MARIGOLD |H.S. AU|

CHAPTER FIVE

First part of a double update beauties ;) ENJOY!!

It's been a week since I bumped into Harry outside my Dad's office.

I still don't know why he was there, and I didn't get the chance to ask him. Before I could say anything, Rosie picked up the phone and by the time I'd finished explaining things to her, Harry was gone.

It was weird to see him there, but I guess he has work here, it's not unrealistic to see him here, and although it was 3am I didn't really think much of it.

Not seeing him for a week was weird. He texted me and told me he didn't need me for the other shoots, and that he only needed a few shots from the other models anyway. That wasn't usual. I knew I wasn't going to be in every shot he took. Harry had a lot of me already anyway. I cannot wait to see the pictures.

There was talk of them being put on a billboard on a few streets and tube stations throughout London, and I am telling you, if that happens, I will shit my pants.

It still feels too good to be true, like I'm living in some sort of dream.

I am so thankful to Harry, but he also confuses the fuck out of me. And I can't figure out what to do or how I feel about it. It's uncomfortable.

This past week has been harder than usual, Dad's breakdown was different to the others, there was less anger, and more vulnerability. I don't know if that's a step in the right direction, but I knew this was always going to be a slow process.

He was having some sort of anxiety attack, and it had been happening for around 3 years now. The first year without Mum he was in denial, his brain didn't let him process exactly what happened, and then one day it just hit him, and they started.

The first day I found him in his office, I broke down. I didn't know what to do, and it was so painful seeing him in so much pain. He didn't know what was happening to him either and it took us both time to come to terms with it, that it's something that will keep happening until he decides to face everything himself.

I find it weird sometimes, consciously knowing that the denial he had for the first year is what I'm still going through. My Mum was the most important person and kept the family as close as it was. At least I can thank her for that now as I don't know what me and Dad would've done now if she didn't help establish that close-knit relationship for us.

I know I'm in denial, that's what's different to the usual signs of denial in these stages of grief. I have a weird coping mechanism when it comes to my emotions. I ignore them. I push them to the back of my mind and focus on other things and distract myself.

I know that one day I will have to come to terms with the loss of my Mum, but I'm just not ready for that yet, and for now I'm fine with helping my Dad and letting the denial manage my own grief for the time being.

That night, I took him to the hotel he has become so fond of, after Rosie booked the room for the next few days. I put him in the back of the car, and I got the car to take him there and followed on my motorcycle.

I took him up to his room and made sure I had the spare room key, in case he needed me to come and see him again. I made sure he showered, and I got him into bed, before driving back to his office to pick up clothes and toiletries for him. I let myself back in the room and placed down the bags.

My Dad was sleeping, good. I could hear his light snores echoing through the room. He never sleeps, it's like he's scared of waking up and facing the reality. Like every new day is a new challenge, or another reminder of what he's lost. Whoever said time heals pain, was talking fucking bullshit. If anything, I think things hurt more with time, as you realise just how miserable your life is without them, you feel guilty as you lose certain memories and details that were once so clear in your mind. Sometimes I sit and feel so guilty because I can't remember what my Mum's voice sounds like or I can't remember what her hugs felt like. Over time, everything just feels worse.