Chapter 43
I had no idea what happened in the next ten minutes. I could only remember Perrie yelling after me as I ran out of the room, but then it was completely blank. My mind shut down, refusing to think, refusing to feel anything. I felt completely numb. Every common sense left my brain, and maybe that was why I was driving way past the speed limit to Harry's house.
The traffic was quite busy too, so it surprised me that I hadn't crashed yet. I wasn't even sure if I would have reacted if I did because I wasn't present at all. At this point, I should have driven off the road a long time ago, especially by the way I was shaking, my hands barely holding the wheel while my heart was pounding in my chest.
I could tell I was about to hyperventilate, something I hadn't done in years. It was ridiculous. A thing like this should be a piece of cake. I had seen a lot of pictures of Harry with girls back in the days, and I knew all of them were just for publicity.
The thing was, I recognized this girl from the pictures taken of him leaving different clubs when we were falling out. She was the girl I had been so insecure about back then, the girl he had been seen with many times, and the same fucking girl he told me he cheated on me with.
And their appearance in the picture didn't leave much to the imagination. The way Harry was running a hand through his completely disheveled, long locks with bags under his eyes, and how her makeup was smeared all over her face, her hair not looking much better than his, made it clear what was going on.
How was I supposed to think anything but the obvious?
A loud honk snapped me back to reality, and I made a sharp turn to get back on my side of the road when I noticed I was about to run right into the oncoming car. Fuck. The last thing I needed right now was to get involved in an accident.
The shock didn't subside until I was parking the car in the driveway of Harry's house, but that was the only feeling that left my body. The numbness was still there, and the sickness was building up by the second.
It wasn't until I opened the door of the familiar house, the house I had grown to love all over again, that the emotions started to kick in.
Instead of feeling sad and heartbroken about what was going on, I could feel frustration build up inside me, soaring through my veins. It didn't get better when I stepped into the living room and saw the pictures of me and Harry hanging on the walls so fucking innocently. I wanted to tear them down, rip them to pieces with my bare hands. The thought was almost too tempting, but instead, I found myself throwing my car keys at the white wall next to the picture of us at the beach in California, shouting out in frustration.
"Fuck this stupid shit!"
I then left the room, exhaling a shaky breath as I made my way upstairs, refusing to think about when I had carried Harry up these stairs only a couple of weeks ago. The memory seemed so far away right now.
As soon as I stepped into the bedroom I usually spent the nights in these days, I threw open the closet door and pulled out every garment I recognized as my own, tossing them onto the bed. I couldn't care less that his stuff went all over the place in the process, and just kept rummaging through the space.
I then bent down to pull out my bag from under the bed and started pushing the clothes into it, not giving a shit about them getting wrinkled. After that, I went into the bathroom across the hallway to fetch my toiletries, making sure to grab my perfume this time because fuck, he didn't deserve to keep anything that was mine.
It wasn't until I made my way downstairs and entered the kitchen that I could feel my heart clench in my chest as if someone was twisting a knife in it, and it was all because of the sight in front of me.
Three years ago, I had been sitting on that same chair at the same kitchen table, waiting for Harry to come home so that I could tell him I was leaving. And fuck, it hurt. It hurt that I was basically in the same situation now, only that I wasn't doing it willingly this time.
Swallowing back the tears threatening to spill, I grabbed Clifford's food bowls and poured the water in the sink. I then searched the kitchen for anything else that was mine but with no success. I hadn't had time to bring much over yet, which may be good now.
Deciding not to stay longer than necessary, I started walking towards the living room to fetch my car keys, but that was when the sound of the door handle being turned was heard, causing me to freeze on the spot.
Only a few seconds later, Harry's concerned voice filled the house, making my heart clench even more.
"Louis? Perrie told me you left in a hurry. She said I should follow you since it was because of something important."
I was gripping the food bowls so tightly that my knuckles were turning white. I wasn't prepared to face him. Not now. I needed to breathe. I needed to think, especially now that my head was about to start working again. I couldn't do this.
"Louis, what are yo-" He stopped mid-sentence when he caught sight of me, standing in the middle of the kitchen with my bag slung over my shoulder and the food bowls in my hands, probably looking like a dear caught in the headlights.
