The state I'm in COMPLETED

Decisions

"I guess you've just given me your answer," Harry stated bluntly, frustration stiffening his entire body.

"I guess I did," I shot back, completely bewildered by how we even got to this point. This wasn't some heartfelt, romantic proposal—it was an ultimatum, a knee-jerk reaction to his jealousy. It was impulsive. Reckless.

"You... you can't be serious, Harry. We've been together for a few months. Your divorce and custody battle are still ongoing. I'm still in uni. I don't have a job. You have child support. And most importantly"—I exhaled sharply, my voice rising—"I am nineteen, Harry! Freaking nineteen!"

His jaw tightened. "I see," he whispered.

"Harry," I stepped forward, reaching for him, but he took a step back, hands raised like I was the one pushing him away.

"No. No, you're absolutely right," he bit out, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Who am I to mess with your precious education? Your dreams? Your future? Guess I'm not part of it after all."

"That's not what I said, and you know it!" I snapped. "You can't just ask me to marry you because you're scared of losing me to someone else—especially when I've told you over and over that Leo is not a threat!"

"Can you honestly say that?" His voice was quieter now, his eyes full of doubt. "Can you honestly say you don't have any feelings for him? At all?"

I took a deep breath. "I do have feelings for him, Harry," I admitted. His face fell, but before he could react, I rushed to explain. "But not the kind you're thinking. It's different. It's always been different."

He let out a slow, shaky breath. "What kind of different?" His voice was strained, his fingers curling into fists. "Because from what I saw last night, from how you ran to him instead of me, I don't know what the hell to believe anymore."

I stiffened. So that's what this was about. He didn't propose because he wanted to marry me. He proposed because he was insecure.

"If you don't know by now, then maybe we shouldn't be doing this at all," I muttered, my throat tightening.

He flinched, like I'd slapped him. "Maybe we shouldn't," he pushed, his pride taking over.

"So, what?" I scoffed, crossing my arms. "You propose, I don't say yes, and now you're just done with me? That's your logic?!"

He exhaled sharply, running his hands through his hair. "I don't want to prolong something that's inevitable," he muttered.

"Don't," I cut him off before he could go any further. "Don't do this, please."

I wasn't rejecting him. I was rejecting the timing, the circumstances, the sheer recklessness of his proposal. If things were different—if he was officially divorced, if I was out of uni, if we weren't constantly fighting battles just to be together—I would have said yes in a heartbeat.

But we weren't there yet.

"I can't say yes right now," I admitted. "But I can promise you something else." I stepped closer, my hands gripping his forearms. "When everything settles, when the timing is right—when I'm at least, I don't know, past twenty-two—and if you still want me, you can ask me again. And I promise you, Harry, I will say yes."

His eyes searched mine, uncertainty flickering in those deep jade irises. I held my breath, waiting for the inevitable storm, but then...

His lips twitched. His dimples appeared.