to me." Harry said again, pleading, tiredly, voice broken.
"No," I said shakily, pinching my eyes shut before turning to face Harry with fury, "No, you listen to me," I hissed, slamming the bottle of wine onto the counter, "You do not understand what it is like–," I started, swallowing my words as I tried to choose them carefully, "Nathan and Michael are dead. It's almost been a year since they died and now Zayn?" My voice cracked, tears brimming my eyes.
Harry frowned, fists clenched by his side as his eyes searched me.
"You may have not made him go into the cult, but you didn't even try to stop him," I sniffled, holding back a broken sob that rocked my chest, "No matter what feud was between the two of you, he is my best friend. He has been my best friend since I was little. I cannot believe that..."
"I tried," Harry interjected lightly, walking towards the island as he leaned his elbows against the surface, "I tried to stop him. I am not some sort of monster, not like you think I am."
"I don't think you to be a monster," I shook out, narrowing my eyes, "I think you to be stupid in the decisions you make and you've kept this from me for so fucking long," I wiped my eyes desperately, pacing the room, "No wonder why he never answered my calls, my texts, I–,"
I held my breath, stopping in my tracks. Harry's face fell as the confession slipped from my lips. He squinted his brows, rising from his elbows as he rounded the island.
"When..." Harry's voice failed him, "When did this happen?"
I knew the night, and I think in some ways, Harry did too. When things got so bad between us that I locked myself in the bathroom and called Zayn, only for his phone to go to voicemail. Texted him, only for him to ignore me. Zayn was right, and he would always be right, that I only came to him when the sky was falling and never anything after.
I hated that he was right. I hated that in some way, I always tried to push my feelings onto people that may not be able to bare the burden of those worries. Zayn had enough, and I knew that, and it killed me. It killed me that I was lady in distress, that I was Rapunzel desperately wanting to be saved.