His eyes widened in fear as he stopped abruptly in the doorway. "What's... what's going on?" He asked warily, swallowing as he eyed me from head to toe.
I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out. It didn't make matters better that he looked so extremely attractive in his black Columbia hoodie, which I had been wearing just as much as him lately, his curls more luscious than usual on top of his head. It made me want to cry.
Collecting myself, I fumbled to get my phone out of my track pants with shaking hands. I quickly unlocked it and went onto Twitter. It only took me a second to find the picture because Perrie was right. It was all over the platform. "You tell me what is going on," I said hoarsely, extending my shaking hand with the screen facing him.
He took five long strides into the room so that he was standing two feet away from me and looked down at the phone. His face drained from all its color within a second, going completely white as he stared at the picture in horror.
"Louis, it's not..." He trailed off, his voice barely a whisper now.
Feeling almost desperate, I looked at him pleadingly. "Just... please tell me it's not real. Tell me you were never there with her," I practically begged, feeling how my knees were giving out.
He shook his head, looking as though he had been physically hurt, his features crumbling. "I... can't."
A strange noise escaped my lips as I stared at him, feeling how my entire world was falling apart. I couldn't handle this. It was too much. I already knew that the picture wasn't fake, but hearing him confirm it was even worse. I was pretty sure I had never felt this betrayed in my life. It was even worse than hearing him say he cheated on me because now, on top of that, he had been lying to me all this time as well.
"You... can't," I repeated in an echo. "You lied to me. Fuck, why would you do that? Were you so regretful about it? That you couldn't even tell me the truth?"
I was sure I sounded more and more desperate, but I just didn't understand. Why would he do this?
He shook his head quickly, running a hand through his curls while taking a shaky breath. "No, God no. Louis, please. I know it looks bad, but-"
"But what?" I asked, feeling empty with emotions. "I'm pretty sure nothing you say will make this situation any better. I just... I can't do this right now. I need to breathe," I said, pulling at the roots of my hair as I breathed heavily through my nose.
My heart was pounding in my chest, beating so frantically that I was almost sure it would burst. My throat felt thick, tears threatening to fall, and it didn't make matters better that Harry looked completely heartbroken in front of me, his eyes filled with panic.
I made a move to walk past him to the living room, but he reached out to grab my arm, making me come to a halt. "Please don't leave," he pleaded, tightening his grip as he bored his eyes into mine.
Looking down at his hand, I swallowed. I didn't want to leave. Hell, the last thing in the world I wanted was to leave him, but I couldn't stay here. I needed to be alone. I needed to think, and I couldn't do that when he was around. Just seeing him right now made me want to burst into tears.
I reached up to unclasp his hand around my bicep, letting it drop to his side. When my eyes met his again, I noticed that he looked like he had been slapped in the face. He looked so incredibly hurt that I wanted to wrap my arms around him. Every single muscle in my body was pleading for me to do so, but my brain was yelling at me not to. He wasn't the one who needed to be comforted right now.
"I need to go," I said monotonously, turning around to jog to the living room so that I could fetch my car keys.
I could hear him let out a strangled noise as I left, which was why it didn't surprise me when I found him standing in the hallway when I got there. His cheeks were now flushing red, a few tears rolling down. Seeing him so hurt made it a lot more difficult to leave. I just didn't understand why he looked so affected when he was the one who had cheated and lied to me all this time.
"Can we please talk about this?" Despite looking the way he did, his voice was calm and pleading but also a little shaky.
I furrowed my brows. "There's nothing to talk about, Harry. I already know what I need to know," I replied emotionlessly, knowing I wasn't showing what I was actually feeling. I could tell it only made him more upset.
With my bag on my shoulder, the food bowls and car keys in my hands, I walked to the door and turned the handle. Without looking back, I took a step outside, ready to shut the door behind me when he called out one last thing.
"You know I would never cheat on you, Louis."
The door closed behind me, leaving me to walk towards my car, but I didn't do it with the same determination as I thought I would. My strides were hesitant, my heart racing in my chest while his words went on repeat in my head.
