Ambition || Harry Styles

*49*

I've been cleaning the apartment for two hours straight, scrubbing every surface in order to try and gain a little control of one aspect of my shitty life despite the complete and utter chaos that is inside my mind.

My heart stopped when the police contacted me this morning but I felt the weight of the world lifted off my shoulders when they explained that although I do need to be questioned, like most of the staff at Patterson & Sons, I am not being accused of the same offences as my family.

Harry was being truthful about that at least.

I barely slept last night, Katie insisting on staying with me but I couldn't settle long enough to really rest. My thoughts were running into overdrive and most of them involved the man who I had become used to sleeping beside, his arms wrapped around me in a false sense of security and comfort in what I may discover today, was a total lie.

Katie's was right, I need to know the truth. I messaged Harry and held my breath as I asked him to meet me at my apartment at 11am.  The conversation is too sensitive to be had in a public place, despite the fact I would prefer him not to enter my personal space, and apparently, according to Katie, our offices have been shut until further notice.

I don't really know what I'm going to say to him when I see him, my feelings still all over the place but I'm hoping to gather enough confidence to get the answers I need.

My hands are shaking, my stomach catapulting into my throat when the door bell rings at 10:55; early, as usual.

My first reaction is self-doubt, my thoughts trying to convince me I'm not ready for this and to just not answer the door but my body has other plans as I hold down the release, not brave enough to pick up the phone and I wait for Harry to enter.

Tears have already started to well in my eyes at the thought of seeing the face I used to wish I would wake up to see every day, now tainted with lies and betrayal. 

I hear the door open and close as my hands and eyes remain fixed to the dining table, outstretched arms holding my body up and long, deep breaths filling my lungs.

Inhale, 1-2-3-4. Exhale, 5-6-7-8.

I allow my gaze to slowly crawl up, his boots, his skinny black jeans, his faded grey t-shirt, finally locking bloodshot eyes with Harry's and he looks as bad, if not worse than I do. Lack of sleep, too many tears and an inhumane level of stress will do that to you and for a brief moment, I think he looks the exact same way he did after he got back from New York the first time.

"Harry," I speak first, his name rolling off my tongue, my heart slamming up into my throat as if it's trying to escape the carnage that it's surly about to be subjected to.

"Lexi. Are you alright? Did you speak with your dad or the police?" he starts, his voice croaky.

"I want to know the truth, Harry. All of it."

The strength in my voice surprises even myself and I watch him nod with easy agreement. "All of it," he accepts, and the lump in my throat solidifies as I take a seat and stare into the eyes of the man I thought I knew.

Harry sits on the opposite side of the table, his elbows on the glass top and his fingers crossed in front of his lips, his eyes attempting to dissect every emotion I'm deliberately trying to hide.

The thought of countless nights, sitting at this table, eating dinners we prepared, kissing and cuddling on the same couches behind us, makes me feel nauseous both from memories that now have a bitter taste and the abandoned future that I had dreamt about.

Harry on the surface, is the same. I can still read his expression and can tell the exact tone of voice he will use.  He still licks his lips in the same way and pushes his hair off his face in a way that would make me smile.  He looks and talks and acts like the Harry I love, yet everything has changed.

"I used to idolise your dad," he starts, having to clear his throat and he seems terrified to deliver the news I'm sure he has gone over in his head a million times.

"I meant it when I told you he was a trailblazer, he really was. I was fascinated by his ability to somehow never make any tactical errors. I told you already that my dad was in real estate too, he hated that I was so in awe of Alan, used to tell me all the time that he was a fraud but I didn't believe him."

Harry shakes his head, as if the memories of his father are too strong to deal with on top of everything else but he pushes on and I don't speak a word in fear of throwing him off course.

His lips are still pink, his eyes still captivating and there is a part of me that pathetically wants to run and comfort him, seeing him upset and struggling only makes the pain in my chest worse but the anger and hurt creeps over like black sludge, swamping my feelings so much that I remain seated.

"My dad was sick, already dying of cancer when I bought an apartment, one that Patterson & Sons had developed and I swear it hurt him more than the illness. All of his work buddies and people I had known my whole life through my father kept telling me that Alan was a cheat, that I'd given my money to a criminal and that I was going against all the morals my father had instilled in me.

"I realised after I had moved in, and started delving a little deeper into the contracts and market analysis that Dad was right, but I was too stubborn to admit it.  When... when he died, I made it some sort of mission for myself to expose Alan, some sort of bullshit legacy I had convinced myself my father would be proud of me for."

I twirl the ends of my hair, things already aren't adding up and I'm starting to worry Harry is just feeding me more lies.  My father might not be ethical but he isn't stupid.

"Harry, this is bullshit! I don't know any other 'Styles' and have no idea who the hell Robin Styles is! Shouldn't I kno-," I'm cut off by Harry shaking his head in dismissal.

"No Lex, he was my stepfather. Twist, Robin Twist."

A/N:

Don't worry my little gems (yep! I'm naming you all!), no more cliff hangers!

Double update for you, up now!

VOTE BEFORE YOU TURN THE PAGE

Love Ruby

x