memories. h.s

Thirty five

𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑅𝑇𝑌 𝐹𝐼𝑉𝐸
_____

When I was eight, I got in trouble for nearly pouring my Mum's entire bottle of red wine down the sink drain. I was upset and in a mood that she was drinking and thought the best way to stop her from drinking it was do dump it out.

I didn't release just how much trouble I'd get into for doing this so when a fifteen year old Harry walked into the kitchen, sent by my Mum to see what was taking me so long in here, I was caught red handed with the bottle tilted downwards the red wine pouring out of it.

Harry yanked the bottle out of my hand, trying to save as much as he could before it was completely empty. He looked at me with disappointment and told me I needed to go show my Mum what I did. Confronting people was something I alway never liked doing. It made me nervous and uneasy no matter if it was to confess to something I did or to confront someone about something they did.

Harry took ahold of my hand and the near empty wine bottle and I stood there with my head lowed in shame with tears streaming down my little cheeks as Harry set the bottle in front of my Mum explaining what I was doing in the kitchen.

I was yelled at, told repeatedly that you don't waste someone's alcohol like that because these things cost money. I was also grounded for a few days after.

Sitting on Harry and i's bed, legs criss crossed and lightly shaking, my phone laid in between Harry and I. The device felt like it was taunting me, screaming to just pick it up and dial my Mum's number. The same mother who decided kicking me out of the only home I've ever known.

"Just tell me when, baby," Harry's soft, gentle voice soothes the nerves coursing through me a bit. He reaches a ring clad hand out to me, rubbing my leg with his thumb in circles.

This time I had Harry on my side. On my team. I wasn't calling my mum to confess to a wrong doing I've done so why should this be so difficult? Perhaps it was fear of rejection? Confirmation that what my parents did to me really happened? That I couldn't say.

"I'm ready." The words fly out of my mouth before I could hesitate and talk myself out of doing this. This needed to happen, this needed to happen for not only me, but Harry, my mum and my dad. We all needed closure if not being involved in my life anyone is what they truly want.

With a nod of the head and one last comforting squeeze to my knee, Harry picks my phone up and unlocks it with my passcode.
I watch his thumb as he taps at the screen to find the contact we are looking for. When he pauses, his thumb hovering over the screen, I assume he's found my mum's contact.

After meeting my eyes asking for final reassurance from me, I nod again and he taps the call button.

While it's ringing, my nerves pick up again so I crawl over to Harry sitting in his lap and cuddling into him. The line rings and rings and I almost think we won't get an answer when I hear a faint "hello?" Coming from my phone.

"Lillie?" I hear the voice again. I can tell Harry wasn't expecting an answer and was stuck on responding.

"Uh, no. This is Harry," Harry finally responds after a moment.
I knew Harry would know how to handle this conversation from all his years of dealing with ridiculous questions from journalists that he's had to worm around. He was using all his professionalism for this conversation and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't hot.