Gardens Of Eden (A Harry Styles Story)

49. Isn't She Lovely?

I returned home from my date still floating on cloud nine. When I saw the light under Danielle's door, excited flooded through me. 

Exactly as I pictured it, we laid on her bed talking about every detail of the night.

Harry loved me, and hearing him whisper it in the dark had changed everything. As flawed as we were, he made my walls feel like speed bumps. Every fear and every failure that had haunted me in the night dissipated when it was just us two, and his reassurance had given me the strength to grow through it, instead of suffocating under the weight.

For the next few days, luck seemed to stay on my side. It was amazing how life could change so drastically, go from being so confusing and uncertain to suddenly feeling like I was landing in all the right places at just the right times.

A wildly fortunate introduction at the modelling agency lead me to finding an investor for my youth home project, a magazine editor named Abigail Hedley. In one short conversation, I was telling this stranger about my dream of opening a safe house for orphaned teens, which lead to her taking me for lunch. She explained that she had been through the foster care system herself as a young teen, and she'd had to overcome one obstacle after another in order to find success, but she'd done it to prove everyone wrong, earning first her business degree, then her journalism degree. I found her story fascinating, and we clicked instantly.

I left that lunch with a to-do list the length of my forearm, and from there, every spare second I had went into researching budgets, certificates and permits. The biggest hurdle was going to be finding a permanent location. It needed to be private and safe, but spacious. I even started bookmarking houses for rent that seemed to have potential.

I looked at the calendar on the kitchen wall. Red and blue pen scribbles told me that Danielle was meeting her first designer today, a huge deal for her, and my only commitment was to get my criminal record from the police station. Apparently, if you wanted to give orphans a place to live, family services wanted to make sure you weren't a felon.

I chewed my croissant as I speed walked from the bus stop to the glass double doors at the station. I hadn't been to the police station since I'd been arrested, and I wasn't eager to return. I walked up to the counter and knocked on the glass window. 

"Hello, my name is Eve... I'm wondering if I can get a copy of my criminal record?" I smiled politely, hoping it would be a quick process.

The cop looked at me as he typed my name into the computer. I tapped my foot nervously. When his eyes narrowed slightly, an awkward air passed over me. 

"You were recently arrested?" He stated blankly.

"Yes, but it was just for questioning. I wasn't actually involved-"

"Wait here please." He cut me off, swivelling in his chair and walking out of sight. I sighed anxiously. 

Ten minutes passed, giving me time to look at every counselling, drug and addiction brochure sitting out before the officer came back. He didn't address me as I looked at him expectantly, and a second later the door on my right opened up. 

"Officer Myers." I said, surprised. His hard gaze landed on me and he stopped, unreadable. 

"Eve." He acknowledged. I shook his hand politely, fighting off the strange feeling that I'd done something wrong. 

"Is everything okay?"

"Of course. I was listed as the responding officer for your arrest. I just came out to say hello. How have you been?" He had a very direct stare, very unnerving, and it made my awkwardness stand out even more than normal.