"You know I would never cheat on you, Louis."
My mind slowly started working again, and it didn't stop when I finally made it to my car, getting inside and shutting the door behind me. It was already getting dark outside despite only being around three in the afternoon, the sun standing low in the sky. It was chilly as well, so I quickly started the engine to turn up the heat.
It wasn't until then I noticed that Harry's car was parked right behind mine, making it impossible for me to get out of the driveway without running into it.
I slumped in my seat with a sigh, throwing my head back against the headrest, feeling defeated. It was the perfect moment to finally process what had happened the last few hours, though.
The picture was still fresh in my mind, the way everything about it was so obvious. It was almost as if it was meant to cause drama. Not just for us but for every fan out there since there was no news that many people were interested in knowing about Harry's love life. Therefore, pictures like this were never published if someone hadn't approved them.
And that someone was not Harry. It was obvious by the way he had reacted when he saw it. However, that didn't mean the story behind it didn't happen. The picture was still real. Harry had even confirmed it himself. The fact that he had even tried to deny what was so obviously going on made me frustrated, but it also made me think about the alternative.
I was pulled back in time to the bathroom in Ibiza when Harry followed me, and I accused him of having cheated on me. His reaction hadn't left my mind for days after that evening. He looked like he had just been punched in the face. Those were my exact thoughts. But why did he look like that if what I accused him of was true?
It made me think of the first time I visited his house after leaving him three years ago, when he first said the words, "I never cheated on you, Louis." I hadn't even hesitated to believe him, and why would I? There was no reason for him to lie to me. We barely talked at the time. He didn't even want anything to do with me. He was just honest, as though it had been eating him up inside for ages and couldn't wait any longer to tell me.
Now that I thought about it, these two incidents weren't the only times he had convinced me that he had never been with anyone else when he was together with me. The memories washed over me, one by one, taking me back in time, reminding me of the man I had once fallen in love with.
"Date, Louis. I can't fucking date."
"You're the only one I want to do it with. It always has, and it always will be."
"I was quite heartbroken when we broke up. I didn't do much more than stay in bed when we had nothing to attend with the band. I was... hoping you would come back, and I figured if I left the house, you wouldn't know where to find me."
"You're the only person in this world who's capable of breaking me to the point where I can no longer see a reason to keep living. When you left me, I felt so much mental pain that I was sure I was going to fucking die. I remember lying in bed praying every day that you would come back and tell me it was a joke, that you would never even think of leaving me, but you never did."
The last memory made my heart clench. He had worn his heart on his sleeve, something he always did when he wasn't trying to be someone he wasn't. He had never been one to lie. He was always honest, even at times he didn't want to be. The only time he had lied to me was the night I left him.
"I thought it was obvious. I thought you would understand it was a lie."
If it weren't for the fact that I had been so vulnerable, having seen the pictures of him and that blonde girl leaving different clubs those nights, and having Simon tell me he would leave me for someone else one day, then maybe I would have been able to see through him. Maybe I would have known he was lying when he told me he had cheated on me.
And the fact that he had admitted to being completely heartbroken when I left him made it even more obvious that he never was with this girl. He wouldn't have been so hurt if he had even thought of sleeping with someone else while still being with me. He wouldn't have cared as much as he did. Nick had even told me how hurt he was before I knew why he was so mad at me during the audition tour in Leeds.
"If it weren't for you, he would have been fine. He wouldn't be like this. I hope you're fucking happy."
And he did again only a few weeks ago.
"But you left him, Louis, and he was so fucking broken. It hurt so fucking much seeing him like that. I didn't know what to do about it. I just... I've always cared about him, and I swore I would never let anyone hurt him again."
It made me think of my and Harry's last few weeks together, how incredible they had been. I wanted things to always be like that, and I knew having him in my life was all I needed for that to be the case. He was all I ever wanted. No one else, nothing else. Only him.
I thought of when we looked at our old pictures together, how he had his arms around me the entire time, his chin resting on my shoulder gently. How content I had felt. How amazing it had been, as if no problems existed in the world whatsoever.
