How Could You?

Chapter 2

Harry's P.O.V

When I arrived back at my flat, alone of course, my temper just got the best of me. You may think that I shouldn't be angry, and that it's all my fault, but I'm not angry about the fact she left me (Well I am, but-), I'm angry because I let this happen. I let this happen to myself, not anyone else, not the woman, in which she was dragged into this, that lay in my bed as she was used out of no temporarily good reason, selfishness.

It happened so quickly, she just came in on the act of me with another woman unexpectedly leaving without a single word, but a single tear. 

The images of her crying, the other woman looking frightened and grabbing her garments and other clothing in a hurry to escape the unkown banter unravelling in front of her.

I grabbed an antique vase, containing an aging rose, and threw it against the wall in pure anger and frustrtion. 

This is all my fault, this is all my fault... All my fault. 

And it's all because of me.

I shouldn't the right to be angry, or frustrated, or sad but- She was my everything, kept me in line, prevented me from doing the worse in life and just guided me through the best and the worst. The worst part about this was that she wasn't just a one-night stand, in which case she was supposed to be when we met, no she was the one for me.

A person who another would call their beloved, their other half. The love of their life.

I'm so fucking ashamed to say that I, Harry Edward Milward Styles, have just betrayed the love of my life with another woman.

And when my rampage of destroying fading China, and aging wood, I slid down one of the many walls in the large house I was stuck in, my breathng ragged and unstable, tears threatening to pass the barriers of my eye lids- Those three words floated in my mind, those three words that crushed my heart when she turned and left without another utter to be said;

"How could you?"

Oh baby, how I wish I knew.