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6 - It's Okay.. Like Seriously

"So you're breaking up with me..?" I ask.

He rearranges the loose papers from his way too big desk and puts them in color coded folders before he sighs.

"No.. I'm not breaking up with you, we're married so I don't think it works like that anymore," he says. I groan. So if we weren't married then he would have for sure broken up with me.

And that thought chilled me.

He sighs again. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.

"I'd just like to walk around my own home.. Without having to see you.. And thinking of what.. What you did," he says, unable to even look at me.

"You mean killing our child? Because that's exactly what you want to say right?!"

Harry makes prayer hands and looks up at the ceiling as if he was asking God to come and strike him down right then and there.

"See, I hate when you do this," he says through gritted teeth.

"Hate when I do what? Say what you don't have the guts to say? Because Harry this is getting really really pathetic," I huff.

It had been 3 weeks. 3 entire weeks, and this was the first conversation Harry and I had without someone barging out of the room, or screaming at the top of their lungs.

I was wearing a large sweater to cover my already growing baby bump. And it hid me very well, I guess Harry was just convinced I was gaining weight.

But this time.. This time I was completely sure that if I left that he would not want me to come back. I don't know how I knew this information, but the feeling crept on me like a chilling bucket of ice.

"Harry I- You should know that I didn't-"

"Paris please.. Please just don't say anything else, because I'm finding it very hard to even be civil with you," he says.

He looks at me for the first time in 3 weeks. His face was pained and his eyes were glossed over.

"Please.. Just don't hurt me anymore, If you really love me, you'll leave now," he says, this time, his eyes not leaving mine.

"And then what?" I say, my voice cracking. It felt like everything that I had done, everything that we went through was all a waste. Like this past year and a half had just been a tester. Preparing us for what we would eventually have to endure. It certainly didn't prepare me enough for what he was about to say next.

"Then nothing.. Right now I can't even see a future with you, every time I think of you I feel like seriously strangling someone. And Paris, when I tell you I've never felt this angry in my entire life I mean it. I don't want to look at you, I don't want to think of you, I don't want to spend every waking moment in my life thinking about how things could have been if you hadn't been so selfish. I do not want you right now, and maybe that will change in the future, and maybe it won't, but you'll know when I ring you. Whether that be tomorrow. Next week, next month, or next year."

I felt like all of the air inside of my lungs had been squeezed out, and someone had ripped out my heart and stomped it completely flat.

"Okay," I manage to say, even though it pained me. I walk to the door, each step feeling like I was walking away from the best person I had ever met.

I slowly turn the door knob and open the door.

"Paris," I hear him say. A sudden feeling of hope ignites inside of me and I turn.

"Shut the door behind you," he says, eyes still glued to his papers. I nod and close the door behind me just like he had instructed me.

I walk down the endless steps of Buckingham Palace, this was truly a beautiful place. That I would probably never see again.

A chauffeur, dressed in all black is waiting for me outside. I slowly enter the vehicle and sit inside .

It feels like hours go by before we arrive at our destination.

"Your flat is on the tenth floor, door 3B, its completely refurbished, closets are filled with clothes, refrigerator is stocked, call me if you need anything," he says.

I nod and manage to muster a smile. Atleast he cared enough to get me a nice place to stay, and ensuring that I would not starve.

I check in and soon enough i'm in the elevator. I would save my crying for when I got into my new flat. I knew it would be a big cry because my lips were practically trembling.

"Hold please!" someone yells from down the hallway. I quickly stick my feet in between the elevator doors.

The woman smiles at me, and someone who may be her brother is trailing behind her. In fact he looked strangely familiar. They're both carrying a mini fridge, and a lamp.

"You alright?" she asks.

It takes me a moment before I realize she's talking to me.

"Um yeah.. Good," I smile, this time it being genuine.

"Kathleen, Kat for short," the woman says freeing her hand and reaching out for mine.

I shake it politely.

"P-London" I say in an almost perfect London accent.

Her brother's eyebrows scrunch together and he chuckles.

Kathleen joins him.

"Couldn't get anymore patriotic than that," Kathleen says in between breathy laughs.

I fake laugh.

"This is my brother Niall," she says gesturing to who I knew to be her brother.

"Hi," he says simply. His eyes were a gorgeous blue and his dirty blonde hair was piled messily atop his head.

"Hello," I say.

Once we reach floor ten I walk out and they follow behind me.

"What flat are you in?" Niall asks in a thick irish accent.

"Um 3B," I say.

He nods. In fact our flats were right next to eachother. And for some reason this made me feel a little bit more comfortable. Like maybe this would be okay. Like maybe I would be okay.

"Good night!" I call out behind me.

"Night!" Niall yells back.

I would be okay.