Broken Hearted Love {Book 2}

Chapter 13

“And I, I can’t come alive. I want the room to take me under cause I can’t help but wonder what if I had one more night for goodbye? If you’re not here to turn the lights off, I can’t sleep. These four walls and me.” – These Four Walls by Little Mix

Chapter 13

Christy’s POV

I stopped in the all-too-familiar hallway. The same smudged windows lined the walls, revealing the bright outside world. The normally calming wall color gave me nervous anxiety and the sweat began to form on my palms. What was I doing? Me seeing Harry was only going to make things worse.

What on earth was I doing? This was never going to fix anything.

“Mikey,” I choked, feeling my heart beat against my chest. “I don’t think I can do this.”

Mikey spun around, his shoulders slightly tense and his eyes full of panic and pain.

“What do you mean? You promised me, Christy.” He sternly reminded me, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides.

“I know, but Mikey, this isn’t going to help him. It’s just make us both broken hearted. It’s not going to help him. If anything, it will make him drink himself to death even faster. I don’t think I can watch that.” My voice died down to a whisper as I spoke my last words. The weight sitting on of my chest was the feeling of my heart slowly ripping more and more as I realized Harry was just down the hall. He was in this building. He was on this floor.

“Christy, you’ll never know if you don’t try.” He whispered, slipping his hand in mine, smiling at me reassuringly, and pulling me down the hallway and closer to apartment 4B.

His hand wrapped around the door knob and I could feel my breathing increase. My head was pounding with the possibilities of what could happen in there. What would he say? What would he look like? Bad or good? Would he forgive me and let me go? Or would he fight until he was dead to keep me from leaving again?

As the door opened, I held my breath, staring in saddened awe as I looked around disarrayed apartment that was we once called ours. The furniture was thrown all the around the living room. The only light was the knocked over lamp in the corner, flickering in and out with a crack in the bulb.

“Oh my god,” I gasped quietly, sounding like a whisper, as I placed my hand over my mouth in astonishment. “What happened in here?”

“Like I said, Harry isn't doing well. He went into about an hour rampage when you left, breaking and throwing anything he could. It was actually heartbreaking to watch.” His eyes didn’t meet mine as he told me.

Instead of replying, I walked into the bedroom, seeing the mattress we used to sleep on together flipped over onto its side, leaning against the window.

“So where is he?” I choked, turning around to a concerned-looking Mikey. He didn’t say anything. He just pointed me into the direction. I tip toed slowly to the bathroom. What did he look like? Mikey said he had to prepare me for what he looked like. Was he that bad? Did I break him that much?

The bathroom was dark; the shades covering the glass window. Liquor bottles scattered the floors and bathtub. Then I saw him. His curled up, sleeping form laid in the bathtub, drowning in the surplus of bottles. His face was hidden in the crook of his elbow while his hand rested behind his head. I could barely see the rise and fall of his chest. Oh god…

I couldn’t get my feet to move, gripping the edge of the sink for support. Mikey pushed past me, kneeling beside Harry.

“Harry,” Mikey shook his shoulder. “Harry, wake up.”