When I woke up the next morning, Harry was slumped in the chair in the corner of his room. His eyes were open, vacant, staring. My chest grew tight as I remembered last night.

“Harry,” I spoke like a tiny mouse. He didn’t lift his eyes off of the floor. He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out an envelope and a small box.

“Happy Birthday.” His voice was hoarse and deep. He tossed them both at me, and walked out of the room.

He knew.

His eyes when I had told him.. desperately tried to convince him that I had no idea what had happened to make me sleep with Will.. I did everything in my power to stop from crying. I leaped up to chase after him, when I saw the items on the bed. My head ached and my mouth was dry. I leaned over, slowly. I picked up the envelope.

Inside, there was a ticket. American Airlines. First Class, to Chicago, Illinois. February 1st.

He had bought me a ticket to visit him, for his birthday. I picked up the second thing he had tossed away. A smallish, rectangular box. I prayed that it wouldn’t be anything expensive.

A small silver key, similar to one I had seen before, was presented in the box neatly. I knew exactly what it was. It was a key to his home, but not like the spare. This one had my name engraved on it in beautifully delicate italics. There was an inscription on the back. Happily. It read.

I didn’t understand what that meant, but I was overwhelmed at the thoughtfulness of the present. Then my head switched to confusion. If I had told him what happened, why hadn’t he gone crazy? Harry’s temper was terrifying, and I had always imagined him to pretty much kill me if I told him about Will.

It was even worse to see him just empty. Dormant, upset.

I crept along the hallway and down the stairs, sensing him in the kitchen. His back was placed to me, his arms on on the counter and hands covering his face. I cleared my throat, trying to be brave. He lifted his head but didn’t look at me.

“You still love him.” He stated, quietly. His whole body seemed to shudder.
“No, Harry, no.” I said, bringing myself to face him. He wouldn’t look at me. He even recoiled from me.
“You had sex?” He said, a look of disgust on his grey, sad face. “Why him? Why did you have to sleep with him?"
“Harry,” I started, but what could I say. “I don’t know what happened. I wasn’t willing, I’m sure of it..”
“So he raped you?” He said visibly angry, and I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me or whether he actually considered it as an option.
“Harry, the last thing I remember, was being with Eleanor.” I said, a single tear falling down my cheek. “When I woke up, I was-“

Harry held up his hand and shook his head. He let out a noise from his chest that just sounded like he felt real, deep pain there.

More silence followed.

“Didn’t you think of me?” He said, and his voice broke. It killed me to see such a strong, usually intimidating, centre of attention to look so small. “Thousands of miles away, thinking of you every minute of every day like an idiot?"
“I didn’t think of anything, Harry.” I sighed, a small sob falling out of my throat. “I don’t remember it.”
“Well then how do you know it happened?” He asked, looking at my eyes for the first time.

I looked at the floor, wondering if he was really going to get me to answer that question.

“Well?” He asked, and his voice was raised, losing patience. Suddenly his eyes dropped.

I knew it had become a rhetorical question.

“You were sore the next day.” He said, answering himself. I almost retched at his words, feeling like I needed to take a multitude of showers, feeling dirtier than ever. I didn’t dare answer him.

“You had better just leave, Annie.” He sighed, finally. “This is done. It’s over."

I quickly looked up at him, my eyes begging. I knew I had no right to, I knew I deserved to be kicked out onto the streets, but I felt like this relationship was too good to throw away on an asshole that took advantage of me when I was blind drunk. I wanted to explain to Harry, to convince him, even. But there was no way I had the guts to argue with his decision.

“I love you.” I whispered, defeated. He shook his head, not looking at me. He walked closer to me, but still didn’t acknowledge my gaze. He brought his face close to mine.

“Thanks for ruining any hope of me ever trusting anyone again.” He said, and then he walked out and I knew to be gone by the time he got back.

---

Those words seemed to haunt me, after that. I assumed Harry had got the first flight back to America because he was papped at Heathrow airport later that day.

I don’t think my body could hold anymore sobs or dark thoughts. I didn’t know how many days or nights had passed, but Harry’s birthday came and went. Valentines Day came and went, too. I didn’t even want to look online at photos of whatever he was doing. Maybe he’d found someone new already.

My family treated me like an unexploded bomb in that time period. My brother, Frankie was the only one who really dared approached me, but he never brought up my love life. I think everyone in the house knew that I probably felt pretty ashamed of a month-long relationship to someone I had actually fallen in love with. I was punishing myself, not eating, not sleeping, not even showering. Eleanor had still tried to contact me. I wondered if it was to tell me what a bad person I was, or maybe she didn’t even know why we had broken up. There was nothing in the newspapers about an infidelity, everything just sort of went.. quiet.

But of course, the media doesn’t go quiet for long.

“An, can I come in?” Frankie asked, peaking his head in my door. I nodded and sat up on my bed. He paused before taking a seat at the end of it.

“I know you don’t want to talk about this.” I knew Frankie felt awkward. If you have a brother you’ll know how much they hate to talk about feelings and love with a family member. “I saw that Harry kid in the newspapers and apparently he’s been seeing a lot of this Kardashian girl.."

My head snapped up and I looked at him, wanting to lose my temper, hoping he was playing a joke on me. But I had never seen Frankie look so sincere.

“Kendall.” I mouthed, knowingly. It had been two, three weeks since Harry left, and he was already trying to fuck me over in the head by being seen with her. Even though I had no control or right to be mad about it.

“Was it bad terms?” Frankie asked, after I paused for a while. I deliberated about telling him anything - it was hardly appropriate to tell my older brother that I’d been a complete whore and that was why my boyfriend had moved on with the Princess of California.

“Yeah.” Was all I said, shortly after.

Frankie embraced me in a warm hug, something I don’t think he had done since I was a child.

“Well, the three months is nearly up, maybe you can talk when he’s home.” He said, and left the room.

Shit. It was nearly up.

---

Harry’s POV

I wasn’t sure how it happened, but Kendall had started to hang around with us a lot more. She called upon herself to make more frequent visits to the tour, and when asked why she would just say she enjoyed her company. It worried me when she stopped bringing Kylie along, but in other ways, it pleased me. I knew Annie would be at home, seeing images of us together. I hoped that they made her feel awful. In other ways I hoped she knew I only had eyes for her.

I need to shake those thoughts. The girl completely chewed me up and spat me out. I had never let myself open up to someone. Never been completely wrapped up and needed anyone, especially a girl.

My old ways were starting to flood back into my brain. On several occasions, I had ended up in bed with Kendall, embraced in hot neck kisses. I’d get as far as taking her shirt off and, I just couldn’t.

She wasn’t Annie. Nobody was.

I felt upset, knowing how close the three months was to being over. If me and her were still together, I would have been overjoyed. Excited to go home. Planning the future.

Now I was just trying to rebuild my life. I looked down at myself, sitting in the back of the bus with a beer. My body was tired, my hair was greasy, my clothes ratty. One person had done this, to me and Annie. One asshole not even worthy of the air he breathed.

He was only one fucking person I wanted to see when these three months were up and we got back to the UK. I needed answers, and it wouldn’t be a friendly visit.

Notes

Bit of a filler but I wanted to update because you all asked so nicely :) Thanks for the love!!