Only You {h.s}

Chapter Eight

Trigger Warning

A week has gone by since the party.  Five days have gone by since Harry kissed me.  So many emotions are going through my mind I feel as though I might burst.

Lou got me a new phone, but I haven't even turned it on yet.  I have no interest in what's going on outside of my bedroom.  I hate myself for throwing my own pity party and I hate myself for having a reason to be pitied.  How could this happen to me again?

Not only am I angry at Zayn, but I am disappointed in myself.  I thought I had stopped being so naïve.  But when I look back on our relationship, all I see are red flags.  He found a way to manipulate me without ever making me question him.  I thought he would do better, be better for me.  He always told me he would.

But here I am, laying in my bed, in complete darkness.  Alone.  Bruises that don't seem to fade away etched into my skin like a tattoo I never wanted.  I feel a lot of things right now, but most of all I just feel alone.

Even with Louis and Harry in the house, I manage to avoid conversation as often as I can.  I don't want to talk about it.  And I don't want to talk to Harry, knowing we will have to address the kiss.

The kiss. 

When people talk about feeling that spark, I never knew it could be so literal.  It felt like electricity was running through us.  It made me feel alive.  But like any feeling, it was only temporary.  The moment passed and I was left to be alone again.

The way Harry makes me feel confuses the hell out of me.  He held my hand and I only felt comfort – a stark difference from the first time he tried to touch me.  I don't know what changed.  I suppose it could be knowing he was the one to save me that night.  He's the one who looks at me like he sees the world in me.

Despite the caring way Harry treats me and the times he's told me how much he wants to be there for me, I can't fathom that he would actually want me.  He said he could make things right for me.  But how could he say that if he doesn't know the truth about my past?

After what happened to me a few years ago, I know isolating myself will only hurt me in the end.  What Zayn did to me is something I will remember for the rest of my life and I don't know how to forgive him for that.  I've spent the last week sulking and I've had enough.  I have to start trying to live my life again. 

Starting with my new phone, I finally activate it and I am relieved to find it came with a new phone number and none of my old contacts.  Luckily, I memorized Allie's phone number.  I quickly dial and let it ring.

"Hello?" Allie answered.

"Hey Al, its Meredith," I say.

"Holy fucking shit! You're alive!  Where have you been?  Why haven't you been answering my texts?  W-"

"Slow down, Allie.  Can you come over? I'll explain everything," I cut her off, wanting to stop her inquisition.

"I'll be over in 10.  Love you."   

"I love you, too."

I hang up the phone and let out a deep breath.  She's finally going to know what happened to me.  I know I can trust her, but that isn't why I'm nervous.  Talking about it just makes it seem so real.  It's like, if I keep it all in my head, I can pretend it was just a bad dream.

I go downstairs to wait for Allie, letting out a relieved breath that nobody is home.  A soft knock grabs my attention.  When I swing the door open, Allie is standing there with wide eyes.  She has obviously taken notice of my bruises.