Mint [H.S.]

46

*A/N: Since it's been AGES since I've updated last, you may want to read the last chapter or two to remind yourself what's been happening.*

Warning - there's a very, very brief mention of suicide in this chapter. 

ISABELLA

It only takes a moment for everything to change. It takes one second before the world that you came to now, understand, and adjust to comes crashing down around you.

That's how I felt when everything happened - when Harry's life was potentially taken away, and I had lost our child.

I felt like the world that I had created, the world that I allowed myself to be in, had crashed down around me. It is quite possibly the worst feeling anyone could ever feel. I had tried so hard to become a strong person. To become my own Superwoman, but instead, I fell. I allowed my mind to run rampant in the pit of my agony and self-pity, only to lose myself in it all.

I know that it wasn't fair to Harry. I know that my mood swings and distant behaviour was doing nothing to help him get better. We were both grieving the lost of what could have been. But instead of working together as a team, I ditched him to fight on his own as I sat on the sidelines.

What happened next only made sense. Harry had talked me into it and I knew deep down that I needed to do it in order to save our relationship. I also needed to be strong - in mind and spirit, if I wanted to fight my father.

Therapy seemed like the worst possible thing to do. Maybe it was the awful connotation that came with it, or the stigma that society created, but I wasn't so gong-ho with the idea. We fought, argued, and yelled every day for two weeks. Maybe it's because I'm stubborn. Maybe it's because of my pride - but I didn't wan to do it. I had lost hope in everything and allowed myself to grow deeper into my depression.

It wasn't until Harry found me on the cold floor of his bathroom, with blood dripping from my arm, that I knew I wasn't okay. I needed help.

Winter in New York is my favourite thing. There's something breathtaking about the snow on the ground, the crispness of the air, and the mint flavoured drinks. My yellow gumboots splash the slush as I walk down the street to Harry and I's apartment. When everything went wrong, it made sense that we moved in together. My therapist suggested that it would help us rebuild our relationship, and help us move on together as a unit. Harry was all for it. I think he was happy to get some space from Stevie.

The warmth of our apartment welcomed me in like a warm hug. Our place was a step up from our little flat in London, but it still had the quirks and character that we loved so much.

There is a delicious aroma of tomatoes and oregano coming from our kitchen, causing my stomach to growl. After taking off my coat and boots, I walk over to our small kitchen.

Wearing sweatpants and a jumper, stood Harry. The sounds of some indie band blasts throughout our kitchen as he sings off key and stirs whatever it is that he's making.

"Smells delicious in here."

Harry jumped slightly, his head whipping quickly to look over his shoulder. "Fuck, you scared me," he says through a grin. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I'm not surprised. It's like a concert in here." I turn down the music to a decent volume. "Better."

Harry places the wooden spoon down on the counter and turns the boiler to low. I watch as he walks towards me, his arms pulling me closer to his chest as he leaves a kiss to my forehead. "Missed you today."

"You say that every day."

"Doesn't mean I don't mean it," he replies with a smirk. "How was therapy?"