Roses [h.s]

Chapter 2

The next few days are spent lounging around my house. If I'm not in bed trying to distract myself, I'm in the kitchen eating some cold pizza. I realize that this isn't going to solve anything and that I should be doing the things I normally do, but I just can't seem to get myself motivated enough to move anywhere further than down the hall. I try to keep my distance from Chloe - which is hard considering she moved in here when I came back - because every time she sees me, she tries to pull me out of the house, telling me that I have to do something, that I can't just stay locked up in the house. But I do just stay locked in the house.

The whole day after the party, I sat in my room with the lights out, the curtains closed, in a cocoon of blankets, just watching Harry sing across my screen. In that day, I managed to watch every single one of Harry's music videos, his interviews, and Dunkirk for the seventh time before I had to close my laptop so that I couldn't torture myself anymore. Harry was my best friend for over 20 years, we did everything together. We went to school together, we played together, and we even used to bathe together. And then once I moved to America and he had become busy with his solo stuff, and his acting or whatever, he seemed to cut off all contact. Didn't call me to say good luck before I moved. Didn't call me to say how sorry he was to hear about my mother. Didn't even have the common decency to attend her funeral. I know I should give him a chance to explain, but I don't have the strength right now.

This, the third day of my separation from the human race, has started off better. For one, it's almost sunny outside and I actually really want to get out of bed. Secondly, it's a Wednesday and that means that it's time for my weekly visit to the Styles' house. And thirdly, I'm fairly certain that Harry would have gone back to Hollywood or whatever by now, so I don't have to continue avoiding him. So that is why I actually get out of bed before 10 am. I'm sitting at the table fully clothed and drinking some tea. When Chloe walks in, she falters for a moment, positively stunned that I decided to leave my room.

"What's got you up early this morning?" She asks, pouring herself a cup of tea, her usual breakfast.

"It's a Wednesday, so I'm going to see Anne and Gemma."

"And Harry?" Chloe questions, raising an eyebrow.

"Preferably not. I think he's left now anyway." I look at the clock and see it's almost 10. "I'll be back soon."

The walk to Anne's is short, and I don't even have to think about where I'm going, it's just like muscle memory. When I was young, before school started, Mum and I would always go to the Styles house, every Wednesday at 10:00 sharp. It became a sort of tradition for us. Every school holidays, any day off, we would always make our way to Anne's. So, when I got back home, I just turned up at their house, because it was the one thing that made me feel closer to my mother. It gave me some sort of routine. Anne and I would talk about anything and everything, making things feel normal for an hour, although the subject of Harry was very rarely broached.

I reach their house at 10:00 exactly, and right when I go to knock on the door it swings open to reveal Anne's smiling face.

"Maddy, I've missed you." Anne says, before pulling me in for a tight hug.

"It's been a week." I chuckle and she releases me.

"Exactly. Come on in and have something to eat." She says, ushering me inside. I walk in and make my way to the kitchen. I take a seat at the bench and watch Anne bustle around the kitchen, making breakfast.

Anne looks over at me, lifting up the teapot. "Tea?" I nod.

She makes me a cup, the exact way that I always have it. I hold onto my cup with both hands, leaning my elbows on the kitchen bench.

"Have you gone through any of your mum's things yet?" Anne asks. Before my mum was diagnosed with cancer, she had been planning on moving, so she'd started packing away some of our old things. She hadn't gotten around to unpacking all of them before she died and so the few boxes left over have been collecting dust in my old room.

"No, not yet."

Anne nods, she understands. I haven't gone through them because I know that as soon as I open a box, I'll be bombarded by memories of her and I won't be able to unpack even the first item let alone several boxes. There's a small silence as we both think of my mum, but it soon becomes unbearable.

"So, what was it like having Harry back?" I ask, changing the subject

"Oh, it's been great, I've missed him so much." She gushes. "Yesterday we went out, just the two of us and we caught up on everything. I'm so glad he's staying here for a bit longer."

I choke on my tea when she says that. "What?"

"Didn't you know? He's staying here for a month or two." Anne pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, staring at me quizzically. "I thought you guys talked about it at the dance."

"Well we didn't really talk at the dance. I mean I yelled at him a bit." She raises her eyebrow slightly and I sigh. "I'm just really mad at him okay? Like he just comes back and he doesn't apologize to me about anything but blames me instead. I just – I don't know. He missed mum's funeral."

"I understand, sweetie. You have every right to be mad at him, but you also should hear him out, he is your best friend. He has his reasons."

"Reasons that excuse him from being a douche?"

"That's for him to say. Everything happens in its own time, Maddy. When Harry is ready to tell you, he will, but until then you have to trust him." She says. As if on cue, footsteps can be heard from upstairs, gradually becoming louder. The stairs creak as weight is applied to them and Harry's voice can be heard over the sizzling of bacon.

"Hey mum, that bacon smells - Maddy?" I turn to Harry, who's standing there; looking shocked, to say the least. He's only wearing pyjama pants and I can see the tattoos speckled on his arms and torso. We stare at each other for a while before Anne clears her throat.

"Breakfast is ready, I'll be outside if you guys need anything." Harry waits for her to leave the room before he comes closer and speaks softly.

"Why didn't you wait for me?"

"I've done a lot of waiting these past two years." I mumble.

"Mads, I'm sorry, about everything. About missing the funeral, about not talking to you. I'm so sorry. Words cannot describe how sorry I am, for everything I put you through. And at the dance, I just I don't know. I guess I was mad. At myself, for not – for not being there for you. I know I hurt you and I'm sorry for that. Please forgive me, it won't happen again." Harry sounds desperate, to say the least. From the strain in his voice and the desperation in his eyes, I can tell that these past few years have been hellish on him too. And as much as I hate him for leaving me, I also can't help but love him so much.

"Why Harry? I just want to know why." I can feel tears rolling down my face slowly. Harry makes no move to comfort me, but instead looks like he's having his own internal argument.

"I ... I can't. I'm sorry, but I just can't, not now. But I will, when the time is right, I promise. You just have to trust me."

And I do trust him. I always have and I always will. After everything that's happened these past few years, I have every right to be mad at Harry, but I also can't help but forgive him, because he's my best friend and I need him and it looks like he needs me too. I nod slowly, because crying makes it difficult to speak. My vision is blurry and I can barely see Harry as he steps towards and takes me into his arms. I cry into his chest and he holds me tightly, mumbling more apologies. We stand there for a few moments before Harry pulls away, softly kissing the top of my head.

"I've missed you." I say softly.

"I've missed you too."