It reminded me again of what he told me that afternoon, that he never sold the house when we broke up because he had been waiting for me to come back.
"Since you've listened to some of my songs, you might already know that one of them is about how I felt at the time."
I hadn't listened to the song yet, but I couldn't help but feel like right now was the perfect opportunity to do so. It would let me know how he actually felt when I left him. No lies, no jokes, only the truth. Because I knew Harry would never write a song about something that wasn't true if it wasn't necessary, and he would never show his vulnerable side if he didn't mean the words in the song.
That was how I found myself connecting my phone to the car, going onto Spotify to type in his name in the search bar. I clicked on his album, realizing that I had no idea what the song was called, and I hadn't listened to enough of them to be able to make it out.
Biting my lip, I clicked the first song, hoping it would be the right one. It didn't take long for me to realize it was because the atmosphere of the tune gave it all away, the mysterious and slightly sad tone, but also the echo of his voice.
"Meet me in the hallway. Meet me in the hallway. I just left the bedroom, give me some morphine. Is there anymore to do?"
A large lump formed in my throat, making it almost impossible to swallow. There was something about the lyrics and his voice made me feel sick. It went right into my soul and into my heart, leaving a mark I was sure wouldn't go away for a while.
"Just let me know, I'll be at the door, at the door, hoping you'll come around. Just let me know I'll be on the floor, on the floor. Maybe we'll work it out. I gotta get better, gotta get better. I gotta get better, gotta get better. I gotta get better, gotta get better... and maybe we'll work it out."
I made another attempt at swallowing, but it didn't go any better this time. If anything, it was only getting worse every second the song kept playing. It hurt so much to hear how hopeful he had been about me coming back, about things getting better between us. I wished I had heard it a long time ago so that I would have known how he felt.
"I walked the streets all day, running with the thieves. 'Cause you left me in the hallway (give me some more), just take the pain away."
I could feel tears pooling in the corners of my eyes, threatening to roll down my cheeks. My heart was clenching, hurting by the sound of his voice and those lyrics. The way he managed to sound so vulnerable... I had never heard him sing like this before. It was so beautiful, yet hurtful at the same time.
And I understood what he meant when he said he had felt so much mental pain that he was almost sure he would die now. It was as though I could feel his pain through the song, and I couldn't help but be reminded of how I had felt at the time.
Because in all this mess, I had been heartbroken too, whether it was well-deserved or not. I left him after all, so maybe it was, but it was easy to forget that I still loved him when I left him. So, learning that he had cheated on me completely broke my heart. I didn't know it back then, but I knew now (and had done for some time) that he had been just as heartbroken as I was.
"We don't talk about it, it's something we don't do. 'Cause once you go without it, nothing else will do..."
The tears were now rolling down my cheeks, leaving a wet trail behind. I didn't even bother wiping them away because I was busy thinking about the song I had just listened to. I was aware that Harry was an amazing songwriter. He knew exactly how to convey emotions into the music and make the listener feel exactly how he felt. I had gotten the same feeling when I listened to 'If I Could Fly' for the first time.
And the fact that this song was about me made everything ten times worse. It made me feel incredibly guilty, knowing I had put him through so much pain, pain he never deserved to feel in the first place.
And if it wasn't already clear before, it definitely was now. Harry was not a cheater. He had never been, and I was sure he would never be either. All this time, I had gone around worrying that he would leave me for someone else, some blonde, pretty girl he could show off to the world. I had been worrying when there was nothing to worry about because Harry was in love with me, and he had been ever since he was 16 years old.
Yet here I was, running away from him again. I had been lucky enough to get him back once, but twice? I wasn't sure if I would be that lucky, and that possibility made me feel sick.
"Just promise me you won't hurt him again, Louis. Please."
Feeling my heart clench in my chest, I found myself exiting my car, shutting the door behind me. I jogged the way back up to the porch, opening the front door with a hammering heart, my cheeks still damp from the tears that had escaped my eyes earlier.
