The ending of Sarah and Harry's story, will they or won't they?
It has been five years since Harry and Sarah have seen each other. Sarah is now 29 and she is happily living in New York and pursuing her career. Harry is now 30 and he is living in Ho...
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Harry and I end up staying later than everyone else on Friday night, our midday road trip setting us back for a few hours. My neck aches as I read over another manuscript, my momentum back even as I'm still thinking about anything but manuscripts.
Elouise left an hour ago, letting me know that I'd have the apartment all to myself tonight. I'm guessing that she'll be at Roberts tonight, that she's with him because they're jumping back into this thing without even thinking about the consequences.
My neck feels the remnants of Harry's lips all afternoon, my fingers going up to feel the slight marks he's left behind. Luckily Elouise didn't notice them, but every time I run my hand over one, I'm reminded.
I am also reminded of the fact that Harry has a fiancé, a girl to call his own waiting back at home. I'm nothing to him, nothing more than a mistake he just made. He's already promised that nothing like that would ever happen again, that we'll never get that again.
I'd told Harry that I understood, that in my mind, everything had made complete sense. Now as I analyze and rethink the situation over and over again in my head I can't seem to find any reason as to why I'd understand anything. He'd loved me once, maybe he could love me again.
I shake the idiotic thought from my head, reminding myself that after today nothing could ever happen between us again. They were his exact words, his promise to me. He's promising himself the same thing, the same reason to stay away.
I begin to wonder what he's thinking, if he's as torn up as I am about this all. Maybe his mind is completely at ease, or maybe he's pacing back and forth trying to figure out how to survive this all. Maybe we just should've never kisses at all.
The small desk lamp in my office dimly lights the room, the light being bright enough just for me to read the last few pages. It's already dark outside, our hours stretched out far longer on a Friday afternoon than anyone else's. People are out now, being free and partying to their heart's content.
I wish I could be free like the rest of them down there, like the happy people who are smiling behind a martini glass. Now I'll never be that person, not while I'm still carrying this luggage on my back. Corey is still manipulating my life, even as he's officially not in it anymore.
I stand up from my chair and walk over to the window, the city lights shining over at me. They illuminate the office slightly, the soft yellow color looking beautiful as it splays over my arm. I move through the lights, just observing as it covers different parts of my arm as I move.
The city is loud below us, the sight of people laughing loudly and happily making me smile. There had been a time where going out felt like a routine, a good one though. There had been a time when I used to just live for me, when the person I loved didn't mind coming out with me even on his bad days.
Seeing what Corey has done to the apartment today just made me want to run and tell everyone what he did, how he silently broke me. Part of me feels as though it's wrong that I'm so calm, that I'm not so broken down and afraid to live. But then I remember that I've had five years to deal with it, to push it all down. Pushing it all away was killing me, and now that I've told people closest to me, I feel more alive than I ever did before.
