𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑! | harry styles

𝐗𝐕

I haven't ever cried like this. Never.

I hate crying. It's such an immature thing to do. Normal adults handle their pain and move on. Normal adults get back to work and don't make a big deal out of things. Normal adults don't get in over their heads with things they can't handle.

But I'm not an adult.

I'm a twenty-two year old child who assumed she could jump into a fantasy without thinking about the consequences.

So I cry about it. For three whole days I cry.

But I deserve to cry. "The Other Woman" should be the one in pain. I don't deserve any condolences or check-up telephone calls. I brought this upon myself.

After Harry leaves me to wallow in the crowded restaurant, I get out of Boston as quick as I can. I have to get away from places that make me think of him or how he treated me. Immaturely, I ran.

I book the first flight to Seattle and spend the hours trying to compose myself.

That was three days ago.

I've never really minded my hometown. It was a place Carl loved, and I found myself wanting to be closer to him as I got older. He would fly me out here sometimes to just rest during my breaks.

His large house sits on a beautiful lake and provides me with a place to get away from it all. It's private and quiet. Running away might not be the best option, but it's the quickest one I could think of at the time.

After another day or so, my tears begin to dry, even though I'm still upset. It feels like my life is shattered. My heart doesn't beat right. I'm not whole. All those cliché things I only read about in books have actually invaded my life.

It's early morning. Really early morning. The sun has just barely risen and fog rolls over the lake in an eerie manner that reminds me of a ghost story. It's silent around me except for a few bugs that reside in the surrounding forest.

I'm wrapped in a fluffy blanket that Carl bought me for my sixteenth birthday. He said it was to keep me warm during those "freezing Swiss nights". He was always so caring and kind. I just wish I could have told him that when he was alive. But having his blanket around my shoulders provides me a lot of comfort. I'm sure he would have liked that.

I breathe out through my nose and try not to think about what I left behind in Boston. Harry. His kids. My house and job. I would be back. Soon probably, because I know I can't stay here very long. I just need a break.

My cellphone rings and I fumble around inside my blanket, trying to find it.

"Hello, Phoebe," I answer.

"Alyssa, I just don't get you. Why the hell aren't you in Boston?"

"I told you. I just needed... to get away."

"Well, I'm worried about you."

"Don't be. I'll be fine."

Of course, she knows about what happened with Harry. I told her everything and she listened without interrupting once, which is a rarity for her.

"You're not cutting yourself, are you?"

"God, Phoebe, no. I'm just resting a little." I cover myself up from the chill in the air. "Why are you calling so early? It's five in the morning."

"Maybe over there, but in Philly it's eight. I'm eating breakfast. What are you doing up so early?"

"Just thinking."

"You're so helpless. I'm coming up there."

"No, Phoebe! Please don't inconvenience yourself."

"I'm your older sister and you need my help. I'm coming. Don't argue with me."