I Carry Your Heart [Harry Styles]

Chapter 13

Present Day -Harry

I pull into my driveway in London and opening the electric gate, I stare mindlessly in front of me. I have no idea how I managed to check out of the hotel and then drive the two hours back into the city. I must have done it on autopilot, but I had to get out of Rye.

I turn off the car in front of my garage, and sit, unable to move. My mind running over what happened this morning; finding out I have a fucking kid and the boiling, seething anger I feel towards Millie for what she did.

Without warning there is a loud knock on the car window, and I look up startled at Felicity, standing with Jack on her hip. I called her on the way and asked her to meet me here, she has a set of my keys, so must have let herself in.

I blink a couple of times, and then robotically climb out the car and stare at her.

"Harry what the fuck love? What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost, you are as white as a sheet. Was it something with your dad? Fuck I shouldn't have pressured you to go back there" she babbles.

She guides me into the house and we walk into the kitchen where she puts Jack carefully into his carrier and starts to make me tea.

"I don't think tea is gonna cut it Fel" I say as I grab a bottle of vodka, which I pour into a glass, and take a sip, straight. The burn as it goes down my throat immediately makes me feel calmer.

"H, What happened?" she asks again, fiddling nervously.

"It...it wasn't anything with my dad" I stutter.

She nods and I go on "Um I never told you a lot about when I was growing up. I tried not to think about it much to be honest. You know my dad wasn't great, actually things were always pretty shit at home and a constant struggle with his drinking and money and stuff. Um, then when I was sixteen, I met this girl and we fell in love or I thought we did, her name was Millie, or actually Camilla but I always called her Rose or Millie. We were really young but it was so fucking intense, it felt so real, you know the kind of love that great poets write about, the kind of love that burnt so bright it was terrifying. She was my everything for two years, the first positive thing in my life and I couldn't believe she loved me, a poor kid with a fucked-up childhood. But fuck she supported and believed in me, especially with music. She constantly fought in my corner and pushed me to get out of Rye, made it her mission. Rose, the song was about her, I wrote it when I was sixteen".

I stop talking, trying to order my thoughts and I take a few big gulps of vodka, still trying to calm my nerves. I watch as Fel feeds Jack, and I feel a deep rage again, thinking I missed so much with Rory.

Felicity looks back up at me, and I carry on "When I turned eighteen, I left Rye and came here. Our plan was that she would get out as soon as she turned eighteen too, she was a year younger than me, and go to Oxford University, she was so smart Fel. We would both leave the town and be together. She was also from a pretty shit family; fucking rich snobs who never showed her any love, not once".

"We were gonna get out together" I repeat "and build a life. Now I know it was just a dream cooked up by two stupid kids with a childish infatuation".

Felicity nods and reaches over and takes a sip of my drink, scrunching her face up at the taste.

"I called her constantly for a few weeks and things seemed fine, until about a month after I left when Millie phoned me. I knew straightaway something was wrong, she sounded different, so cold. She broke it off and that was it, we were done"

I take a few more sips and pour myself another drink, I can see Fel isn't happy with me drinking so much, but she doesn't say anything.

"I had no idea what happened to her, but I just assumed she returned to her parents fucked up world, went to Oxford and that she had some big successful career or would eventually end up married to some wealthy titled asshole. I tried not to dwell on her, ever".