I Do

Chapter 6

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Chapter 6 *Now*

I'm not entirely sure what's going on. My mind is literally blank, my jaw is literally dropped, my heart is literally ripped in half.

Ar smiles proudly at me and her blue eyes rake eagerly over mine. She's still delightedly displaying her ring, her engagement ring. The ring that promises she will marry Harry. Harry Styles. The boy I love, to clarify that. Of course, her 'sacred' virginity ring was a promise as well, and that's scattered in the bottom of her jewelry box, utterly forgotten. But this?

"B... but you... you said yes?" I sputter stupidly.

She beams, glancing down at the ring. It's gorgeous: a shimmering white gold base with a massive sparkling diamond in the center, framed delicately with intricate smaller diamonds. "I'd have thought that was rather obvious."

"You... Ar, you're only eighteen," I remind her weakly.

In that instant, her joyful personality snaps into icy, offended rage. She clenches her teeth furiously and her gaze hardens, as if she were expecting such a response. "Yes, Hallie, I have some idea of how old I am. But this is my choice and I hoped you'd at least be happy for me," Ara rants indignantly, crossing her arms fiercely to shield the ring from view.

My gut instinct is to scream that I'm not happy about it. As I bite my tongue, my gut instinct battles fiercely against my friendship. Finally, I trust myself to speak. "I am happy for you," I lie smoothly, forcing my eyes to brighten significantly. "I was just... surprised." Even though I'm dangerously close to allowing tears to spurt from my eyes, I relentlessly spit out the rest. "Tell me everything."

Quivering excitedly, she perches on the edge of my bed and begins her enthusiastic ramble. "Well, he told me we needed to talk. I smiled, really confused, and asked 'About what?' So he knelt down on one knee and reached into his pocket. He said, 'Arabella Edwards, I've loved you from the moment we met. You were so beautiful and perfect and I was head over heels. Every moment I spend with you is a thousand times better because we're together. I know we're still young, but when I go on tour, I want to be able to smile and know that I won't lose you. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?' Or, well, something along those lines." She shrugs, beaming carelessly as her distinct blue eyes flit once again to that twinkling gem.

My eyes prickle, welling with unshed tears, and my heart throbs. I blurt, before I can resist, "What do you know about the wedding?"

"Oh, well I wanted a spring wedding, so he agreed on April. Even if they're busy with tours or whatever, he promised that April would be the month. He said whatever made me happy," she declares smugly. Her eyes dance with a hungry anticipation, her smile wider than I've ever seen. I'm both pleased for Ara's sake and heartbroken for mine.

"I... well, congratulations Ar. I'm so happy for you," I say softly, giving her a gentle hug.

"Thanks, sweetie. I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Harry's waiting." She aims a deceptive wink at me and barges out of my room, letting the door slam behind her.

The satiny fabric of my pillow begs me to lie my head down, but I'm acutely aware that it will be impossible for me to sleep for half a second tonight. Embracing that, I snap on the radio, willing myself not to cry.

"The only one who's got enough of me to break my heart. He's the song in the car I keep singing don't know why I do. He's the time taken up but there's never enough and he's all that I need to fall into," Taylor sings, her voice leaking tinnily from the tiny speakers.

That's all it takes for the crumbling vents in my eyes to open and the salty, bitter tears to come cascading out.

.......

"You're breaking up with me?" The pretty blonde's blue eyes widen accusingly as her radiant smile vanishes. "I thought you were proposing!" The word pierces my heart like a shard of ice and I frown sleepily.

"Proposing? Elle, if I'm going to be a senator... I need to marry a Jackie, not a Marilyn," the handsome actor explains apologetically.

Elle begins ranting furiously about blonde hair and I blink blearily at the television. I'm exhausted, but every time my eyes flutter shut my mind races, making it impossible to sleep.

I click down the volume until Elle's voice is all but mute as she stalks along beside Warner's car. Content, I tuck my head into my plush pillow and sigh, relieved that this absolutely heart splintering day is coming to an end.

But it's not, my brain barks harshly. It's not over, because next you'll be checking out bridal flowers and where to have the rehearsal dinner and oohing over her wedding gown. Then you'll be going to parties and catching sight of them, and visiting their house, and holding their babies. It will never end.

I bolt upright as a tear glides helplessly down my cheek. Pitying myself, I crank the volume back up and slump into my headboard. Normally, I handle stress quite well and with a little creamy chocolate I'm as peppy as ever. Unfortunately, I have the dreadful feeling that this isn't going to be quite as easy to recover from.

A knock on the door startles me and I flatten a pillow over my ears, silently pleading with whoever it is to simply go away. The pounding continues until, sighing heavily, I slide out from underneath my silky sheets and shuffle over to the door.

I peek into the peephole, but my eyes are blurry from drowsiness and burning, unshed tears. Squinting, I recognize Zayn's varsity jacket and gratefully fling open the door to allow him in. I'm far too exhausted to question what he's doing here at three in the morning.

"Sorry, if you were asleep," he apologizes sincerely, his face solemn.

"I wasn't," I admit wearily, ushering him over to the couch while I quietly shut the door, peeking into the deserted hallway to reassure that no spies are deftly lurking there.

Zayn's dark eyes lock sorrowfully on mine, and I spot the sympathy reflected in them. He tenderly pats the cushion next to him. Obediently, I collapse on the couch and pause for his explanation. He doesn't offer one.

"Hallie, we have to stop this," he whispers urgently. I crinkle my nose, bewildered. What's wrong with sitting on a couch? He can't possible imagine that I'm interested in him, does he? This isn't scandalous, right? Oh God, what if it is?

"Stop what?" I ask, my mind swimming feverishly. It isn't cheating to talk late at night, is it? Oh no, I've never even considered being a cheater. The very idea of cheating with someone, even Harry, makes me feel the urge to gag. Hastily, I shift across the velvety material.

"The wedding."

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