Sweetener || HS AU (COMPLETED)

🍭 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕪-𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 🍭

Jailen

"Did you know?" I whispered.

There was a brief silence, "About the contract or your mom cheating?"

"Both," I replied before the sentence was even finished.

Another silence that seemed to go on forever, followed by a heavy sigh and I knew what that meant, "Yeah," my dad answered, "Yeah, I knew."

I didn't bother saying anything else as I took the phone away from my ear and hung up. I let my arm fall against the sheets, the impact making my phone slip out of my hand and onto the floor, before turning around to face the wall.

My apartment was quiet and cold. I couldn't remember the last time I turned the lights on or even made enough movement to create body heat. My stomach growled but the thought of eating made me nauseous. The thought of doing anything without Harry made me nauseous.

Self-loathing has been something I've become all too familiar with these past couple of days. In hindsight, it seems silly. I couldn't hate myself for participating in something I had zero knowledge about but the thought of being that gullible made me want to dig a hole to the earth's core and dive in head first. Especially if it meant getting over the embarrassment I was feeling.

But I was sad, too. And angry. And confused as to what I had done to make my mother hate me as much as she did. Did she really think I was so incapable of being loved that she had to basically pay someone to pretend to? Maybe I was.

It's been 48 hours and I think I took note of just about every physical and mental flaw I have.

Of course, Harry didn't love me. And I didn't love him. I didn't. I loved the idea of him and being around him but I didn't love him.

I could hear the sound of my phone vibrating on the floor and I closed my eyes, warm tears sliding off of my face and onto my damp pillow.

Is this what heartbreak feels like? Is it supposed to be this... what's the word?... dull? Dark?

A well. I was in a well. One that was 20 feet deep. One whose walls were too slippery and too smooth to grab onto to even try to get myself out. I could see the exit way at the top. A small, white circle that was so far away. I wanted to be there. I wanted to go there. But I kept slipping.

Why did Harry agree to that? I'd like to think I would've said yes to him had he approached me outside of the contract, if I'd met him on the streets instead of in the elevator, on a good day instead of a day started with panic attacks. If I would've been more like my sisters, would my mom have agreed to this plan? Would she have even thought about me as a way to cash in a favor that was owed to her?

I peeled my eyes open and stared at the wall, something I'd done too many times lately. I was so tired, but I knew if I tried to sleep, it would be a waste of time. I haven't slept a lick since I got back to my apartment. So many should've, could've, would've's - it's hard to sleep with a loud mind.

It's even harder to sleep without Harry.

My sheets don't smell like him, and my pillows aren't as comfortable as his chest, even though I hardly felt it when we slept; he liked being the little spoon. No matter how hard I wrap my arms around myself, it wasn't warm. It wasn't Harry.

And the thought of never feeling him again hurt more than everything that has happened.

Harry's POV

I could hear the hurried footsteps and panicked breathing of my father's receptionist behind me as I made my way toward his office.

"Harry, he's in a very important meeting right now. Please," She pleaded but I ignored her.