Because Hearts Get Broken

And I choose me

A few weeks after the family dinner, Taylor finds herself at a friend's party that Alana had begged her to go to as her plus one, just to disappear from her sight as soon as they were in.

The sky-high apartment is decorated in an extreme black-and-white minimalist style, the coolness making her feel as if she's on display, like a solitary item on a fridge shelf.

That's until she spots Harry across the room, and a wave of warmth washes over her.

He's standing near the edge of the room, dressed in a sleek, dark suit that accentuates his shoulders. She dwells on the familiarity in which he moves as he chats with a couple.  His hair is tousled just right, and the dim light casts a glow over his face, highlighting his chiselled features.

She heads to the bar to distract herself with a drink—the only one she'll allow herself tonight. "Baby steps," she tells herself, her emotions too fragile and raw to go without tonight.

The alcohol burns her throat, offering little comfort, and as she turns around, she finds Harry standing a few feet away.

Their eyes meet, and for a moment, the noise of the party fades into the background.

"Hey", he says, his voice low.

His eyes soften when she looks at him, mirroring the sadness on her own.

She looks striking and fragile, her sleek midnight-blue dress contrasting with the vulnerability in her sapphire eyes. He notices the subtle tremor in her hands as she clutches her drink, the faint flush of her cheeks.

"Hi," she replies, forcing a polite smile. Her heart races and she struggles to maintain her composure. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"Do you want to step outside?" Harry suggests, nodding toward the terrace. "It's quieter there, and probably livelier", he adds with a smirk eyeing the cool, marbled space around them.

Taylor hesitates for a moment, but then nods. They both move toward the terrace, leaving the noisy party behind.

The cool night air feels refreshing against her flushed skin, and she is struck by how Harry's presence is grounding, but also destabilising.

They find a secluded spot away from the party's chaos. The stars above seem distant and Taylor leans against the railing, overlooking the illuminated rooftop pool, trying to steady her breathing.

She turns to face him then, and she guesses this may be as good a time as any to finally speak up about what has been on her mind for the past months, ever since that fateful night.

The explanation he deserved.

She grips the railing with both hands for balance, then meets his gaze.

"I want to thank you for everything," Taylor begins, her voice wavering. "For always being there to mend me, even though you didn't get anything in return".

Harry's face remains impassive, but his heart skips a beat.

Her unexpected gratitude and the raw emotion in her voice affect him deeply.

He reflects on how he'd probably do it all over again, in a heartbeat, if it meant making her happy, even if it broke his heart once more. And the thought is both bittersweet and painful, but it's his truth.

"I'd do it all again for you," Harry says, his voice breaking as he looks into her eyes. "I still mean everything I told you that night before your show," he adds, placing his hand gently on hers on the railing.

Taylor observes his touch and can see the sincerity  in his eyes, and it's almost too much for her to bear. She wishes she could turn back time, to make things right.

Her breath catches, her heart aching. "I'm not ready to be in a relationship. Not with you or anyone else," she says softly, her voice trembling. "I know I promised. But I am not. I still have so much to figure out for myself. I don't want to keep hurting you, or myself anymore"

Harry's face falls. He looks away, and his shoulders slump slightly, and he seems to struggle to voice his answer.

"I understand," he says, his voice strained. "Seeing you like this, I can see how far you've come already", he sadly smiles encouragingly at her. "You need to do what's best for yourself, even if it tears me apart." He sadly smiles.

Tears well up in Taylor's eyes. The pain is sharp, threatening to overwhelm her.

"It's so hard seeing you move on," she says quietly.

Harry's voice is heavy with sorrow as he calmly explains. "I'm not with her, Taylor. I wouldn't do that. Not after... everything we went through."

His eyes study her reaction, "it's just work. That's all." He pauses, letting the news sink in.

The admission hits Taylor, the intensity of her feelings tightening her throat.

"I never wanted to hurt you", she says quietly, her voice breaking, "and I'm sorry for all the pain I caused you."

Harry's eyes glisten with unshed tears. "I'm sorry too," he finally says. "I wish things were different."

Taylor takes a shaky breath, feeling her resolve quiver, and the need to close their conversation. "I better go," she says softly.

And as she stares at him, his soft eyes and beautiful face contours, the world halts to a stop once more around them.

He nods, with a sad smile then, understanding, squeezing her hand tight in his, a last time.

"You go. Bye, love".

She turns to leave, and he restrains himself from reaching out to her. He knows that if he touched her, he could never let her go, not again.