𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐀! | harry styles

𝐗𝐗𝐈𝐕

AFTER Rosalie leaves, Lori and I sit there on the pillows just staring at the ceiling. I can hear Dad in the kitchen slamming plates and throwing the long fondue forks around, doing his best to break whatever he's intending to put in the sink.

Next to me, Lori's sniffling and sipping her drink and I can't even imagine how drained she feels. If it's anything like how I do, she's gotta feel like she's been hit by a truck.

Adult films. My lord.

Part of me is appalled that she'd want to have sex with total strangers for total strangers. To do intimate things with some sweaty guy you don't know, that's probably had sex with a bunch of other people maybe not five minutes before you–for all the world to see–is something I can barely comprehend. To choose a sex-trade business as your future is as questionable as deciding to become the best junkie you can. These occupations don't have shiny degrees to frame and hang on your wall.

But the other part of me, the one that has love for my sister, well… I want her to be happy. It's not a situation or a path in life I'd choose, but like Lori said, I'm not going to stop being her sister and shut her out because of her choices. As long as she's not doing something that hurts me or those I love directly, all I can do is remain by her side and hope she takes care of herself.

It's a mind-blowing position to be in and a devastating inner turmoil to reconcile.

I try to envision what a future with Rosalie would be like. It could've been a 'let's get together for the afternoon and let the kids run around while we drink wine in our beautiful Malibu homes' sort of thing.

But now I just don't know how this future might go. I don't ever see us meeting up for steaks and martinis to talk about how our jobs are going.

Sighing, I lift myself up from the floor feeling as old as Abe Vigoda looks. "I'm gonna go up to bed. Are you okay?"

Lori opens her eyes and smiles sadly. "It's all going to be okay," she says and closes them again.

I leave her like that and go into the kitchen cautiously. Dad has calmed down a bit, and he's moving stuff from the dining room table to the kitchen counters. I lend a hand, and together, we clean up most of the fondue stuff and he says we'll take care of the rest in the morning. Rosalie's present is still on the table, so I grab it and turn to Dad, hugging him harder than normal.

"Don't worry, Dad. I'm sure it's going to be okay," I repeat Lori's words and look up at him.

"Promise me you're not going to do anything like this. I can barely stomach Rosalie's decision, but if it were you, it would kill me."

"Don't worry, Pops. The only camera I'll have sex in front of is Harry's." I smile and wink, hoping to make him laugh, but he just makes a choking sound, so I kiss him on the cheek and go to my room.

Sitting on the bed, I finger the pink bow on the gift but cast it aside and reach for my phone.

"Hey, beautiful," Harry answers on the first ring.

"Hey." You adorable, pin-up worthy hunk of a man.

"Are you alright? Everything… alright?"

"Yeah, I mean, I think it will be. I… I'll tell you tomorrow, if that's okay? I'm exhausted."

"Of course. Unless you want me to come over and climb through your window. You know I would."

The image of Harry Styles climbing through my window is as butterflies-in-the-stomach inducing as the thought of David Lee Roth serenading me. "As much as I would love that, I don't want you to die just yet."