The awkwardness in my house when Niall came to pick up Lucy for her dance class was enormous. I was stiff, Harry was quiet and Niall was trying his best not to notice either of those things while Lucy was also screaming about not being able to find her tap shoes which Harry finally located under her bed.
The stress level was off the charts and both of us were exhausted. We were sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the floor. No one knew where to start, least of all me. I didn't want to say anything first. I didn't want to set him off. I didn't think he'd yell but I didn't want to offend him either.
I stood up and walked to the refrigerator. I pulled it open and stared inside as if it held the answers to life. I clearly had no idea what I was doing and it was culminating in me hurting everyone I cared about. I wanted all of it to stop. I wasn't a liar, despite all evidence to the contrary.
I slammed the refrigerator door, took a deep breath and opened my mouth,
"I know you hate me. And you should. What I did was unforgivable. But I didn't do it to purposely hurt you." I blurted out. My eyes were squeezed shut though I wasn't really sure why. I was turned away from him anyway. I shook my head. I needed to get a grip. I was acting like an idiot. I popped my eyes open and turned around slowly to face him.
He was smiling, though I didn't know why. It kind of bugged me,
"Are you laughing at me?"
He gestured to the refrigerator,
"Just wondering why you're yelling at the fridge."
I narrowed my eyes at him,
"This isn't funny."
"Well that was." He countered.
I took a step and placed my hands on the island in front of me purposely. I licked my lips and looked back up at him,
"Look, I don't mean to make you focus on something that's uncomfortable for me....but...."
He held up his hands,
"Alright....sorry." He stood up and stood on the other end of the island, "I don't hate you."
I stopped,
"You don't?"
"No."
I folded my arms over my stomach,
"Then what do you- how do you feel?"
He blinked a few times and I watched while it seemed like he was trying to figure out what to say. He shrugged,
"I'm not really sure if I'm being honest. I mean...I don't feel any different. I guess."
I shook my head,
"Seriously? I mean....seriously?" My tone was a bit irritated and he looked surprised. I couldn't help it. He had a legit reason to be pissed off. An actual genuine good sensible excuse to tell me to get fucked and that he never wanted to see me again. I walked towards him, "You're gonna handle it like this? You're not mad at all?" I threw my hand out, letting it hit the counter with a slap, "You cannot be this passive. You cannot allow people to treat you like I did and get away with it without getting the tiniest bit angry."
"Yes I can." He responded evenly.
"Look Harry, I get it. You're all zen and you do yoga and you're in touch with your emotions and all that weird hippie shit....but we're talking about the fact that I lied to you....on purpose..." I waited for a reaction and then threw my hands up, "And still nothing."
