Falling for Harry Styles

Chapter 59

I was sat on the bed in the room I never use anymore, watching Gemma dutifully fold clothes and neatly tuck them into her bag with various other items. My eyes mindlessly trailed her figure as she flitted around, grabbing things here and there and tossing them in with the rest. “Will you please stop looking like someone killed your cat? I’m only going home.”

“But home is three hours away,” I whined. “It’s just been nice havin’ you round; ‘M gonna miss you is all.”

Her smile was sweet as she came over and sat next to me on the bed. She squeezed me into a small side hug before pulling away with an understanding expression and a pat to my back. “I know, Lee.”

I sucked in a small little gasp and I hoped that along with the shock wasn’t evident on my face. I felt my stomach drop and my heart throb with pain. She removed herself from the bed, seamlessly oblivious to my situation at hand, and I watched silently as she continued. I felt it slowly creeping back, the constricting, stabbing, weighing pain in my chest. It was almost as if it was that first night again and all the progress I’ve made in the last few months was nonexistent. Gemma was completely unsuspecting as she continued packing, rambling about something, but she sounded too far off, like she was calling to me from across a lake.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I vaguely remember bidding Gemma farewell as she left. I remember lying face down in the bed, clutching Harry’s pillow to my chest as I sobbed uncontrollably. I barely recall Harry coming home, not suspecting a thing, and changing before we made the journey to the club. I didn’t want Harry to know, not now, not when we were going out to have a good time with our friends. I wasn’t going to burden him with my problems. I was sober the first time we pushed through the doors of the club, I didn’t plan to be the next.

We made our way to the table and I forced a smile to the people that could fill the gap, but I realized now that they would never be able to replace her. I hid a cringe of discomfort as my stomach turned and Harry tried to usher me into the booth. I shook my head slightly, trying for a carefree light smile, as I leaned into him. “I’m going to grab a drink first.”

“Want me to come with you?”

“No Hazza, I’ll be fine. Do you want something?”

“Pint please,” he flashed a toothy grin as he made the plea. I felt my heart warm the slightest bit as I nodded.

I made my way to the bar, leaning over the counter seeking out the tender. She smiled at me as she came towards me. She was a middle aged woman and looked way too pretty to be a bar tender. “What can I get for you honey?”

My tongue peeked out and swiped along my lips before I replied, “Two vodka shots to start.” I paused and waited until they were set in front of me to continue. “A pint and a Shirley Temple as well, extra vodka in that if possible,” I slammed back one of the shots after I had finished.

“One of those days then?” I’m sure her goal was to sound sympathetic, but to me it just sounded like her leering at my misery.

“Something like that,” I grumbled as I shot back the other.