The state I'm in COMPLETED

We meet again

"Hmm...yeah, I'll see what I can do... though honestly, I don't think this is such a good idea, Lucy."

"Why not? It's my party—I can invite whomever I want. Who else would I invite if not my friends? You are my friend, right, Valerie?"

Lucy's voice had a hopeful lilt, a barely-there plea for me to say yes.

I sighed. I was planning on going home for the weekend—coffee with Leo and Rose, nothing more. Seeing Harry? That was not part of my plan. But saying no to Lucy was harder than I expected.

"I know it's a lot to ask, but... can Rose come with me? I don't want to be there alone."

"Of course, Val. No need to ask. Besides, I already told Harry to go out... I don't want him here, watching everything I do, if you know what I mean."

The cheeky grin she wore was so Harry that my stomach flipped.

"Oh... okay then. I guess I'll see you tonight."

Relief washed over me—no Harry. But the disappointment lingered, too. Why did it feel like I was losing something?

I know I sound like I belong in a psych ward but love and insanity aren't so different.

Rose bailed last minute—something about a hot date, as she called it. Leo didn't say much, but his disapproving stare said enough. I ignored it.

Getting ready took forever. Too dressy felt like I was trying, too casual felt like I didn't care. I settled on the green dress Harry had picked out back in the good days. My hair in a sleek bun, makeup minimal.

I parked my car far from the house—the place was already swarming with people. Music pounded through the walls, red cups scattered across the lawn, couples making out against the patio railing.

This didn't feel like Lucy's home.

But stepping inside, the air was thick with nostalgia. My feet moved on instinct, every hallway holding echoes of Harry. His hand resting at the small of my back, the warmth of his voice whispering against my ear, his breath assuring me I belonged here.

But he wasn't here now.

"You made it!" Lucy's voice cut through the noise, her arms wrapping around me in a warm hug—definitely a Styles trait.

"Yeah... I did." My eyes roamed the space, drinking in the familiar surroundings that now felt so foreign.

"He's not here," she whispered, reading my mind.

"Yeah... I know. You told me, remember?"

"Go ahead, make yourself at home. Drinks in the kitchen, food in the dining room, DJ takes requests... have fun, Val."

She was trying so hard to make me feel comfortable, but comfort was impossible in a place soaked with memories of Harry.

"Thanks, Lucy." I forced a smile and escaped to the kitchen.

The second I stepped inside, I saw us.

Harry teasing me while I washed dishes, flicking water at me until I threatened to soak him. Him licking the knife after spreading cream cheese, just to piss me off. The way he would smear it on my cheek and laugh while I pretended to be mad.

The memory hit so hard it almost winded me.

Shaking it off, I grabbed a beer from the fridge and closed it too fast, as if that could slam the memories shut, too.

Beer in hand, I drifted back to the party, mind elsewhere, body moving on autopilot—until I bumped into someone.

A cold splash.