BLACKHOUSE [H.S.]

Fifty-Two

TW: knives, blood, mild violence, and discussion of human trafficking

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"...so I need you to call his clients for today and reschedule them, is that alright?" Louis asks when I get to work, and sit down at the front desk. He looks at me nervously, his eyes flicking back and forth between mine, clearly uncomfortable speaking to me about Harry.

I swallow my groan of annoyance - not at Louis, but Harry. It's my first day back to work, and he's called out again, supposedly because he's "not feeling well".

Yeah fucking right.

I know it's because he's high, drunk, or hungover. And, of course, I'm the one that has to deal with canceling his clients day-of.

I guess part of me is glad he isn't here today, but I was finally ready to face him. I've spent the last couple of days mentally preparing myself to go back to work, now who the hell knows when I'll actually be seeing him. Louis said he'll be back tomorrow, but I find that hard to believe.

"Yeah, of course," I say with a forced smile before facing forward to turn on the iPad.

Louis lets out a sigh of relief, rapping his tattooed knuckles on the faded, wooden desk top twice. "Thanks, Katie," he says. "You're amazing."

My cheeks flush, and I keep my head down so Louis doesn't see the effect the compliment has on me. After weeks of feeling like absolute shit about myself, his words mean more to me than he knows.

Without another word, he walks away, towards the back room.

I pinch my eyes shut, breathing in deeply through my nose before picking up the phone to begin rescheduling Harry's clients.

Thankfully, all three of them were very understanding. One even asked me to tell him she hopes he feels better when I mentioned he was sick. Thank god she couldn't see my face, because I don't think it would be possible for my eyes to roll farther back even if I tried.

Finally, I set the phone down, and rub my face tiredly with my hands.

The last two days have been so exhausting, with my mind constantly reeling from the conversation Harry and I had in front of my apartment building, making it difficult to sleep.

I know he feels terrible, I could see it in his face, but isn't that what always happens? He says something horrible to me, regrets it, and then I immediately take him back because he says he's sorry?

I can't keep forgiving him every single time. I can't keep accepting his words at face value, not when his actions completely contradict them. I can't keep...

My throat feels tight as Harry, once again, consumes my thoughts, and I have to blink away the burning in my eyes. I cannot cry at work, not with the rest of the guys here. I already can't stand the pitying looks they give me whenever they see me. I know they mean well, and that it comes from a place of love, but it just makes me feel even more embarrassed than I already am.