Only You {h.s}

Chapter Forty Three

The only sound in the room is the steady ticking of the clock hanging on the wall opposite me, mocking the strangled silence of the room. It's funny how time works, always playing tricks on you. Three years without my parents felt like nothing and five minutes of sitting in the same room as them feels like a lifetime.

They look about the same. My mother has a few more wrinkles than before and my dad's previously light brown hair is mostly grey now. But other than that, I assume nothing has changed. Physically or mentally.

I had imagined this moment in so many different ways, usually involving a screaming match. But I'm tired. I don't want to fight and I don't want to see my mum and dad, but apparently I'm not that lucky.

I pick at my nails, feeling Harry staring at me. His arm is wrapped around my shoulders as we sit on the couch, avoiding my parents' gaze. I can feel them gawking at the bruises on my face, like I'm some animal at the zoo.

"I'm really glad you're safe," my mother grins. I scoff in response.

"Where's Louis?" I ask nobody in particular.

"We were so worried about you, baby."

At this, I snap my head up. If looks could kill...

"You were worried about me? You were worried about me? That's great, mum. Truly." I roll my eyes, feeling Harry squeeze my shoulder. I don't know if he's telling me to watch it or comforting me. "I didn't ask for your pity and I sure as hell don't want you here. So you can take your "worry" somewhere else."

My mum turns to my dad and sighs. She almost looks guilty. Good.

"Louis should be here soon," Harry whispers in my ear. I glance up at him, looking into his soft green eyes. I nod my head solemnly. He leans down and presses a kiss to the tip of my nose.

"So how long has this um, thing, been going on?" My dad points between me and Harry. I have to fight the urge to go off on him. It isn't any of his business.

"About seven months, sir," Harry answers politely.

My dad presses his lips together and raises his eyebrows. I can literally see the judgment on his face, but he doesn't speak. At least one of my parents knows when to keep their mouth shut.

Part of me wonders whether or not Harry knew they'd be here. It seems like something he might do to get me to make up with them. But I kind of doubt it considering how surprised he looked when my mum opened the door.

"How did you guys even know what happened to me?" I speak up. Apparently this is funny because my mom lets out a high pitched giggle.

"Well it was all over the news, honey. 'Ex convict kidnaps former student' – and from our town no less. Everyone was going mad. It made for some awkward conversations, but I think I handled it quite well. They all miss you, you know." Her shrill voice gnaws at my ears. I try not to be too shocked at her insensitivity. I'm used to it, but Harry isn't. So when I feel him start to tense up, I put my hand on his knee in an attempt to calm him down.

"Do you?" I spit. "Do you even miss me?"

"Of course we do," my dad speaks up. My mum nods her head in agreement, a softer expression on her face.

"Well you have a real funny way of showing it. You do know what a phone is, right? You could've called instead of ignoring me for three years."

"We didn't think you'd want to hear from us! After you ran away we-"

"After I ran away? Are you kidding me?" I shout, clenching my fists. "You kicked me out!"

"Only after you said you wanted to leave," my mother adds shrilly.