Mr.Styles (Harry Styles)

Chapter 46

5 Years Later

It has been five years since I left school, three years since I've stepped foot in my childhood home.

I trudged through my last couple of months of secondary school and then threw myself into college, granting myself a place at the University of Edinburgh- I never planned to go so far away but I needed it.

I needed to get away from this small little town, away from what happened, away from him...

My mother, bless her, never insisted on my return instead she just visited me in Scotland whenever the pain of missing one another became too much- she treated it as a holiday and if I'm honest I think getting away from home did her some good as well.

That's all over now, I have graduated with a degree in English and now I await at home until I can find a job and a place in the city- I can't stay here.

After the night Shay got arrested everything had changed and as much as I tried to hold myself together, it did not work. School was different and it wasn't just because I was having to take a class with the man I once loved but because Aria was involved too.

After she found out what had happened to Shay she came clean to me, how she helped her and begged me not to turn her in to the police.

It was too late, Shay had already told the police everything and one very sunny Tuesday, Aria got dragged out of class by a few officers.

The trial was long and hard, lasting until halfway through my first year at college, I wish I could say that the trial made me feel better- that Shay going away for a list of crimes that I hadn't cared to remember and Aria getting expelled and community service allowed me to feel normal again.

It didn't.

I still had the nightmares of the faceless black hood and I haven't watched Pretty Little Liars since.

When I moved away, I felt more myself, like the dark cloud looming over had finally dissipated. I actually made friends at university- went out more, even got a few boyfriends and one girlfriend, but I could never shake the feeling of being watched and sometimes if I wasn't concentrating I would even flinch when my phone went off.

I never spoke about it, only to my mom- I didn't want anyone else knowing what had happened to me, the town newspapers that reported on my during the trial were enough to ensure that I never wanted people to look at me with such pity ever again.

Some people looked at me like I should be ashamed of myself, like I was the one to blame, I tried not to let it get to me- tried to remain strong.

As I pulled into the driveway of my childhood home, I couldn't help but feel nauseated- maybe I should have stayed in Scotland, at least there I would feel safe.

I sighed, turning off the engine, sitting and staring at the house like it was going to turn into this massive monster that would eat me up whole. I sat in the car and watched as my mother opened the door, standing in the porch observing me trying to gather the strength to leave the car and walk inside.

Fifteen minutes later and I was still in the car, gripping the steering wheel like it was going to fade away if I let go.

That was when I felt a hand on mine, my mothers' hand- she had given me some time but now I needed to leave.

I needed to do this.

Once I was inside, she sat me on the sofa and made me a cup of tea, most people would relish in how familiar this is, would relax back into the nostalgia.

Not me, I'm nauseated by it.

The tea helps though, and small talk with my mother is enough to distract me from thinking about the time we had tea on this exact sofa- the last time I kissed him.