HARRY STYLES
As much as I would love to go home right now after staying a bit late already, I promised Lana that I would talk to Allison about the whole ballet situation before Wednesday, and that's tomorrow. Even though I could just call her on the phone and we can talk about it that way, I feel like maybe she'll receive it better if it's done in person.
"11 Greene Street," I say to the cab driver, pulling my phone out to call Lana so I can explain what's going on.
"Hey, are you on your way?"
I smile tiredly at the sound of her quiet voice, meaning Jane is surely already asleep.
"I'm actually on my way to Allison's to talk to her about Jane quitting ballet."
"Oh, okay," she doesn't sound angry or upset in any way; maybe just a bit surprised. "Well, Jane's asleep and we had fettuccini and peas for dinner so that's waiting for you whenever you come home."
"Sounds great, thank you," I rest my head back on the seat. "This shouldn't take too long."
"No worries, just...be safe."
"I will. See you soon."
"See you soon," she echoes before we hang up.
I'm sure I should try and plan what I'm going to say to Allison before arriving, but I can't seem to focus my thoughts on one subject by the time the cab pulls over on the familiar cobblestone street. I also feel like maybe I should have at least called to let her know that I'm coming, seeing as it's already ten. Hopefully, she's still up, and I'm not about to wake her and piss her off before we can undoubtedly argue.
I go off muscle memory to punch in the building code to let myself in through the front door, crossing through to the elevator. A woman comes off as I step in and tap the button for the third floor, all of which feels incredibly nostalgic in the strangest way. It's not a good or a bad thing, but it feels like I've time-traveled back to the past. Perhaps the strangest thing of all is when I have to knock on the door I used to live behind once upon a time.
After knocking three times, albeit gently, Allison finally opens the door in one of her usual matching pajama sets. Her hair and makeup are still done, which means she's not alone. She has this thing about being without makeup in front of a new guy she's seeing. I know that because she told me back when I was the new guy she was seeing.
"Harry?" She frowns in confusion as if she doesn't know if it's really me.
"Sorry, I know it's late," I see a man walking casually into the kitchen that used to be mine, wearing only sweats and no shirt. I can only see the back of him, but I know who it is.
"Well, now really isn't a good time," she glances over her shoulder at the sound of the tap running from the kitchen sink.
I stare at her and I know she can feel the anger searing from my eyes into hers. Am I jealous? No, but I can't imagine I'll ever feel peace when thinking of her and the man she cheated on me with sharing the bed that we used to share. He played a massive part in ruining our family and I'll never be okay with that regardless of how I feel about Allison. I hate him and that's just how it is.
"Harry," she tilts her head at me, reading my mind. "I don't have Jane here. You can't get mad at me for not spending all my time alone."
"You think that's why I'm mad?" I scoff. "I don't give a fuck if you're alone or not, I give a fuck that it's him who–"
Before I can go off on the wrong tangent, I stop to take a slow breath, trying to exhale the bitterness and anger away. She's still just blinking at me and waiting for me to bring up the real reason why I'm here.
