The Best Man {h.s.}

28

"Emma!" Harry yells through the crowd as he follows me. I sprint through the crowd, visions of Jane and Harry flashing through my mind as well as Jane and my ex, bringing back all kinds of memories that I never wanted to relive ever again. My chest feels heavy and my vision is almost gone and I feel like I'm about to pass out at any moment.

I just need to breathe.

I finally reach the entrance doors and forcefully push them open. The breeze in the air almost knocks me to my feet, but I run past the smokers standing outside the entrance and continue running down the silent city streets.

"Emma, stop!" Harry practically screams, making me jump a little. I hear his footsteps gaining on me faster than I can run away from them and I eventually stop, giving my adrenaline a chance to calm down a bit before turning around to face him. He's panting, his dark hair blowing in the wind as he watches me, looking for any signs of emotion other than anger. He starts to open his mouth, probably getting ready to give me this whole speech about how it 'wasn't what I thought', but I don't let him.

"How fucking dare you!" I scream, stepping forward to get in his face. He stands still, closing his mouth and watching me with sadness in his eyes. "I put all of my trust in you, Harry! All of it! And this is how you fucking decide to use it?"

"Emma, I don't know--"

"No, you don't know. You don't know how this fucking feels, watching someone you l--" I cut myself off, taking a shaky breath before continuing, thankful that I caught myself before using the 'L word'. "Why her? Why did it have to fucking be her?"

I'm trying so hard to hold it together, a few stray tears escaping every once in a while without my permission. He holds his hand up to wipe one away but I take a step back, not allowing him to touch me.

"I knew it. I fucking knew it." I close my eyes and shake my head, trying to stay focused without fully crying. "I knew that this wasn't going to end well. Someone like you--"

"Someone like me?" Harry interrupts, now looking angry himself. "Let me guess, someone that doesn't date? Someone that uses women for his own benefit by getting them drunk and taking them home? Someone that's quick to leave and never calls? Go ahead, Em. Try to convince yourself that that's who I am. Try to forget everything we've done, seen, shared together over the past few weeks."

"Can you blame me?" I shout, throwing my arms in the air. "All I ever heard prior to meeting you was the amount of girls you slept with! Hell, even a few weeks before meeting me! What the hell am I supposed to think when I find you kissing someone else?"

"You have no idea what happened in there!" He steps forward, his eyes narrowing as his voice gets louder. "And you won't shut the hell up long enough for me to explain!"

I inhale, staring at him with more anger and intensity than I ever have before.

"Fuck you, Harry." I step towards him, placing my hands on his chest and pushing him as hard as I can. "Fuck you!"

I push him once more, then begin to cry, letting the tears fall and watching them as they hit the concrete.

"Em," he almost whispers, the desperation in his voice making me cry harder. "Em, would you just--"

"Stop calling me that!" I shout, covering my ears and continuing to look down so he won't see my eyes full of tears. I can feel the eyes of passersby on me, probably laughing at the drunk girl crying her eyes out outside of a club.

"Please, let me explain," Harry calmly says, cautiously taking a step towards me. I try to focus on my breathing, hoping to get the pounding from my heart to stop thumping in my ears as the tears continue to fall. He takes one more careful step in my direction and I cringe, letting my arms down and praying to god that he doesn't touch me because if he does, I may fall apart altogether.