Niall Imagines

Divorce

HI SO this below is chapter one of my new fic!! but i also figured it would work as an update here!! so if you like it check it out , it's called 'it's not black and white' . Thank you loves enjoy :-)

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I signed across the dotted line and handed the paper back to Niall's lawyer. Divorced. There was something so ironic about being sat opposite Niall, like how you would on a date, yet this was the furthest apart we had ever been. I did not dare make eye contact, instead I remained focused on the edge of the large oak table in front of me, scratching its surface with the pen I had just used to sign away two years of my life. The men around me stood up and shook hands, like they had just accomplished a respectable business deal. Maybe that's all marriage was. An unattainable deal.

I saw his feet at the corner of my eyes and followed them upwards where he looked down at me, a cold and distant look, the lack of emotion behind his eyes sent shivers down my spine. This contact did not last, I grabbed my purse and ran out of the room, I was £20million richer, but at my lowest.

I made my way back to my car, locked the door behind me and banged my head on the steering wheel, suppressing a mixture of a scream and a sob. It's not like I hadn't seen it coming, what was I thinking? A drunk Las Vegas wedding.. we were lucky to even last two years. I let a deranged laugh out, I let this happen. The drive home was my next challenge, every passing building, person, billboard evoking memories I didn't even know I had. I wonder if it was the same for him? Would he see a lousy ice cream parlour in the streets of Soho and think back to our Santa Monica beach dates? Would he see a semi-detached house painted pink and think back to walking hand in hand through the colourful streets of San Francisco?
He wouldn't. Why would he? He never loved me. It was never love. Those were his words.

'Isabella, we're just kidding ourselves here.' His thick accent spoke down to me, he let out a laugh with this sentence. I struggled to see what was funny. 'But-' I tried to speak up but I was cut off, 'Look, I know what you're going to say-' This time I cut him off.
'Oh really? You do?' I raised my voice.
'Yes, all that b*llsh*t about two years. You know that doesn't mean a thing? I was away on tour for most of those, while you were here doing God knows what.' He yelled at me.
I was stumped. What could I say? He was right. We got married when drunk in Vegas after I accompanied him to America, the rest of the time there was beautiful. But, once we arrived back home, the gloom of the UK made its way over us too. He was always abroad performing, and I was always out partying away my fear of losing him, the tabloid blasts only making things between us worse.
I sat back down in the sofa and buried my head in my hands, 'you're right.' I said, which was muffled between my hands and slight sobs. No hand came to stroke my back, no gentle voice telling me it will all be okay no matter what happens. Just Niall's distant and sarcastic tone, 'It's fine, I'm sure you'll get one hell of a payout.' And with that he disappeared into the bedroom he had spent a mere few nights in altogether and packed his bags.

An obnoxious amount of honking horns awoke me from one of our dark memories.

I felt so pathetic when I arrived home. Still somehow surprised to not see his Range Rover parked in the drive, or turning on the tv and it not automatically start playing golf. This was my life now, and I could only imagine what life now for him would be.. although I didn't want to imagine it at all...