Because Hearts Get Broken

I made up my mind

Harry stumbles back into the dressing room, his heart still pounding in his chest. The energy from the crowd outside has faded into a muffled hum. Inside, Ed is waiting, packing his guitar away with the calm focus of someone who has seen it all.

He looks up as Harry walks in, his brow furrowing with concern.

"We're ready to go. You alright, mate?" Ed asks, his voice gentle, but Harry hears the underlying question, the worry beneath the words.

Harry stares at him.

Ed has been there through everything with them—when they met, when they fell in love, and when they tore each other apart. He has seen Harry at his worst, drowning in heartbreak and regret, and now, suddenly, it all feels like a betrayal.

"Did you know?" Harry's voice is rough, barely more than a whisper, but the accusation in it is clear.

Ed sets his guitar case down, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "Know what?"

Harry's body tenses visibly. "That she still had feelings for me. All this time. Why didn't you tell me?"

Ed sighs deeply, rubbing a hand over his face as if trying to gather his thoughts. "Harry, it wasn't for me to tell you. It's not my place—"

"Not your place?" Harry cuts him off, his voice rising in frustration. "You saw what it did to me! I drank and partied myself into oblivion, made mistake after mistake trying to forget her. You said she was fine. You said she'd moved on. But she didn't, did she? And you just... let me suffer?"

Ed looks at him with sympathy, his eyes heavy with the burden of the truths he has kept.

"What good would it have done, Harry? Telling you back then—what difference would it have made? You both needed to heal, to move on with your lives."

"Tell me now then," Harry demands, stepping closer, his voice shaking with desperation. "Tell me, dammit!"

Ed holds his gaze for a long moment, a silent battle playing out in his eyes. Finally, he just nods, the truth hanging between them like a weight neither of them wants to carry.

The confirmation hits Harry. He stumbles back, sinking into a chair, his legs no longer able to hold him up. His chest heaves as he scoffs, a bitter, broken laughter sound escaping his lips. He rubs his hands over his face, trying to push back the emotions.

"Does it matter now?" Ed asks quietly, his voice filled with the kind of gentle patience that only years of friendship can bring. "You've both moved on with your lives. Is there any point in reopening old wounds?"

Harry looks up at him, his vision blurred. "I don't know, Ed," he chokes out. "I don't know if it matters, but it feels like everything... everything is crashing down on me again. Like I never really moved on at all."

Ed watches him, his own heart heavy. He knows there's nothing he can say to ease the pain Harry is feeling now. Some wounds, no matter how much time has passed, never truly heal.

They sit there in silence, as Harry tries to come to terms with the fact that all this time, the one person he has tried so hard to forget has never really let him go either.

The next morning, Harry wakes up on Ed's couch. The room is quiet except for the gentle hum of the coffee machine in the kitchen.

Harry rubs his eyes, feeling the dull ache of sleep deprivation. They spent the night just chatting and sharing silences—a stark contrast to the turbulent nights of clubbing and drinking they used to share. But Ed is sober now, and he has progressively lost interest in that lifestyle.

He makes his way to the kitchen, where Ed is already making coffee. The comforting aroma fills the room, but it does little to soothe Harry's troubled mind. Ed glances up as he enters.

"What are you going to do?" Ed asks, picking up where they left off the previous night and handing him a cup of coffee. His voice is gentle but laced with the understanding of someone who knows Harry's patterns well.

"I need to talk to her," Harry says, his voice almost too quiet, and his words hang in the air between them.

Ed's eyes widen with alarm. "She has a show tonight, Haz. It's not a good idea to interrupt her now. Look, why don't you take some time? Don't be hasty."

"And what?" Harry's frustration bubbles to the surface. "Wait until she leaves again? Fly back to her silly American boyfriend? Waste another 10 years? She's here now, and it's the best time to talk to her. We never did that, you know?" Ed nods, he does, he was there. "I just... I just need to know...," Harry trails off, his voice faltering as he struggles to find the right words.

Ed watches him, the concern in his eyes deepening. He places a hand on Harry's shoulder, grounding him. "Just be careful, okay? I don't want to see either of you hurt like that again."

Harry nods, his throat tight with emotion. "Yeah... I'll be careful."

As Ed watches him, he sees the resolve in Harry's eyes, he knows there is no stopping him once he has made up his mind.