Stall 2

Chapter 15.

"Got me lyin', lyin' for your love
Am I losing, losing myself
When I'm lyin', lyin' for your love?"

***

June 13th:

Steve picked me up from work tonight, we're heading to the bar we went to when we had our double date all those months ago.

Harry and Jimmy are already there, and Jacob and Sophie will be meeting us there as well.

Harry still hasn't warmed up to the idea of group dates, but he tolerates it and doesn't act like he's dragging his genitals through broken glass over it like he used to.

It was Jimmy and Steve's idea, they started calling it 'family night', and they try to wrangle Harry into it at the most once a week. I think it's a really sweet idea, and while Harry is a lot better with quint essential relationship traditions; it's still a learning curve for him.

Ever since Saturday when Harry asked me to hurt him - put my hand around his throat while he fucked me senseless, I've been trying to figure out what all that was about and wanting to talk to him about it. I'm cycling between wondering why I enjoyed it, even if it was confusing but also being worried over Harry's motivations with it.

I think he's trying to figure out why he liked it as well, or wanted that but I'm also scared of the possibility that he was trying to hurt himself, punish himself just in a different way. I hope that's not the case and I'd be devastated if it was, so I'm going to have to speak to him before I'm going to be comfortable with something like that happening again. If it happens again.

Do I want it to happen again?

It's been a fairly uneventful couple of days after all that, thankfully. I've been busy with work, and Harry has been busy with the club and still trying to find David, as well as still adamant about the fact he's getting rid of Andy - but we're still yet to have a proper conversation about that.

Although, I don't think a conversation would've made much of a difference. The day after my mother ambushed me with Andy, Harry and Jimmy went to his work and house trying to find him but he wasn't there, which only irritated Harry and he ranted that now when he finds him, he's only made things worse for himself.

I still don't know how to feel about it.

I haven't forgotten what Andy did to me. I know Harry hasn't either, but I was the one that had to experience it. I still remember the fear, I still remember the agony of his fist connecting with my face and how helpless I felt. How betrayed I felt by someone I had cared about and trusted. I can still feel it when I think about it, like I'm reliving it.

But I'm just not someone that can only think about myself.

I'd feel like I had blood on my own hands from Harry doing that, just like I did when he drugged Andy and beat him half to death.

All I keep thinking of is margaret's voice the day she rang me when Andy was in hospital, how distraught and devastated she was. How heartbroken she was.

Andy may have deserved it, but did she? Did she deserve to see her son like that?

I know Andy isn't the son of the year, I know he speaks down to her and he's arrogant and disrespectful but I also know he loves his mother. I spent two years around that family, I saw how much Margaret loves Andy and visa versa. Her son means everything to her.

I honestly think that's why she stayed with David, to give Andy a better life; aside from being scared of David.

Granted she deserves a better son than what she has, but we don't get to choose things like that.