Office Hours |h.s|

seventy two

Maude

Two in the morning, I pull on a Harvard sweatshirt, my Uggs, and Harry's pink beanie. Very quietly, I slip out of my room and tip-toe my way down the stairs. I cross my arms over my chest as the cold winter air hits me.

Harry's car waits outside the apartment. After hours of not returning his texts or calls, I finally turned my phone back on and decided I have to face the reality of this situation. He wanted to talk in person about the whole Niall situation. My heart pounds as I approach his car, opening the passenger's door and slipping in. As soon as I'm buckled, he drives off, most likely headed to this one spot we found that is secluded.

"You okay?" His voice is gruff as he effortlessly navigates the empty streets. His elbow rests against the car door, his fingers tugging and twisting at his bottom lip as he glances over at me.

"No, H."

How could I be okay? In less than an hour this entire relationship blew up.

He hums, continuing to drive in silence. He always gets quiet when things are about to go wrong. I shouldn't be surprised though, since everything has already gone wrong. Looking down at my hands, I pick at the skin around my nails, anxiously waiting for him to park the car and finally break the news to me.

Sometimes, our relationship feels like the ultimate cosmic joke. Harry and I meet at the supermarket and flirt over apples, and a week later he's walking into my class announcing himself as my professor. He hates my family, but he loves me. We shouldn't work, and the world has tried so many times to pull us apart but we've fought back. In fighting back did we just make things worse?

Falling in love with Harry has been a whirlwind experience. In twelve short weeks, less if you count the time we were broken up, we've had the highest highs and what felt like the lowest lows. He's swept me off my feet and broken my heart more times than I can count. And just when the finish line finally came into our grasp, the rug got pulled from under us.

I want to marry him, have a future with him. He wants that too. And yet life keeps finding ways to get between us. Are we just being stupid? Am I just naïve for believing we would ever get that perfect future together? Was he just using me all along as a form of pleasure? Was this all just a ploy to get back at Lance? I can't be sure of anything anymore.

All I'm sure of is that I love him, and that my heart is too fragile, it might not be able to survive whatever he says next.

He pulls up the car at our spot, throwing it into park with a sigh. The air is heavy with tension, and we sit in it for a while, exhausted from the day we just had. All those ugly doubts have creeped back into my mind from earlier, but I let them stay there this time.

Finally Harry turns his head and gently takes my hand into his. "I love you, Maude."

My eyes close and my heart aches. I hold onto his hand with a strong grip, biting my lips to hold back my tears. "I love you, Harry."

He lets out a shaky breath at my words, bringing my hand up to his lips to kiss the back of it. He always thinks his kisses can save things, and maybe once there was some truth to that ideology. They used to heal me, settle me down, wash away all the negativity. But tonight every touch of his lips against my hand feels like the kiss of death to our relationship.

Holding my hand against his cheek, I feel a tear against my skin. My heart sinks more.

"Just tell me." I whisper, feeling suffocated by the anticipation. "Just do it, tell me it's over."

"I can't." He whispers back, shaking his head.

My voice rises slightly in volume, "Just say it. Maude, I'm breaking up with you and I never want to see you again. Rip the band aid off, just say it."