Eight | W2S

FIFTY THREE.

IM SO SORRY FOR THE LAST CHAPTER
YOUR COMMENTS 😭😭😭I felt so mean

I hope you are all much more appreciative and leave nice comments after this one 🥹

My Dad and I were on a plane flying back into London first thing on Christmas Day.

I hadn't told Harry, and my dad had only just convinced me that telling his parents was the right, and respectful thing to do.

I'd left him his Christmas present, along with presents I'd bought for the rest of his family.

His present had turned out incredible. A souvenir from each country I'd travelled to on tour, and also a badge, which I'd spent private hours sewing onto a blanket identical to the ones at my apartment.

At the time, I thought it was fitting, considering how much time he spent round there.

Now I was wondering if he'd ever come round again.

We'd arrived back to Heathrow at ten in the morning, and for Christmas Day it was surprisingly busy. 

It made me wonder how many people were returning to their families today. Not fleeing, like I was. 

My dad held a protective arm around my shoulders, guiding me through the airport as we collected our luggage, aiming to be out of here as quick as possible.  

I felt like I was on autopilot as I moved around, grateful for my dad's direction. I wouldn't have coped if he wasn't here with me. 

But by the time we got back to my apartment, I just wanted to be by myself, as guilty as I felt trying to convey those feelings to my dad. 

"Sweetheart, it's okay. I understand. Do you want me to stay in London for a bit? I can stay, if you'd like me to," he offers, and I know he genuinely means that, but I can't do that to him. 

I shake my head. "I'll be okay. I've got a big support system here, I can lean on them if I need to. Go home, and see in the New Year with mum," I encourage him, knowing he went and sat by mum's grave every year at midnight on December 31st, watching the fireworks in our town centre. 

"Promise you'll call me if you need me," he asks, with pleading eyes. 

I nod my head, my eyes feeling heavy, having restricting myself from crying on the way home from Guernsey.

"I'll leave you to it, then. But Kenzie - this feeling...what you're feeling right now, it won't be like this forever. Whether you two work it out, or you don't...this feeling is temporary. I promise," he tells me, kissing my forehead as he collects his luggage. 

I'm unable to reply with words, instead nodding my head and looking up at the ceiling, so not to cry in front of him again. 

As soon as he leaves, and the door is shut, the floodgates open. Tears stream down my face, as I am now left alone to truly think about how everything had ended so abruptly. 

It was for the best, I knew that - I think we both did, but it was the sudden nature of it all. 

One week ago we were happy, he was my biggest supporter at my shows, and now...he was in Guernsey, and I was in London, and we weren't together. 

He had to be awake now, and I found myself checking my phone, even though I knew he wouldn't be messaging me. I was probably the last person he wanted to talk to, or even see.