deceived ↠ harry styles ✓

[29]

[HARRY STYLES]
London, England

★ ★ ★

Wherever Harry went, he was told things would always get better with time. Wherever Harry went, he was told that all it takes is time to come to terms with what happens in life. Wherever Harry went, all he heard was time time time time—always give it time and he will know.

At the age of thirty-eight, Harry had to admit that time was bullshit. No matter how much time he gave things—his mother leaving, his ex-girlfriend leaving, his girlfriend lying to him—nothing had changed. Nothing got better. Certainly not him or his broken heart.

A week hadn't even passed before Harry found the weight of his phone keeping his hand occupied, its bright screen urging him to open his messages and text Astrid. Only one thought lingered on his mind since the day of his mother's wedding, and it was the woman who stole his heart. Stole it, broke it, yet still owned it. All the pieces, the crumbles of it that pricked him from the inside out, and reminded him that love hurt.

When Harry's mother walked out, it hurt.

When Harry's ex-girlfriend left him, it hurt.

When Harry found out the truth about Astrid, the plan she came up with but explained was never carried out, it hurt.

At the same time, he couldn't pretend as though they were all the same. Astrid's actions didn't cut as deep as losing a mother, or having a romantic partner leave for someone else. Harry wondered if it was because he didn't love Astrid enough but the thought battered his shattered heart some more, scolded himself for allowing his brain to come up with something as crazy as that.

No. Harry was hurt because he found out in one night that the man who broke Astrid was the same man who made Kaitlin, his sister, the happiest woman on earth, only to break her the same way by the end of it. Harry was hurt because he felt like he couldn't protect his sister, and he was hurt because the reality of it was, his sister had hurt Astrid. Unknowingly, yes, but caused her pain nevertheless.

The battle of who was to blame roared in Harry's head for days on end. Work gave him a small peace of mind but as soon as the surgery was done, his hands scrubbed, his operating outfit shed, he was back in that same, dark box.

All of it pointed back to one person. Derek. Harry hated himself for welcoming the man into his life with warmth. Now that he knew the truth, he wished he could take it all back but it didn't work like that. People learn through experience, and goddamn it, Harry thought he had plenty now.

Enough, anyway, to know that he didn't want to waste any more of his life. Not on friends. Not on love or lovers. Harry wanted something solid, something that he didn't have to worry about. For some time, he assumed he'd found it in and with Astrid. He believed he could have it and eat it, too, but of course, it all tipped when he felt himself start to settle.

Could he leave it behind, knowing that he may never find that peacefulness again? Despite all that happened with Astrid, and everything that had been made clear, could Harry stand back on his feet and say he wanted to work it out? After all, love is not sunshine and rainbows all the time. All that has happened was a horrendous storm that he no doubt will forever remember, but what if he stuck it out?

That was the one thing he couldn't find an answer to on his own. Harry knew he had to face Astrid, and talk to her. Not just about what they want from the future, but also about how they'd make it work, how they'd start—should they start? Could they do it? It'd been obvious from the start that Astrid had just as much to deal with on a personal level as Harry did.

The unknown would drive Harry mad, he was aware. Five days of it was plenty so he decided to take matters into his own hands. After what felt like forever, Harry finally texted Astrid.

Hi. How you doing? I feel like I should apologise for the time I took to think about what's happened. I'm sorry. I suppose you expect me to be clearer on what will happen next, but to be completely honest, I am as lost as I was the day I last saw you. It's been tough without you, and I miss you. I want to talk to you when you are ready, and have some time. I don't want you to overthink it and scare yourself out of it, which I know you tend to do, so please, pick a location for us to meet and a time that would best suit you. We have so much to go through. I'm free this weekend but will be working from Monday to Thursday, so if this weekend is not ideal for you, then the next weekend is my earliest availability. Let me know what you think. H

Five times. Harry read his message over five times, edited it to sound as good as it could be, then pressed the blue arrow and sent it. Once the 'delivered' sign appeared beneath the blue bubble, Harry exhaled through his mouth, tension filling his shoulders. He didn't want to look at his phone at all, so he locked it, tossed it to the other end of his couch then got up, and walked towards his kitchen.

Never once since he started hanging out with Astrid did he feel so much stress. The nerves ate him up to the point where he had to open and close every single cabinet door in his kitchen to relieve some of it. There were many. Harry only realised then, during his stress-relieving exercise, how many fucking cabinet doors he had. One of them held a bunch of snacks which he rarely ever ate because thirty-eight started to hit him. Even though he frequented the gym, a little chocolate bar here and there started to show itself more and more.

This time, though... this time, Harry went for the full Cadbury bar. Pure milk chocolate. He jumped up onto the counter, ripped open the purple packaging, and broke off the first row. Every little square he popped in his mouth melted like a dream on his tongue. The momentary happiness that filled him was good enough to have him lean his head against the cabinet, his ankles crossed as they hovered above the ground.

Too much chocolate too soon had Harry on his feet with jitters shaking through him. Before he even received a text, he checked his phone and it left him disappointed. The phone collided with the cushion of the furniture with ease as Harry left it behind to grab another row of chocolate. He washed away the taste with some water, and this time, when he checked his phone, his heart nearly gave out.

Astrid responded.

Hi. Sure. Meet me at that coffee shop near Leyland's Park at 2?

The casualness of her message made Harry feel strange. He pushed it away as he checked the time on his phone, and saw that he had just about an hour to get himself ready and to the park.

★ ★ ★

Until Harry saw Astrid at the coffee shop, wearing a pair of jeans, and a shirt that inched below her elbows, he felt like he couldn't breathe. He felt like his heart couldn't find a calm rhythm.