The sight I was met with inside the house made me regret running away even more. My hammering heart dropped to my stomach, my face draining from its color. I could feel every muscle in my body freeze for a second upon seeing Harry sitting on the floor, his back pressed against the wall across the room. He was gripping his shins tightly, as if he was scared he would break if he let go, silent tears rolling down his flushed cheeks, his curls a complete mess on top of his head.
The sight was heartbreaking. If this was anything like how he reacted when I left him last time, I wasn't sure if I would ever be able to forgive myself.
He looked up the second the door shut behind me while I kept focusing on his features, his posture, feeling my heart break inside. I wasn't sure if he was more taken aback by the fact that the door closed or the fact that I was standing only a few feet away from him, frozen in place.
He blinked once, twice, three times as his mouth fell open. "Wha-"
Before he could finish whatever he was about to say, I put my muscles into action and walked over to him, bending down so that I was kneeling in front of his figure. Without saying anything, I reached out to take his face in my hands, caressing his soft cheeks with my thumbs while looking him in the eyes.
Meanwhile, he stayed completely still, not moving a limb as he looked at me in shock, his plump lips still parted. I could feel my face crumbling more every second I watched him, the guilt eating me alive on the inside. I had never seen him so hurt before, and I absolutely despised the fact that I was the one who had caused it.
So, I did the only thing I felt as though I could do; I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. It wasn't very comfortable, seeing as he still had his arms wrapped around his shins, and he made no attempt to reciprocate it, his muscles only tensing under my touch.
However, when he noticed I wasn't going to let go anytime soon and only hugged him tighter, burrowing my nose into the crook of his neck, he went pliant. He unclasped his hands from his legs and spread his knees to let me fall into him. I went easily, letting our chests press together as he tentatively laced his arms around my waist.
Something inside me snapped then, as if it dawned on me what was happening, and I could feel silent tears roll down my cheeks where I was burrowing my face in his neck, my heart racing in my chest. I was pretty sure he could feel the salty tears land on his skin, but I didn't put much thought into it.
I couldn't believe I had been about to make the same mistake I had made three years ago without even acknowledging it. I felt so awful about it that I wanted to crawl into myself.
Harry tightened his hold around my body, and it seemed as though things were slowly dawning on him too. His body started to tremble against mine, his breathing getting uneven as he pressed his lips against my shoulder.
We stayed like that for a long time, holding each other while letting everything out. It felt amazing. It felt like coming home, as if I belonged there in his arms. I never wanted to let go, almost afraid of what would happen if I were to do so.
I eventually did anyway, but only to be able to look at his features. I cradled his face in my hands, keeping him close enough to feel every breath he inhaled and exhaled but far enough to see his facial expression.
"I promise I never cheated on you, Louis," he whispered, sounding weak.
My face scrunched up in pain, not because of what I felt, but because of what I had just put him through. "I know."
He furrowed his brows in confusion, averting his eyes from mine. His face quickly turned hurt, and he started moving in my hold as if he wanted to escape. "Then why did you-"
Letting out a sigh, I shook my head. "I didn't know before I... ran out. I realized it when I let myself think about it," I explained, biting my lip.
His cheeks were damp from the tears that had escaped his eyes earlier, his cheeks still flushing a bright red. Nonetheless, he looked beautiful and so vulnerable, his face still showing confusion as he refused to meet my eyes.
"Think about it?" He asked, finally looking up at me.
I let my thumb slide over the skin where I knew a dimple would show if he curled his lips. "Yeah," I replied, flashing him another faint smile. "I was reminded by all the times you have convinced me you never did, and if that didn't make it obvious enough, I... I listened to the song you wrote about our breakup." I paused to shake my head.
"It reminded me so much of the pain you told me plenty of times you went through, and it made me realize even more that you couldn't have cheated on me. Then the awful possibility that you might not take me back again hit me, and it made me feel sick inside because I can't fucking live without you, Harry."
A sad smile formed on his lips, his lashes fluttering slightly. "If it isn't already obvious, I can't live without you either. The mere thought of you leaving me completely breaks me. Please don't ever do that again. I don't know if I can handle it," he mumbled, his brows furrowing.
My thumb was still running over his soft skin as I shook my head, looking at him with sad eyes. "I'm so sorry for making you believe I was, and it kills me to say that I probably would have if my thoughts didn't stop me and your car wasn't parked behind mine. I wish I would have let myself think about it before I walked out the door."
