The state I'm in COMPLETED

Time

"Val..."

His voice was cautious, his steps hesitant as he moved closer but not too close—testing the waters.

I stayed perfectly still, eyes locked on his, but I felt the tears before I even realized I was crying. Silent. Unstoppable. I didn't even have the strength to wipe them away, to control them. To control me.

"I asked you a question." My voice was quieter now, but unwavering. "Who is she?"

I needed answers. And I needed them now.

"Val..." He repeated my name like a plea.

I snapped.

"Don't you dare lie to me, Harry." My voice shook, but he could tell I wasn't letting this go. "Just tell me. I want to know. You owe me that much."

His gaze dropped to the floor. "You don't know her," he admitted. "She... she works for my lawyers."

I already knew—but hearing him say it? It was like my world tipped sideways. My stomach twisted so violently I thought I might be sick.

"Okay." My voice was eerily calm. "Thank you for telling me."

Then I stood. Slipping my shoes on, grabbing my things. Leaving.

Harry stared. Like he didn't understand what was happening.

"Val... say something." His voice was thick with panic.

I didn't.

I kept moving—grabbing my coat, my bag, my phone. My hands moved on autopilot. But I left behind the little bag filled with gifts I'd brought for him, things I'd picked out because they reminded me of him. Things that didn't matter anymore.

"Please say something!" His voice cracked, and suddenly, he was right there, gripping my wrist, eyes burning into mine. "Your silence is killing me. I'm sorry."

"Okay," I whispered.

Then I turned. Picked up my suitcase. Moved toward the door.

For the first time since I met him, I didn't want to look at Harry Styles.

"For fuck's sake, Val—talk to me!"

He yanked my suitcase from my hands, forcing me to face him. His breath was ragged, his jaw clenched tight.

"Get your hands off me." My voice came out sharp and ice-cold.

"I don't want to do this," I added, my hands shaking as I tried to grab my suitcase again.

"What do you want from me?" He hissed, exasperated.

Something inside me snapped. I shoved him back—hard.

He stumbled a few steps. Good.

"What the hell do you want from me, Harry?" My voice was rising, words tumbling out unchecked. "You want me to scream? You want me to call you every name under the sun? You want me to break down and beg you to love me? To choose me?"

His breathing was uneven. "Yes."

My heart stopped.

I exhaled sharply, feeling my ribs shake from the sheer force of my pain. "I'm not that girl, Harry."

I turned, heading for the door, but I stopped just once.

"One last thing," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. He looked away for a second but then—locked on me.