The Fatal Flaw | LT

VII

"Happy Birthday!" we all shouted the moment Niall stepped into the bar. By "we," I meant Greg, Denise, Theo, Maura, Bobby, and me. His friends had taken him out for the afternoon, leaving me to spend the day with Denise, shopping and baking. It felt like I had known her for far longer than just a day, but I wasn't complaining—or olaganonin', as the Irish would say.

This trip had been the perfect distraction from uni stress and the never-ending drama with Louis and the Barbie girls. Of course, I knew reality would come crashing down the moment I returned home—Harry included. He had been calling non-stop since I landed, but I had decided to shut the world out, leaving my phone on airplane mode. Even then, my inbox overflowed with pictures of me, Niall, and his family. I wanted to soak up every moment of this trip, so I made sure to capture countless memories.

Tomorrow, Niall and I—well, mostly me with him as the tour guide—would be driving around Galway and staying the night before heading back to his family for a final farewell. Our flight was at seven in the evening, and I wasn't ready to say goodbye.

"Get ready to be langered, lass!" Greg grinned, raising his pint, and I could only laugh, feeling lighter than I had in weeks.

—

"I hate goodbyes." I pouted as I hugged Denise tightly. Niall's family had insisted on giving us a ride to the airport, making the farewell even harder.

"Well, I hate 'em too, but it's not like this'll be your last visit, yeah?" Greg smirked, lacing his fingers through Denise's.

"Definitely not. This country is beautiful. I'd love to come back and see more of it."

"Yeah, you should. You only managed to get to Galway," he pointed out, and I smiled, already reminiscing about our little adventure.

"Hopefully next time, I can do a full tour."

"You better." Maura winked as she squeezed my hand.

With one last wave, we finally pulled away, bags slung over our shoulders. Ireland had been more than just a trip—it had been an escape, a home away from home. And I was chuffed to have been here.

As we settled into our seats, I turned to Niall, the weight of our impending departure settling in. "Thank you for bringing me here, Niall."

He smiled, his blue eyes warm. "Anytime, Venus."

For the short thirty-minute flight, I tried not to let my mind wander back to the mess waiting for me in Manchester.

—

"I'll message you tomorrow, yeah?" Niall pulled me in for a hug before stepping back.

I nodded and sighed as I turned on my phone the moment I entered the elevator. The familiar ping of notifications began echoing through the small space, one after the other, relentless and overwhelming. I gaped at my screen—hundreds of voicemails and texts flooded my inbox.

My stomach tightened.

Mom. Harry. Gemma. Perrie. Louis.

Why was Louis texting me?

I scrolled through the messages with a growing sense of unease. Mom's texts were the usual—checking in, hoping I had a safe flight. Gemma, on the other hand, was scolding me for going off the grid. But the majority of my notifications were from Harry, demanding I answer my phone. He even resorted to capital letters, making it painfully clear he was furious.

I sighed and pressed call.

He picked up on the first ring.

"Glad to know your phone still works."