He looked up then, his features still showing how hurt he was. "You wouldn't even let me explain."
Feeling guilt build up inside me again, I looked at him sadly. "I know."
"You just... left, and I couldn't do anything about it," he finished, tears pooling in his eyes.
"I'm so sorry," I said weakly, feeling so guilty that I couldn't keep looking him in the eyes. "I was so sure because that picture... It was her, and I didn't... It was like that evening was repeating itself all over again, and I couldn't fucking think straight. Harry, please just... tell me what was happening in that picture."
I was looking into his green eyes again, and they were so green, greener than usual. It was mesmerizing, and I found myself not being able to look away from him.
"I wanted to tell you before you left that yes, we both were out clubbing the night before the picture was taken, and yes, we were staying at the same hotel. The picture is completely real, but we never stayed in the same room. I barely even knew the girl. She was just attending the same clubs as me, most likely to get noticed. I'm sure she was a fan. I have no idea how she always found out where I was, though, but the paps obviously liked the fact that there was a girl in my presence, and so did the publishers, so they always snapped pictures of us when I was leaving and she was following me," he explained, swallowing.
"I probably should have brought a bodyguard when I went out, I know, but I didn't care at the time because I was a mess about the fact that you were avoiding me. Then one night, she followed me to this hotel. I didn't go home because I couldn't find it in me to face you when you would barely even look at me, and I didn't know she was there until I left the next morning and this picture was taken. She really tried her best to make it look like we had slept together, when in reality, I had barely acknowledged her. And fuck, I know I shouldn't have mentioned her when I told you I had cheated on you. It's the stupidest mistake I've ever made. I shouldn't even have told you I cheated in the first place because I know it's had a large impact on you, and you still have trust issues about it. I just wish you knew that I could never do that to you. I love you so fucking much, and I always have. There hasn't been a second since I fell in love with you eight years ago that I haven't been in love with you."
His words made my throat clog, and I found myself swallowing to make the lump go away, but it was to no avail. Hearing him say those words was a lot better than hearing them in my mind earlier. I knew it was true, but it hit so much deeper when he said it.
"I'm in love with you too, Hazza."
My lips curled after calling him the nickname I gave him all those years ago, and judging by the slightly shocked look on his face, he wasn't really expecting it. But then it turned into a look of fondness. "Did you just call me what I think you called me?"
A light chuckle escaped my lips. "Just kiss me, love."
He didn't need to be told twice. He leaned into my touch, pushing himself off the wall to connect our lips in a firing kiss. My hands instantly went to grip the back of his neck as he traveled his to my hips, his large hands holding them in place.
Our lips kept moving together, almost desperately. He alternated between nipping at my bottom lip and sliding his tongue along it. That was until I had enough and parted my lips to let his tongue slip inside and rub against my own.
My hands traveled up to curl around his hair, tugging at the locks as his hands went under my sweatshirt to touch my naked skin.
I wasn't sure how long we kissed, but we both pulled away to breathe after a while, his face still close enough for our noses to touch. "Promise me you won't leave me again, Lou," he pleaded, closing his eyes momentarily.
"I'll stay for as long as you want me," I promised, tucking his fringe behind his ear.
A smile formed on his slightly swollen lips. "I'll always want you, Lou."
"Forever then," I said, my lips curling. "I'll stay forever."
My words made me receive another deep kiss from the man I was head over heels in love with, and it felt amazing knowing he loved me just as much in return.
It wasn't until we parted several minutes later that I let my mind start processing what had happened today and why. Why was the picture published now, three years after the incident? And who had allowed it to be published in the first place?
To me, there was only one given answer.
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Phew. What a rollercoaster of a chapter. Still one of my favorite chapters, though. I hope you liked it!
It's been a week since Harryween and I still haven't processed it. He took me completely by surprise, and I loved it so much. So amazing to see that he always dresses exactly how he wants to x
Only 2 more chapters + the epilogue left now guys! Crazy!
Edited by: butterflies151
Pauline .xx
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