H.P.O.V.

It doesn't make sense. Things are getting intense now.

My back is sore. My limbs crack every time I take a step. My eyes are agitated. I need sleep. I need a bed and not the couch I've been sleeping on.

Four days have passed.

Louis has been here for all of them.

Louis has been trying to prove something to me.

Louis is fucking with my head.

"Still here?" Louis sniffs walking into the kitchen. I keep quiet. Now I don't even flinch when he rolls his eyes and curses my name softly. "Go home," he tells me this every day... Ever since Presley was discharged and brought home.

I'm not going home. I don't have one of those anymore. Presley is here. My baby is here so I am here.

I shake my head and try to crack my back.

"You have a bed at your flat. Fuck off there."

"Or I could use one of my own here." I just need him to unlock one of my guest rooms.

He glares my way. I can feel the anger from where I am. I can feel the dislike like if it were snow and I was outside with no jacket.

"You don't have anything here. You stopped staying here months ago."

I keep quiet again. This time I do flinch when my bedroom door slams closed. Presley is there. She and Louis sleep where we used to sleep. Where we used to love. Every Time that door is slammed closed and I hear the familiar lock being clicked my heart plummets and my eyes water.

Presley doesn't come out of that room. Louis brings her food in there and since there is a full bathroom in there she has no reason to come out.

Louis won't even tell me if she's okay. He shuts down any question or concern I express for my wife. He says she's not mine anymore. That I have no business asking and to fuck off home with my bitch.

I can't respond because I deserve it all. I deserve the anger and isolation. So I take it. I take as best as I can. Sometimes I'll go out to my car and sit in there as I contemplate ending it all.

"Harry?"

My head snaps up and I meet the eyes of my older sister. I haven't seen her in months. Since she found out about Natalie. She doesn't answer my calls and she'll send a car for me when I get too drunk instead of coming down herself.

"Gem, what're you doing here?"

"I'm here to see my sister," she mumbles waving the 'get well soon' balloons and bear in her arms. "What are you doing here?"

"I want to be close to my wife," i shrug standing. "This is as close as Louis will let me get without being violent," I sigh.

She puckers her lips and nods, "Good."

She bypasses me without a second look and knocks on the door. She says who she is and I watch with envy as she is allowed access.

Twenty minuets pass before the door opens again. I expected it to be Gemma not Louis.

"You're leaving?" I asked shocked.

He rolls his eyes and shoves me out of the way as he grips his backpack tighter. "I'll be back tomorrow. I've got errands to run. Gemma will be here keeping my girl company and making sure the likes of you doesn't get anywhere near her." I want to correct him and tell him that she is not his. That's she's mine but I bite my tongue because I know he is looking for a reaction. I'm too tired to give him one.

Before he walks through the open door he tells me, "Go home and leave us alone, Harry. Better yet go visit your girlfriend in the hospital. Heard she's in rough shape after the accident her drunk ass caused that could have killed your wife."

"What?" The blood drains from my face. I feel my throat dry up.

"You're such shit," I've grown used to these names he calls me. I've grown used to all of his anger because it seems it will be the only thing I get from Louis ever again. I can't blame him. I won't.
"Presley and I called the hospital yesterday to find out how the bitch was doing. I was almost too happy when they told us how much pain she was feeling. Presley, however, still wished her a happy recovery. I wished her another broken leg. Make sure she gets that message."

He slams the door in my shocked face. I sit on the couch with my head in my hands.

Of course Natalie would do this. Of course she'd get stupid drunk and decided to drive herself home. Of course my wife would be the one who gets hurt.

Anger courses through my blood. I reach for my phone on the coffee table. I dial my lawyers number and wait with a bouncing knee wait for her to answer.

"Harry?"

"Marge, I need you to press charges on Natalie."

"Didn't you just pay two months of her rent? Now you want to have her arrested?"

"Just do it," I snap leaning back against the leather sofa. "Make sure the bitch goes straight from the hospital to a cop's car."

"Hospital?" She stammers, "Why is she there?!"

"For being a useless idiot who was drinking and then decided to have a joy ride."

"Okay, so, why does that affect you? You told me you were done with her."

"I am." I hiss between my teeth and rub my forehead trying to sooth my anger. "Just fucking do it. File it under reckless driving."At this point I want to shove my head through a window and cry out in anger.

