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* p r e s e n t *
"No fuckin' way. You'll be back together by the end of the week," Mick said to Harlow the next morning, shaking his head firmly. Corey had gone off to some meetings he had to be at that morning, and Harlow had called Mick, not particularly wanting to be alone. She shook her head.
"This was different. It was different than it's ever been before. He was just so empty. I've never seen him so completely empty," she told him, her hands wrapped around a cup of warm coffee he'd brought her. She hadn't even taken a sip of it yet, but the warmth was one of the only things keeping her from falling apart somehow.
"Just call him, Harlow. You've been together, what, ten years now or some shit? Don't be a baby and call him. Hell, go over there. It's your house too, you know," Mick said, the bluntness and realness of his tone comforting to her. Most people were sort of put off by Mick's rough demeanor, but Harlow had always reveled in it. She loved knowing he was going to be honest with her no matter what they were talking about. It was refreshing.
"Yeah, I know it's my house too. I just... I really think I should give him some space," she said, and Mick scoffed.
"You two are the most married unmarried people I've ever known. Fuck giving him space. Take a shower, get dressed, and go over there and make his ass sorry he even considered dumping you. This is Jim we're talking about here. Jim, the same guy who fucking pined after you for years before you got together. Jim, the same guy who would walk through fire just to get you a fucking cheeseburger if you asked him to. You know he isn't actually checked out. You pissed him off. So what? You piss me off every fuckin' day and you're never moping around and being a little shit over that," Mick shrugged, taking a deep drink of his own coffee. "If you're not going to drink the fuckin' $6 coffee I bought you, I'm drinking it myself."
She smirked, taking a drink and letting the hot liquid slide down her throat as she considered what he'd said.
"I should go over there, shouldn't I?" she asked, and Mick nodded and rolled his eyes.
"Of course you should."
•••••
An hour later, Harlow had showered and driven over to the house she and Jim shared. Both his car and his motorcycle were in the driveway, so the odds were pretty good that he was home. She got off of her own motorcycle, taking off her helmet and shaking out her hair before walking to the front door.
She was nervous as she walked to the front door of her own house that she shared with the person she was more comfortable with than anyone else in the world. It was a strange sensation, one she didn't care for at all.
She pushed open the front door, immediately aware that Jim wasn't alone in the house. She heard his voice at once, but it was accompanied with another that was decidedly female. She listened for a few more moments, desperate to realize she recognized the voice but eventually settling on the fact that she didn't.
Rage rose inside of her like smoke and her hands shook as she walked towards the living room. Jim was standing in front of a giant book shelf that housed all of their DVDs and there was a woman on the couch that, as expected, Harlow didn't recognize. Jim's eyes flew up, connecting with Harlow's. He was immediately talking, stepping towards her. She was so mad that she couldn't make out what he was saying and didn't even really try to.
The woman on the couch looked at her blankly, not saying a word. Jim closed the gap between them, grabbing Harlow by both of her forearms and shoving her backwards, something he knew from experience was one of the only ways to get her to let up when she was this angry. Her eyes met him, ice cold and full of too many emotions to even begin naming them.
"Let's go downstairs, Harlow," Jim said quietly, and Harlow knew it was because he was sure she was about to start screaming at him and the studio was soundproof. He'd managed to get her into the kitchen and she stopped, planting her feet.
"No, James, I don't think I want to go downstairs. I want to know what the fuck's going on," she hollered, trying and failing miserably to keep her voice steady.
"Listen to me, Harlow. I broke up with you last night. I don't have to explain anything to you," he told her, and she closed her eyes, her breath coming in ragged puffs from her nose like a bull.
"I came to fucking apologize to you! I came to tell you I was an asshole and I was wrong! I came to tell you I loved your dumb ass enough to admit that I was being a dick and apologize! I came to fucking tell you I was devastated at the idea of losing you, that you're my entire world and I don't know how to live without you! I came to be vulnerable, to share, like you always fucking want me to! And this, THIS, is what I walk into? In my own fucking house?! Seriously? Don't forget that I did pay for half of this fucking house, you prick," Harlow ranted, pacing back and forth across the kitchen as she did so. She lifted a nearby glass off of the counter and chucked it at Jim and he, without even thinking about it, dodged it easily, which just pissed Harlow off more.
"Are you done now?" Jim asked, and Harlow scoffed and picked up two more glasses, both of which he also dodged. "You should go. We'll talk eventually, but I don't think either of us are going to get anything from it right now. Also, the only reason you're the one that left and I'm the one that stayed is because you're much more comfortable with Corey than you are here alone. We both know that. We both know that I'd leave in a second if you really wanted to stay here," Jim explained to her, his voice infuriatingly calm.
She wanted to throttle him, more and more pissed by the second that he was turning her away again and also endlessly annoyed that he was absolutely correct. There was no way she wanted to stay in their house alone. At the end of the day she knew he probably didn't really either, but it was just another one of those instances of him looking out for her even when he claimed he didn't want to be anymore.
"Peach," she whispered, tears rising to her eyes with the nickname that she hadn't called him in the longest time. Much of her rage melted away and was replaced by pure despondence. A sob escaped her lips and she shook her head. "Don't."
He nodded slowly.
"We need time. We do. I don't know what's going to happen, but right now I know we need time."
In that moment, everything else melted away. It didn't matter that they'd broken up. It didn't matter there was another woman in the next room. It didn't matter that seconds before she'd been so mad at him that she could barely think. All that mattered was the tears in his eyes and the sobs that were shaking her. She reached for him, shaking her head.
"Please, just... I'll go, okay? Just love me for one more second," she pleaded. "Please, Peach."
He obliged almost immediately, pulling her into a hug. Tears fell from his eyes and into her hair and she squeezed him, contemplating the likelihood of never letting him go. He broke the embrace a few moments later, much too soon.
She turned, taking steps toward the front door and not letting herself look back at him. She knew if she did, she'd have an even harder time leaving. As soon as the front door closed firmly behind her, she collapsed onto the porch and pulled out her cell phone.
"M-M-Mick," she stuttered into the phone as soon as he answered. She was sobbing harder than she ever remembered doing so and felt like it was going to be nearly impossible for her to get anymore words out. Thankfully, Mick filled in the gaps for her.
"Do you need a ride?" he asked her, and she mumbled something similar to a 'yes'. "You at your place?" Another mumbled 'mhm'. "Okay. I'll be right there."
