Her Name Was Marty (Niall Horan)

xii

previously...

“What are you saying here Mar?” He asks, and once again, I speak with caution because I have no idea what I’m saying, or how it could affect us.

“Maybe it’s time we went back to reality. Go home. Figure out how everything will happen and see what kind of damage control needs to be made.” I pause, “I mean, today has been one of the best days I’ve had for months. No, the best day. I think our holiday has reached its peak, don’t you? And I don’t want to be scrambling trying to find something fun to do to make the holiday seem boring. I want to always be able to remember this holiday with you as the best time of my life so far. So maybe it’s time to go home.” I pause before I say my final word, and I’m still not sure what they mean to me or to him. “And then we can move on.”

xii:

I’d always found packing up a hard thing to do. Whether it was when I moved out of my family home at the age of 18, ready to make a name for myself. That was hard. I had to box up the things I was taking, deciding on the things that got left behind and put into storage, and what I was to throw away. My entire life was sorted into three categories, when I wanted everything to stay the same, but I had to move on. It was the same when I’d decided to move in with Riley. We choose his flat because it had more space, but that meant that we’d be living off his stuff, and where would my stuff go? Again, I had to decide what I needed, what he couldn’t take away from me, everything was divided up into their categories. Yet this was different, this time I was packing away my clothes, and the memories that came along with them. Be it the bikini I was wearing the first time I kissed him, or one of his t-shirts that I’d managed to steal away without him noticing. This wasn’t boxing things up to throw away or never see again. This was moving on from this place and new memories I’d made with Niall. All happy memories that I didn’t want to remember, I wanted to still be living them.

“Are you packed? They want us to check out by 12.” I looked at the tiny watch on my wrist, we had ten minutes. I didn’t respond to Niall, looking down at my neat packing into the suitcase.

Why couldn’t my life be this neat and organized?

“Marty.” He prompts again; I lean over and zip up the bag, lifting it up once I’m finished to show it to Niall, and then grab my handbag, walking out of the bedroom before he can say another word to me.

I wait for him outside of our hotel room, holding open the door and when I see him coming out, I look down; I can barely even look at him. It hurts to look at him.

“Gonna miss this place.” He mutters, maybe it’s to me, or maybe it’s to himself. Either way, I don’t reply.

I’m going to miss you. Is what I want to say, but I’m too scared of his response if I told him that.

We go down the lift in silence. We walk to the reception in silence. There is even silence as we check in, Niall taking the lead on that. And I only just realise what he’s doing when he’s already put his credit card into the machine to pay for our time here.

“Wait, can you split the cost in half?” I ask the woman on the desk, who just so happens to be the same woman who had checked us in all those many days ago.

“Too late.” Niall says smugly, but he doesn’t even look at me as he says it, he only takes his card out and places it back in his wallet.

“What time is your flight?” She asks us.

“3 o’clock.” Niall replies. “Can you give us a number for a taxi please?” The receptionist insists that she’ll call the taxi for us, and invites us to sit on the seats. Niall thanks her, whilst I follow him in silence. When we sit, Niall takes out his phone and begins to type. I copy him, to busy myself , otherwise I’d be waiting forever for the silence to be broken.