divorce [h.s.]

twenty four

Andria

two days later

I've tried my hardest to distract myself with work for the past few days but no matter how much work I do, Harry always slips into my mind. And it's beginning to drive me crazy. Why can't he just leave me and my thoughts alone for once?

I try to focus on filing pieces of paper, replying to and typing emails, attempting to give half good advice to arguing couples in my office. But even I notice that all my filing is in the wrong order, my emails don't even make sense and I'm not making any progress with my clients.

It's pretty ironic how I'm trying to give people relationship advice when my love life, or lack there of, is filled with more drama than the Kardashians.

Now, it's lunchtime and I'm sat facing the large window in my office that overlooks the city view, my phone in my hand. I bite my lip anxiously as I read Harry's name and number over and over again. I want to talk to him, I want to ask him whether what Victoria was trying to tell me is true or not. I want reassurance. I want him to tell me that I misinterpreted it in someway, that it was a mistake and that there's more to the story.

But then at the same time, I don't want to know. I don't want him to tell me that it was true, that I interpreted it the right way and that it's going to crush me all over again.

Maybe I shouldn't call him, at least that way I don't have to actually talk to him.

Perhaps I could just text him instead. That's more casual and probably won't turn into a literal screaming match.

I take a deep breath as I open my messages, wondering how on earth Harry makes me feel like this. I've never been the type to feel nervous about talking to someone, let alone sending a text. I hate how he has this power over me, even when he's so far away.

I click on Harry's name and begin to type out a message, deleting it several times and re-typing it again before finally pressing send.

To: Harry Styles, 1:02 pm
We really need to talk. I miss you and I'm worried about you, I haven't heard from you in a while.

Error 3900: Your message cannot be sent at this time. The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable.

I sit back and stare at my phone in confusion, blinking a few times, not able to work it out. But then it suddenly clicks.

Are you fucking serious?

Not only has he not bothered to contact me himself or even have the decency to pick up the phone when I ring him, because he's too busy probably sleeping with his ex wife, and now he's even blocked my number!

I send a few more angry texts, asking him if he's serious, but I realise it's pointless because none of them will send and I end up wanting to throw my phone out the window.

Instead, I slam it down on the desk and rake my hands through my hair as I let out a low groan. I don't know how much longer I can deal with all of this. My marriage was probably less complicated than this.

I feel like crying again but I convince myself that I shouldn't waste any more tears on this completely messed up situation. But seeing as I'm not going to burst out crying, instead, all my energy turns into anger.

I'm extremely thankful when my last session of the day is cancelled, meaning I can leave sooner. I quickly pack up my bag, shut down my computer and then head out into the hall. Riley glances up when he sees me rushing out of my office, his eyebrows furrowing.

"In a hurry?" He asks. "Do you have a meeting or something? I don't remember having one written on here.."

"No. I just, uh, have somewhere to go." I say, tucking some hair behind my ear and nibbling at my lip impatiently. "Do you need anything or.....?"