More than Friends | HARRY STYLES FIC

Chapter Eleven

Laura's P.O.V

I haven't been able to sleep or eat properly in three days. My eyes burn and beg for rest, and my stomach yells at me desperately, but I ignore any urge. I can't find comfort here anymore. I feel like a stranger in my own home. It doesn't help that Jared hasn't spoken to me since our argument after Harry left the other night. He admitted that he wasn't in Atlanta, but maintained I have nothing to worry about. I wanted to ask where he had been, who he was with and what he was really doing, but the way he was yelling frightened me. Maybe I was being stupid and overly emotional, like he said I was. Maybe I was being dramatic. I just know that even if that's the case it feels like there is no love left in him anymore. 

I drag myself down the stairs, silk housecoat draped over my back and hair in a messy bun. I pour myself a tea and watch from the back window as he lights a smoke on the deck. He quit smoking years ago, so seeing him start up again only confirms that things are a lot different now. He takes a deep puff and looks over his shoulder at me, eyes cold as he walks towards the back door. The glass slides open and I smile nervously. 

"I made you tea," I say, placing it down at the kitchen table. I see this gesture as somewhat of a peace offering, an acknowledgment that I'm wrong not to trust him. And in a way, I'm hoping it will relieve the guilt I feel for doing the things I accused him of. 

"Thanks," he replies without so much as a smile. He takes the glass and walks past me up the stairs. I sit down at the table and stare out the window wondering how we got here, how I went from being so in love to slipping in and out of bed with Harry. I know I have no one to blame but myself. Jared didn't ask me to be unfaithful, he didn't do anything to deserve all of these secrets. He's shown me nothing but love and commitment.

Jared emerges in the kitchen wearing his dress shirt and tie, briefcase in hand. I stand up from my seat and follow him to the door, hand rubbing his lower back the entire way. He slips into his shoes and then stands there looking at me, one hand on the door knob. I close my eyes and lean in to give him a kiss, but he moves and my lips press against his cheek instead. He stares at me once more before slipping out the door without saying another word. This has been our routine for the past three days. This has become our new normal. And to make matters worse, he comes home late every night and slides into bed, his back towards me. He doesn't say hello, he doesn't hug or kiss me, instead he acts like I'm not even there. It's killing me.

The worst part about all of it is that I feel so alone. I haven't anyone to speak too. Not my parents. Not Jared. Not Harry. Everything feels cold and empty. I feel small and weak. All I've done is sit in my room, running through everything I've done wrong in my head, crying and then doing it all over again, and today will be no different.

I carry a bottle of wine in my hand as I drag my feet towards the stairs, ignoring the tears as they fall down my face. I dread climbing them, I have been far too drained these past few days. Just as I reach the halfway point, I hear the front door open behind me - perhaps Jared has decided to put this all in the past.

"Did you forget something?" I say, turning around with a forced smile on my face. I drop the bottle onto the carpeted steps. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Laura, just listen please," Harry pleads, hands in front of him cautiously. His hair looks unkempt and eyes circled in darkness. 

"You need to leave," I raise my voice, stepping back as he moves forward.

"Don't, Laura. I just want to talk."

"I don't want too. Jared's right, you're trying to ruin us and it's working, so just leave," I cry, sitting down on a step and resting my face in my palms feeling defeated.