Because Hearts Get Broken

Phantoms

The house feels too quiet.

She sits on the edge of her bed, a half-empty wine bottle clutched in her trembling hand. The dark red liquid swirls with her tears, and she sips on a desperate attempt to numb her pain. The curtains are drawn close, and the room is dimly lit by the bedside lamp.

Her imagination, so useful in her song writing, now plays tricks on her, conjuring vivid images of Harry and Olivia. Holograms of them together, parading around her room.

They seem almost real—Harry' hands on Olivia's hair, pulling her close to him, kissing her with the same warmth he used to reserve for her.

The affection display is a cruel mockery.

She lets herself fall back on the bed and her mind spirals, replaying the scenes over and over again, the images cutting deep.

She tries closing her eyes tighter, but the ghostly projections invade every corner of her thoughts.

Another swig of wine burns her throat.

The words from their last argument replay endlessly in her mind, the finality of it all.

"Is this really what you want?" he had asked.

His pained face still dances in her mind.

"No!" she cries out in her mind, realising now how deeply she regrets her actions. All she wants is him, and the tears flow quiet and freely again. She wants to run to him, and to hold him. She knows she would feel so much better, in his arms. She always does.

The phone buzzes on the nightstand, but she ignores it. She's too exhausted to face anyone.

The morning finds her asleep over the covers, with a slight pounding headache and a desperately dry mouth.

As she slowly awakens and the memories come flooding back, she relieves the pain and dread of last night.

A sudden knock at the door breaks through the oppressive silence of the bedroom, a lack of noise that she has come to treasure lately.

"Taylor, honey? Are you in there?" The voice, filled with concern belongs to her mother. "I'm coming in."

The door creaks open, and her mother's footsteps approach.

Taylor's heart races as she scrambles to hide the wine bottles, but it's too late. Her mother takes in the scene; the mess, Taylor's dishevelled appearance, and the haunted look in her eyes.

"Oh, Taylor..." Her mother's voice is gentle and filled with sorrow. "What's going on?"

Taylor looks up, her eyes hollow and shiny, embarrassment adding to her toll of emotions. "I don't know, mum. I am just so tired."

Her mother's expression softens with concern. "You need some fresh air. Sometimes a change of scenery helps." She holds Taylor's hand gently, sitting next to her on the bed.

"Let's go for a drive. It might clear your mind."

Without protest, Taylor gets up and walking to the bathroom, readies herself as best she can given her state.

The sun is setting; she can't believe she has locked herself in for nearly a day. She welcomes the cool night air, a soothing contrast to the heat inside her house.

They get into the car, and as her mother drives, the city lights blur past, a distraction. The hum of the engine fills the silence between them. Taylor is trapped in her own thoughts, and her mother glances over, sensing her struggle.

"Is this about Travis? Are you having second thoughts?" Taylor shakes her head slightly, her eyes fixed on the sidewalks. "Is it something with Brad?" her mother asks, trying to understand the source of Taylor's distress.

Taylor shakes her head, her voice hollow. "Travis is in the past. And Brad... I don't even know what that is. I don't know why I'm with him. It was over before it started".

Her mother's expression is one of confusion and concern. But she gives her time.

Taylor's breath catches before she speaks. "It's... Harry."

"Harry?" For a moment, her mum doesn't seem to place the name, and her gaze is distant as her mind searches. Then, it clicks. "Harry Styles?" she finally realises, her surprise unmissable.

The disbelief in her tone grates on Taylor's ears. "But that was so long ago. I thought... it was so hard on you both..."

Taylor interrupts her, her voice cracking. "I know. But... it never went away, mom. I felt like I was finally moving on, but now I realise I never really did. We never did." She finally turns to look at her mom.

Her mother falls silent, her face a mask of contemplation. The car's engine hums softly.

Taylor watches as her mother's expression shifts, understanding dawning in her eyes.

"Taylor," her mother finally says, her voice is gentle but firm, "if you still care about Harry, if you still want him in your life...." Her mom softly warns her, her worry and practical side kicking in.

"Remember how it was? Having to fit time for each other around your schedules, the media and fans' intrusion. It won't be easy, baby ".

Taylor nods, hugging herself, her arms tight around her chest. Flashbacks of how she drove herself mad missing him. Both too impaired by their youth to make it work.

"I know, you're right". Taylor says quietly, her voice barely audible. "But I feel... when he's around, I feel real, seen, it's like..." Her voice breaks off, as her eyes well up.

"I just love him." The tears fall, and her mom locks eyes with her at the red light, understanding.

Taylor wipes her tears, taking a deep breath before she continues. She tells her mom everything, bringing her up to speed on what's been happening, how he's been there for her through all the chaos, how he's been a lifeline lately.

"What if he doesn't want me back? What if I've ruined everything? I've been such a mess." She asks, looking for her mom's reassurance.

Her mother's gaze softens. "You can't control his reaction. But if you don't try, you'll never know."

The realisation hits Taylor hard as she takes in the life around her; couples strolling together lost in their private worlds, lonely old ladies walking their dogs and smiling at passersby, someone shouting angrily into their phone.

These simple, everyday scenes ground her and she knows she should apologise, confront the mess she's made. But the thought of facing him, of seeing the pain she has inflicted in his eyes, and the possibility of being rejected, paralyses her.