Start From Scratch (Sequel To Why Me???)

Ruined Lunch

"Lunch time!" I announce, as the elevator doors open. All of my colleagues look at me with grateful expressions and then there's an uproar, as they all grab their coats, wallets, purses and head toward the break room, or some restaurant nearby.
"And then there was one, who has to eat all by herself." I murmur to myself, as I, too, make my way out of the office building. Today, Samuel didn't show up. Instead, he called me and told me what had to be done today. His mother's getting sicker by the minute and I understand his need to stay with her at all times. I went through the same thing when Harry was in a coma. I wanted to be by his side all day and all night. However, that wasn't possible, as I had to earn a living. Burger King, or ice-cream? I question myself.
"Hey." I look up from my phone to find Harry standing in front of me, a blue plastic bag in his right hand, and another in his left.
"Harry, what're you doing here?" I ask him, surprised to find him at this time in this part of the city. This area of the city is mainly populated with offices and clubs. It's busy during the day due to the offices and at night due to the clubs. No malls, museums, or other sightseeing places rest around here.
"I asked Liam where you worked, and he told me." Harry says, looking nervous. "I had nothing to do today afternoon, so I thought that I'll bring lunch." Harry holds up the plastic bags. "Hope you don't mind?"
"N-No, not at all. Come on in, then. We'll have lunch in my cabin," I say. Harry smiles, seeming satisfied. I lead the way up to my cabin and then hold the door open, as Harry makes his way inside. He places the plastic bags on the small coffee table that rests in one corner of my cabin. A couch lays beside it.
"I brought Thai." Harry says, as he takes out the styrofoam boxes.
"Nice," I murmur. Honestly, the fact that Harry is here is still confusing for me. Why is he trying to be my friend? Is he even trying, or is this some coincidence? Harry is so unpredictable that I don't know what to expect. I don't know what to assume when he does such things. So, let's just come out with it.
"What're you actually doing here, Harry?" I ask him, as I wheel my office chair toward the couch. The sofa is a two-seater and I don't want to sit so close to him. He hands me a styrofoam box with a fork and I take it. Just the sight of this food makes my stomach grumble.
"I'm eating lunch with you, Bella."
"No shit, Sherlock!" I roll my eyes. "But what are you actually doing here?" Harry furrows his brow, pouting.
"Are you drunk?" He asks.
"What?" Now, I'm even more confused.
"You keep asking me the same question." Harry says, matter-of-factly. "You're either drunk or high on drugs. I'm betting on the former."
"Harry, I'm neither!" I snap. "What are you doing here? Why am I in your thoughts after two months?" I place the box on the table and stand up, walking over to the floor length window.
"Someone's panties are in a twist," Harry murmurs. Huffing, I turn around and glare at him. Harry needs to understand that this isn't easy for me. Hanging out with an ex - not a normal ex, to top it off - isn't easy. Yet, he's so damn calm and he's acting as if nothing has happened between us.
"Harry, what's actually going on?" I ask him, yet again.
"Bella...I miss you." Harry says, passing his hand through his hair. "I know I screwed up, but-"
"Screwed up?!" I yell, cutting him off. "Screwed up doesn't define it, Harry! You destroyed me from the inside out with that little stunt. You brought a girl to our house, shagged her and you didn't even feel an ounce of remorse."
"I-I...there's nothing to say," Harry whispers.
"Yeah, there's nothing to say because you're screwed up. Big time!" I say, leaning against the desk. "Harry, I know that you don't remember anything from before the accident, but you were different. You were good. I don't blame you for not remembering, but I wish you did because I loved that Harry. He cherished me, loved me, made me feel special. You, on the other hand, cheat on me, make me feel like a piece of shit and I'm sick of it." I pause, looking up to keep the tears in my eyes. "This isn't a movie, or a happy ending book where I'll always come back to you. This is reality, Harry and I will not be treated like filth." Harry gets up and begins to come toward me. I hold up my hands and take a step back. "Don't."
"Bella, just listen to me. Let me explain myself." Harry pleads.
"Explain? You've got to be kidding me?!" God, this man makes me so fucking mad. I want to punch him, slap him, pull his precious hair out. "You had two months to apologize, or at least try to make amends and explain yourself." A traitorous tear escapes my eye. "But you didn't." My voice cracks and I hate myself for being weak.
"I needed time to sort life out, just like you did." Harry says, placing his hand on my arm. Fuck, he can't even listen to me and stay back.
"I think this lunch is over." I say, composing myself and shrugging his hand off my arm. "You may leave. Thank you for everything." I keep my face as neutral and blank, as I can; the total opposite of what I'm feeling inside. Inside, my body, brain and heart are fighting a nasty war. Harry looks at me for a minute and then he sighs and jogs out of my cabin. I close my eyes and sink onto the floor.