For better, For worse | Louis Tomlinson |

Chapter fifteen

We took the elevator up to the very top floor and when we stopped, Louis had to enter a code for the doors to open. When we stepped out, I noted the city skyline all around us. We were on the roof. The dark sky contrasted against the bright city below us. "The roof?" My question was clearly unneeded but it's all I could think to say.

"Yea, I, ehm, I used to stay at this hotel quite a bit when we first started workin' over here in America," he moved closer to the edge of the building, not alarmingly close but close enough to see down below us. "Sometimes bein' cramped up in a room with so many people felt suffocating. So I made friends with one of the maintenance guys, George. Lovely lad. "

He held his arm around me closely as he spoke, staring at the busy nightlife below us. It was like he was afraid I would slip and fall over and he was keeping me up here and safe. "So you would come up here?" I looked at him for an answer and he nodded. "Yea, here, and pretty much any other hotel roof. There's something freeing about being up here. It's freeing." He pointed his hand towards the Hollywood sign, lit up in the distance.

"The view ain't that bad either." He chuckled to himself and took my hand, leading me away from the edge over to a wall that housed some sort of electrical system for the hotel and placed his back to it, sliding down until he was seated and then pat the ground beside of him.

I slid down just as he did and faced outward. The tops of only the tallest buildings were visible now. We sat in silence forever before I finally spoke. "Do you feel like you need to be free right now?" I didn't look at him when I asked. I just kept staring off into the dark night.

He pondered over my question a minute before answering. "Ehm, a bit. I guess. But, I really thought that maybe you could use it." He turned to look at me but I didn't match his gaze. I kept my focus on the building in front of us. The entire top row of windows were lit up except for one on the far right. I let my mind wander to all the people across from us and all of their daily lives. I wonder if they ever had problems like me.

"Angela?" Louis' voice shook me from my thoughts and I remembered his statement. "Sorry, I guess I did need a bit of freeing." I pulled my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. "Freeing from what?"
His voice was curious and I turned to face him. His eyes were soft as they studied my face, trying to figure out what I meant.

I realized in that moment that I had been subconsciously making an effort to not look at him. I knew that if I looked at him, on this rooftop, in the dark, alone, with some alcohol in my system, not a lot, but some, that I would do something stupid. His deep blue gaze poured into mine and when I opened my mouth the words that fell out of it were shocking even to my own ears.

"I don't know if I can get married tomorrow, Louis."

He opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off, "I love Trevor. I love Trevor so much it fucking hurts. It hurts to think about not being with him. It hurts to think about hurting him. I have wanted nothing more than for this man to be my husband since the first day that we had lunch together in his classroom. The way he talked about his students and how much he cares about them, genuinely cares about them is so fucking amazing. I am in awe of him every single day. His optimistic outlook in such a shitty world is such a breath of fresh air and he is going to make an amazing husband and father some day and I had it all planned. It was all fucking planned." I stopped to catch my breath and he didn't move to speak, he was just listening.

"Then I met you. I met you and you're charming and sweet and funny and goddamnit you are so incredibly attractive and I don't know why but for the first time since I met Trevor I didn't see him as my husband. Now, I'm not saying I see you as that because that would be fucking insane but I do have feelings for you and I can't sit back and pretend that I don't want you to kiss me every single time I'm in the same room with you. I can't pretend that I don't want to lay in your arms and let you tell me all the things about you that I don't know. I can't—"