FINE LINE | HARRY STYLES

FORTY-SIX.

NOVEMBER, 2019. CONT.

Does he not love me anymore?

Was I not enough?

Why couldn't he look at me?

Why did he fucking do this to me?

I thought he wanted to try and he wouldn't ever give up on us. He said it himself in Paris.

Paris is cursed. Fuck Paris.

Fuck love. Fuck feelings. Fuck him. Fuck everything.

I could say that as much as I want. I could scream at the sky and curse him for life. I could call him and tell him he's a piece of shit. I could tell myself he's nothing to me. That he's dead to me.

But nothing will ever change the fact that no matter what he does to me, I'll still love him like the day I first realized it.

That man is my life. He's all I've ever known what love was since I was 20 fucking years old. Everything after him was just to simply pass the time.

Because deep down, I knew we'd end up together. I told myself he was the one because I knew he was. I could already see the wedding and the kids and the lazy Sundays where he's in the backyard running around with them as I make them ants on a fucking log without the ants because he hates raisins and I'm sure they'd hate anything their father hates.

I saw a life with him. A whole future. I saw a house in the middle of damn near nowhere so we can have a life to ourselves. I saw myself sitting backstage at his shows so pregnant that I could give birth on sight, but still dancing and screaming the lyrics. I saw us holding each other before his last and final show before he hangs it all up to spend the rest of his life with me. With us.

I saw it all. With him. Everything I wanted to build, he was the one I wanted by my side. And I'd be by his.

But nothing hurts more than a dream that won't come true.

Because I'm here, and he's not.

-

"You know, you look pretty good." Benny attempts, sending me his usual bright smile.

I glare at him from my spot on the couch. I've been on this damn couch for probably a week now. Only really getting up to change my clothes or take a shower in case Harry decides to show up in the rain one night and kiss me like in the movies.

It's slowly come to my attention that this isn't like the movies.

"You're annoying." I grumble, hugging the decorative pillow closer to me.

Harry bought this one because it had cherries all over it.

"You're so nice!" He says as he disappears into the kitchen.

When he returns, he's holding a mug of something steaming which I can only assume is coffee. He hands it to me and sure enough, it is.

I sit up and take it from his hand, giving him room to sit beside me. He lets out a small sigh as I sip on the warm liquid, it being the only thing I've had in a while.