Protector ~ H.S

~Chapter Thirty-Five~

A/N: Ugh...I'm so sorry for the wait, guys. Honestly, I don't know where my time is going these days. But I finally got a chapter done :) I don't really like the ending though. It seems a little rushed to me. 

Every minute passed by like an hour.

Every hour passed by like a day.

Every day passed by like a week.

And every week passed by like a year.

It had been three and a half weeks since I ended things with Harry.

For two weeks he tried to keep in some contact. When I didn't answer any of his calls, he would send a text or leave a voicemail telling me that he just wanted to know how I was. But since I had never replied or returned his calls, he got the message and just left me alone.

As I laid there on my bed that late afternoon, I turned to my bedside table and saw my phone resting on top of it – not exactly knowing what I was expecting as I glanced over at it. Biting my lip, I reached out and took my phone with a soft sigh – unlocking it and opening my messages before letting my thumb hover over my text conversation with Harry.

Our messages should've been gone ages ago. But I just couldn't find it in my heart to delete the entire conversation. I had never deleted my conversation with Harry from my messages, ever. And now, even though things are over between us...I still couldn't do it – because even when I miraculously manage to bring up the delete button, I'd just burst into tears and throw my phone away somewhere.

With a shaky sigh, I tapped on our conversation – my bottom lip trembling and my eyes feeling wet as I scanned them across the last thing Harry had sent to me before he finally just stopped trying. He had so much to say, that he had to separate it all into three different texts just to stop it from turning into a multimedia message.

(1) Angélique...obviously you don't want to talk to me. And I honestly don't blame you at all. So...this is going to be the very last thing I'll say, and then I won't bother you ever again.

'Sorry' doesn't even begin to express what I want to say to you, Angélique. I know I hurt you – I hurt you so, so bad – and I don't even know what the fuck I was thinking anymore. I should've tried harder to get a proper job. All that desperation and all that money Jackson waved in my face weakened me...and I don't think I'll ever get over that. I should've just ignored all of it, I know. The more I think about it, the more I wonder if I was even in the right mindset that day I accepted that stupid job. That job was the one reason why I lost you, and now that you're gone...all I have left are these stupid fucking fights...and it's all just clinging to me like some sort of disease. It's nothing but a curse to me now, Angélique...because my only reason for being there is gone. But that's entirely on me. I got myself into this mess. I can't possibly blame you for anything...except for giving me what I deserved.

(2) I think about you all the time. I miss you all the time...but I fully deserve to lose you after what I did. What Jackson did to you...was the very reason for that horrible day when I saw your head dunked in that bathtub...hanging on to whatever was left of your life by a thread. And I agreed to work for that asshole. I can't believe it. I'm ashamed of myself, Angélique. Totally and utterly ashamed. And I'll never forget the look on your face when I first saw you at the arena. What I did to you was the last thing you deserved. I've been holding on to the hope that we can still be friends one day, maybe...but now I don't even think I'm entitled to that. And the last thing I'll say, Angel – since I'm pretty sure I've sent you a whole fucking MMS already...is I hope, more than anything, that someone out there who truly deserves you would give you all the happiness in the world...because you're worth it. More than anything, you deserve someone who can truly make you happy. Way more than I did.