invasato [h.s]

24

5 new voicemails from Isaac.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I'll do anything to make it up to you...please call me back."

4 new voicemails.

"Elaina, honey. I know I fucked up, and I know you must hate me...but please. Please—I...fuck—let me talk to you.

3.

"I fucking know I'm the worst fiancé ever. I know, okay. I admit it, does that make you happy? Elaina please."

2.

"I can't handle you ignoring me, baby. C'mon...please pick up the phone. You know how much I l-love you. I promise what happened meant nothing. It was a drunk mistake. Please answer me."

Letting the voicemails play out on my phone sitting on my bed in front of me, I rub my temples in grief.

He sounds so hurt, as if he wasn't the one who kissed another girl. But, he also sounds so guilty...and sorry. Or maybe he's scared he'll lose me.

Regardless of how he feels, my head is spinning and I'm at a loss of what to do.

Do I call him? I'm scared he'll do something stupid.

With a sigh of helplessness, I lift my head and play the final voicemail. He left it nearly an hour ago.

"I get it. You need time, I'll back off." his voice is calmer now, but I can still hear the sorrow. "I'll be by my phone all night. Just remember, we love each other, El. We'll get through this."

And then it ends.

I sit there, staring ahead at my wall. I don't know what to do...what to think even.

Was I just...not enough for him? Was he bored of me?

Maybe it's my fault for leaving Denver. This wouldn't have happened if I stayed there with him. We'd be married by now probably. I'd have a whole new life.

But no. I'm here. Cheated on and terrified for my life because two people want me dead.

It's Tuesday morning. Yesterday, after the coffee shop, Harry took me back to mine and Zayn's villa. Not a word was spoken between us. The entire mood was shifted after I found him smoking outside and I have no idea why.

He's so tough to navigate. I don't know what makes him pissed off, and I don't know what makes him neutral. I know he hates me, but yesterday made me feel like maybe things were turning around.

I've never had anyone hate me. I love it when people like me...and that's why I'm so annoyed that I can't get him to budge.

A knock on my door makes me gather my thoughts unwillingly fast, sitting up from my slouching position and running a hand through my hair.

"Come in."

Zayn walks in, dressed for the day in a blue dress shirt and black dress pants. In his hand, he holds a cup of fruit.

"Fresh fruit. You want some?" he asks.

I nod, giving him a half smile as he walks over to my bed. He hands me the cup full of blueberries, strawberries, and some melon.