Living with Styles

twenty-five

*Bella's POV*

My fault?

It's my fault?!

It's not my fault my own mother died in front of my eyes. It's not my fault I don't have the strength to get over it. It's not my fault that Harry left.
It's. Not. My. Fault.

-

"Bella?" A familiar female voice says.

"Who is it?" I sniff. I haven't talked to anyone in a week. The five month anniversary is coming up.

"It's Perrie." Now I recognize her. "May I come in?" She asks.

"Uh, sure." I start clearing up the pictures.

Perrie walks in with a slight smile on her face. She wears a colorful, flouncy dress, her hair in a fancy up do, and bright pink lipstick on her beautiful lips.

"I thought you could use a friend." She sits next to me on the edge of the bed.
"We do care about you, you know. Every single one of us."

"Oh please." I snap. "You all just pity me."

She shakes her head. "We do not just pity you, Bella. We care about you. We care about you a lot. You need to see that."

I lay back on my bed, my feet dangling over the side.

"Zayn and I are going out for dinner tonight." She states after a few moments of silence. "Would you like to join us?"

I shake my head. "No, but thanks for the offer."

Perrie forces a smile. "Alright. I'll be off then." She stands up and embraces me in a side hug. "We all love and care about you, Bell. Remember that."

Yeah, sure.

-

"Hey, Bella?" Harry knocks on my door. "May I come in?"

I cringe at the use of my nickname coming from Harry's mouth.

No. I don't want to talk to you, let alone look at you.

"Fine."

Harry walks in and stands in front of my bed.

He's wearing the same thing as when he got here, 5 months ago. A red flannel, tight black jeans, and boots. The only difference is that he doesn't have sunglasses on and he's not chewing spearmint gum.

"Bella." He says.

"It's Isabella." I hiss through gritted teeth.

"Whatever." He crosses his arms. "That's not important right now."

I roll my eyes. "What do you want?" I huff.

"I want to say that I'm sorry."

He wants to...apologize?

"For what?" I reply, shifting my position to Indian style.

He uncrosses his arms and sits on my bed. He looks me in the eye. "For everything. I'm sorry that I'm such an idiot and, uh, and a douche. And I'm sorry that I made your life miserable. And I'm sorry about that one time when we played Go Fish and I won." I furrow my brow and he forces the smallest chuckle. "I cheated. I'm sorry. But I'm the most sorry for leaving. I really, truly am. I see now that mom needed me. I've regretted leaving ever since you had your first outburst. But I can't change the past, and I'm sorry."

Tears start to fill his eyes and are already streaming out of mine.

I didn't expect this. I expected him to come in here and ask what I wanted for dinner or something. I'm not ready to forgive him.

I look up at Harry, who's staring at me with dark emerald green eyes. I close my eyes and turn away from his gaze.

I want to forgive him. I just don't have the strength to get it out of my mouth. I can't do it. I'm not ready.

Harry gets up and sits next to me on the bed. He wraps his large arms around me and embraces me in a hug. It's the first genuine hug Harry and I have ever shared together since he came back. And it's very comforting.

His broken curls tickle my forehead as we sit there, crying.

I don't know what we're both crying about. Maybe it's about mom. Maybe it's about the heartfelt apology. Maybe it's about Harry leaving for 13 years and coming back to help raise me. Maybe it's all of the above.

"Bella?" Harry finally says. "What happened?"

I know exactly what he's talking about. What happened on the night of mom's death?

"I understand-"

I stand up abruptly, cutting him off. "No. You don't understand. I watched my own mother die, right in front of my eyes." I almost start yelling.

Harry just looks at me.

I calm down and take slow, deep breaths. I sit back down on the bed and begin.

"It was the night of March 23. We had spent that day and the day before at the beach, but it started storming..."