Mr. Styles (H.S.) [COMPLETE]

Forty

For a whole day, every time she went to the kitchen to begin making Mr. Styles his meals, Mr. Harris would come out to tell her that Mr. Styles would not be eating at the house. It frustrated her, but she did her best to shrug it off. She hadn't seen Harry since he walked out of her hospital room, but even that didn't surprise her. It pissed her off, but it didn't surprise her.

The next day, she received a memo that Mr. Styles would be out of the house for the rest of the week on a business trip and to do her best during that time to rest. Even Mr. Harris was gone. Katherine was left alone in the house with Mr. Bates, Harris' security back-up.

It wasn't until Friday morning that she heard stirrings of other people in the house. She heard Mr. Harris talking to Mr. Bates and she immediately wondered if Mr. Styles was home. It annoyed her that she felt hopeful for the first time in a week. And when she heard Harry's voice coming from his office, she was almost elated.

She stood outside the door listening for a moment, appreciating the sound of his lovely British accent as he took a business call. She had to take a deep breath and force the smile off her face as she made her way to the kitchen to make Mr. Styles' breakfast.

Once she was finished with his meal, she walked back toward his office to inform him it was ready. But instead, she was stopped by Mr. Harris.

"Mr. Styles has no need for breakfast this morning, Miss Mason. We will be leaving shortly for the office," Mr. Harris said curtly before walking away, leaving her feeling stunned.

Her breathing heightened as the anger boiled up inside of her. Mother fucker. She took another step toward the office door and stopped in her tracks, cursing Mr. Styles under her breath. Fuck him. Fuck him.

Without another rational thought, she threw open his office door and bombarded her way inside. Harry's head immediately snapped in her direction.

"I'll call you back when I get into the office. No, no. I'll call you back," he snapped before ending the phone call.

"Miss Mason," he said evenly, his eyes watching her.

"You're not going to eat breakfast?" She asked sharply.

"I have an early meeting. No time this morning," he said as his eyes dropped away from her and he began straightening out the papers on his desk.

"Just do it, Harry. Just be a man and do it," she snapped at him.

"Do what, Miss Mason?" He asked, looking at her with an even expression.

"Just let me go! Why am I even here? Why am I still here?" She yelled at him.

"I don't know what you mean," he said, his voice unwavering.

"It's been a week and a half, Harry! What am I doing here?" She snapped at him, feeling absolutely defeated.

"I've been away on business," he told her as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"How convenient!" She growled.

"I don't know what you mean," he said, cocking a passive eyebrow at her.

"God. Fuck," she growled, angrily running her hand down her face.

"Miss Mason?" He questioned.

"I-I'm done. I'm done with this," she told him, letting out a weighted breath.

She couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't live in a house where she was walking on eggshells. She couldn't deal with his apathy and silent-treatment. It wasn't fair. None of this was her fault, yet he treated her as such. The only fault she had in the situation was giving in to his advances. She was done.

"Ahem, Mr. Styles. The car is ready," Mr. Harris said from the doorway.

"Thank you," Harry said as he shoved the papers from his desk into his briefcase.

Katherine stood slack-jawed, staring at him. It didn't even phase him – whether she was there or not. It didn't matter.

"Miss Mason, I have to get to work. Can we talk about this later?" Mr. Styles said, sounding entirely too professional for the matter at hand.

"No," she said quietly as the tears threatened to fall from her eyes.

His eyes narrowed at her and she knew that look. He wanted to punish her. But she also knew he wouldn't. Not after everything that happened.

"I quit," she said quietly, but firmly. And finally she saw a spark in his eyes. A flame of anger or betrayal or something. But it extinguished just as fast.

"If that's what you want," he said indifferently.

"It's what I want," she choked out.

Mr. Styles gave her one last look and then a nod before he disappeared out of his office. And she was left there to fall apart.