Before I can Marge speaks up again, "Why does it matter anyway?"

"Because she could have killed my wife! Take the bitch down or I'll find someone who can do it without asking questions."

"I'll take care of it," she says quickly and clicks the call.

I fall back in silence and run my hand through my hair. I don't know what else I'm supposed to do. I have never been so lost and afraid. I've never been so angry with myself and I've never missed anyone as much as I miss Presley.

I had it so good with her. I was so happy. She was mine. Then that stupid accident happened and something flipped in my mind and I lost it. I let myself lose everything. I hurt her because I stupidly believed I didn't care.

But I care.

I care so much about my wife. I love her. I am so in love with her and I've been so cruel to her.

I let the water fall from my eyes and squeeze them when I hear a door close. I don't think I'll be able to handle another person reminding me that I caused my own demise. I deserve it, I know I do but I don't think I can hear it right now.

"Harry," Gemma says slowly and surprisingly gently when she notices my state.

"Hey," I mumble as normally as possible. "Please, Gem, tell me how she is. Is she okay? Is she in pain? Does she need anything? Please just tell me."

She looks at me critically before sighing and plopping down next to me. "She's sleeping. She's okay."

I feel relieved that she was okay. I wipe my face and take a deep breath. "Thanks."

"You should go home and get proper sleep. Take a shower, eat something--"

"I'm not leaving my wife until I see for myself that she is up and moving."

"Harr--"

"Gemma, look, I know everyone hates me for what I've done and I don't blame them. I know I don't deserve to be anywhere near my wife and I deserve everything I'm getting right now but I will not leave. She is still my wife and I love her. I love her so much--" I can't finish because a sob rips through my throat and comes out violently.

I curl into myself. I finally let out my desperation. "I love her...I love....so much." I keep chanting this over and over.

I jump when I feel arms wrap around me pulling me close. I cry more because I know I don't deserve any sympathy but I'm so happy I've been given some.

"Shh, Harry, it's okay. Breathe, it's okay." Gemma murmurs against my head. She cradles me close and sighs. "We don't hate you. You let us down but we don't hate you." I cry when I hear that. I feel my heart twist and crack more. My hands shake, my mind is running wild, my mouth is letting out weak whimpers.

I am in pain. I caused this. I am the reason my wife has felt this pain. I hate myself.

"Hey, shh, we don't want to wake Presley up now do we? Poor kid has finally fallen asleep, Harry. Let's keep her that way, shh." I do my best to control myself. I force myself to quiet down and when Gemma feels it's safe she lets me go. "Did you really press charges on your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend," I hiss.

Gemma rolls her eyes, "Not anymore she's not."

"Yes I pressed charges on her," I tell her ignoring her previous statement. "Doesn't matter."
"Then why do it?" She pries. "Really, Harry, what's gotten into you lately? Who are you now?"

"I just want my wife to be okay," I answer weakly. I don't care if I never find myself agin or if I never recover from my bad image as long as Presley's okay. "Gemma, nothing else matters as long as she's okay."

"Funny," she sniffs, "You sound a lot like my brother used to. Before he became this self centered twitt."

I shrug because I can't explain how much I hate myself to her. Because she'll never believe how much I actually love Presley.

"I'm going to get going," she randomly lets out. She grabs her bad and stands. "Louis thinks I'll be here but you can just take over for me, yeah?"

I nod my head vigorously. I know What she's doing and I could cry with the appreciation I feel. I walk her to the door. She turns and looks me dead in the eye, "I'm trusting you. I'm taking a chance that my brother is still in you somewhere. If you make me regret this, Harry, I promise you I'll come after you myself."

"You won't regret this. Thank you."

She studies me for what feels like minuets before nodding. "Good. Fix this mess and God be with you if Louis comes home early."

She leaves then and I stay facing the closed door. The nerves have started to run through my blood and the realization that I am finally alone with my wife after months is starting to hit me.

I take a few hundred deep breaths and walk to our bedroom. I open the door as quietly as I can and peek inside. My eyes begin to water when I see her sound asleep on what used to be my side.

I want to lay with her and hold her close. I want to kiss her frown away.

I want my baby, my wife, back. I need her. I have a day to be near her.

Right now she is mine...Tomorrow I am willing to kill to keep her mine.

Notes

Lol all I asked for my birthday coming up was muffins. Lol. Muffins.