“Sing me to sleep. Sing me to sleep. I’m tired and I want to go to bed.” Harry’s ringtone resounded from my pocket. It had been about an hour since Sammy had called Niall. I was scared to answer, but Sammy took my phone and answered the call for me.
“What in the bloody hell do you want, you filthy wanker,” Sammy asked coldly.
“Can I talk to Shelly, please?” Harry’s voice resounded from the speaker of my phone. He sounded tired. Sammy looked at me and I nodded weakly, holding my hand for the phone. She handed it to me and I took it off speaker.
“Hello,” I whispered.
“Hey, Shelly. Niall told me. I just need to clarify a few things,” he said softly.
“What is there to fucking clarify other than why you had to lead me on for 4 goddamned months?” I spat into the receiver.
“I wasn’t leading you on, love.”
“Don’t call me that. Just fucking tell me.”
There was silence on the other line, and then I heard soft sniffles.
“I made a big mistake, Shelly. I got drunk after a show and I hooked up with this little minxy fan and she got pregnant, but I don’t believe her, which is why I stayed with you. I really wasn't leading you on,” he croaked, his voice thick with emotion.
“If you don’t believe her, then why did you leave me?” I exclaimed.
“Because I can’t handle hurting you anymore. It was tearing me apart on the inside.”
“Well, you know how I feel right about now. I hope you have a nice, guilt-free life, Harry,” I spat before ending the call.
Sammy gave me a quizzical look, her way of signaling that she wanted to know what had happened. I sighed, tossing my phone aside.
“He fucked a fan and got her pregnant, but he claims that he doesn’t believe her,” I explained.
“Then why in fuck did he leave you?” Sammy spat.
“Because he was ‘tired of hurting me’” I replied, my lip curling with anger as I spoke.
“That’s bullshit! He knows good and damn well that that bloody baby is his!”
“Oh well. I hope he enjoys his fucking life.”