Yellow || hs au

| 98 |

—

   My knuckles rest against my temple, holding my head up as I stare out the window of Sarah's office, a place that somehow has turned into my only safe space. I chew the inside of my cheek, my eyebrows furrowed deeply as I stare out at the gloomy earth outside. The sky is dark and rain hasn't stopped falling since this morning. It's convenient, honestly. It's like the cycle is starting all over again. They didn't lie when they said that history repeats itself.

   I clench my jaw tightly, gently tracing my finger tips up and down my leg, the material of my leggings is soft to the touch. My knees are tucked against my chest, my back resting against the arm of the couch that I've sat on many, many times before this. My eyes flutter closed, my bottom lip trembling as I lean my forehead into my palms. I suck in a sharp breath, annoyed that I can't even make it through my therapy session without crying.

   "What's upsetting you?" Sarah asks after a moment. My eyes reopen timidly, my vision hazy with tears as I wipe them with the edge of my hoodie sleeve. Swallowing hard, I glance back out the window. The raindrops race down the window, the sky lighting with thunder that rumbles loudly. "What part of this is affecting you most, Clover?" She questions again, my eyes shifting over to meet her gaze. She's sat across from me in an identical arm chair, one leg crossed over the other with her usual notebook on her knee.

   I shrug with a sigh. "He cheated on me." I mutter softly, wiping beneath my eyes once again, clearing away the sticky tears. "But for some unknown reason, I still love him. I love him and hate him." I try explain, my eyes focused deeply on the ring on my finger. I draw in a heavy breath, allowing it to deflate my chest before I look over at Sarah. She watches me through the thick lenses of her glasses, the end of her pen tapping lightly against her notebook. "I shouldn't want to still love him, right?" I ask softly, finding her gaze through my glassy eyes.

   "It's not wrong for you to feel that way about him still, because at the end of the day, he's still the love of your life." She voices after a moment, my lips rolling into my mouth. "But, that doesn't excuse his actions." She adds on easily, staring back at me with her head tilted to the side. I don't say anything back, not having any idea on what to say. "I really think you need to hear him out though, Clover." She counters, a soft sigh escaping my lips as I drop my gaze down to my knees, my hands resting on top of them.

   I haven't heard from Harry in two days, last time we talked was when he told me that he cheated on me. I didn't stay long after the fact, I couldn't. I couldn't stand there, watching him break down, and frankly, I didn't want to. He's walked over me too many times for me to just stand there, and tell him that it's okay and that I forgive him. I don't. I don't forgive him. I waited around for him, for six months. I didn't even spare another man a glance, let alone have sex with someone else. But he did, completely sober and not in rehab. Rehab wasn't even in the picture in July. Not as if it's an excuse, had he been sober or not. But maybe it would've given me some sort of peace. It's awful, I know, but knowing that he wasn't technically in his right mind when he did it, would've maybe made it easier to hear. But he was. He knew what he was doing. He was sober.

   "I don't want to hear the details on how he got bored of me and moved on." I mutter with a clipped tone. Sarah sighs and leans back into her chair, watching me with lowered eyes. I know she's just trying to help me, and we both know that when I talk about things, I always end up feeling better. But the moment I even try to talk about this, it hurts all over again. It hurts just as bad as it did three days ago. Maybe even worse.

In the moment, when Harry told me, I thought he was trying to be funny. I genuinely thought that he was making a joke, because what kind of person cheats on the person they love? I wanted to laugh and shake my head at him, and tell him to shut up. But the look on his face, it was so distraught and filled with so much disappointment. Then I felt bad. For a split second, I felt bad for him. Why? I don't know, I wish I did. Maybe it was the look on his face that made it near impossible, in that exact moment, to feel anything but bad.