Over Again
Chapter 23
Chapter twenty-three
The lid lifted and nestled in the burgundy-velvet holder, an elaborate ring sparkled up at me, its diamonds welded ever so delicately in the precious metal that it gleamed in the fading light of dusk. I held the box in my hands daintily, watching the light flicker and figment into rainbow streams of light. The ring itself was white gold, perfect for my pale ivory skin tone. A large diamond rested in the centre, giving the ring a very traditional appearance, whilst other much smaller diamonds were embedded deep into the ring band itself so that the entire ring shone.
This is what my mind had conjured up; what my eyes took in was another matter altogether. The reality of the situation was this: a beautiful pair of white gold earrings in the shape of swallows, resembling the ones on Harry’s chest stared up at me from within the box. My body froze, my fingers unwilling to touch the earrings, feeling like eventually my gaze would transform them into the ring my mind beheld; it never did. Harry smiled at me, but I watched as it dimmed and then slipped away altogether.
“Do you like them?” he asked me worriedly, nudging the little box closer to me.
I nodded, struggling for words.
“They’re lovely,” I said weakly, trying to force a smile on my lips which were set in disappointment. Harry seemed unconvinced.
“They reminded me of that first night that I came back to Holmes Chapel, on New Year’s Eve?” he said, hoping for a response. All I could give him was another nod. “I showed you all my tattoos and you asked me why I’d gotten the swallows,” he continued, the smile coming back at the memory.
“Wow,” I tried to sputter out. “That’s sweet,” I said. I almost felt like crying and I had no idea why. Maybe it was because I felt like an idiot. Maybe it was because Harry didn’t want to marry me, or worse, had never even thought about it. Whatever it was, I fought hard against those embarrassing tears.
“You hate them,” Harry said simply, watching my expression as I attempted to conceal my anguish.
“No, Harry – ” I tried to interject, but he cut me off.
“No, it was stupid, you look like you were completely expecting something else,” he said, snapping the lid closed so that is startled me. He threw the box in his inner coat pocket and ran a hand threw his hair.
“Harry, I loved them, really, don’t be upset,” I said, choking on my air as the sobs built in my throat. Inexplicably, I felt rejected, even though I knew he loved me, I felt worthless in that moment. His face immediately softened at my expression and his hands reached out for mine.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” he asked me.
“Nothing, I’m stupid, that’s all,” I looked down at the table, breaking away from his inquisitive gaze as my eyes welled up with embarrassment, disappointment and shame.
“No, no don’t do that, don’t pull away from me like that, Babe, look at me,” Harry pleaded with me. I shook my head, fighting harder against my emotional break; I was making a scene and it was embarrassing, but I couldn’t stop it. “Sarah,” he breathed, reaching up to my face and tilting my chin upwards, forcing his gaze upon me. I rolled my eyes and allowed myself to break, but just a little bit. The growing lump in my throat made my speech strained, and a couple stray tears found their escape from my careful guard.
“I thought,” I started but bit down on my lip, mortified to have to say the words out loud. I shook my head again, unable to tell him the truth.
“Come on, just tell me,” he begged, his tone infused with anxiety. I didn’t; I sat there, mute, controlling my emotions. Harry leaned back in his seat and ran a hand through his hair again before placing his head in his hands. “This is not the way I pictured this evening going,” he sighed. He lifted his face up, searching mine, questions burning deep in his eyes. “Why won’t you let me in?” he said in a whisper, half to himself and half to me. He leaned back again, becoming more agitated. “I thought we were closer than this, since when do we keep things from each other?” he said, becoming frustrated.
“I thought it was a ring!” I said in a rush, my eyes closed tight. Tears threatened to overflow, but I held back, my eyes flying open to watch for Harry’s reaction. He looked confused.
“If you wanted a ring, all you had to do was tell me –”
“No, Harry, you don’t understand,” I sighed in exasperation. “It’s not the kind of ring you just ask for!”
He looked at me, waiting for me to continue. I looked around the crowded restaurant, and was pleased to see that no one was paying any attention to us, that made this a bit easier.
“I thought you were going to propose,” I breathed quietly. Harry’s eyes widened and he rested against the back of his chair, his brow furrowed; utterly bewildered. “I saw the box in your pocket the other night and then you brought me here and started talking about how Robin proposed to your mom here I just thought –” I tried to explain myself, but the more I spoke, the more idiotic I felt. “I’m so stupid,” I sighed again, the feeling of rejection pressing down on me with all of its hefty weight. Harry sat across from me, silent. That made this so much worse. For so long we sat like that, neither one of us speaking.
The waiter eventually came back to our table and spoke in a tone that was clearly inappropriate given our present tension that could be felt miles away.
“Are we ready to order?” he smiled down at us. Harry made no effort to reply, and the awkward sensation continued to grow in the pit of my stomach.
“I just want to go home,” I breathed. Harry’s eyes shot to mine and then turned to the waiter.
“We’ll just take the cheque,” he said brusquely.
“Mr. Styles, you haven’t ordered anything...?” the waiter said in a tone of confusion. Harry pulled a bill out from his wallet and handed it to the waiter.
“All the same, I think we’re done here,” he said firmly. The man took Harry’s money and nodded.
“Very well, Sir, have a good evening,” he said, which he clearly regretted as soon as the words escaped him, finally cluing into the tension emanating from our table. The irony of his statement made me want to cry; it was supposed to be a good evening, but along the way things had gone so wrong. The whole trip back we barely spoke, a drastic change from our previous banter; an alteration we both noticed but chose not to comment on.
We got back to the hotel at eight o’ clock, far earlier than everyone had anticipated.
“How’d it go?” Niall asked when he saw us coming down the hallway. He took in both of our expressions then looked at his phone to check the time. “Oh,” was all he said before sensing the awkwardness between us and escaping into his room. Luckily, we didn’t encounter anyone else, and managed to quietly enter our room.
Harry threw his jacket on the table by the door and walked into the room without pause, flopping his body down on the couch where he swiftly turned the TV on. I placed my things next to his jacket on the table and walked tentatively in after him. The urge to cry was back, but I denied it; we needed to talk.
“Are you really not going to say anything?” I asked him. He stared blankly ahead at the screen and when he did turn to face me, it was like he was looking right through me, far off and distant.
“What do you want me to say?” he finally replied and I inched closer to where he was sitting on the couch.
“Anything would be better than you just pretending like I don’t exist.”
He sighed loudly and turned back to the TV.
“I could never pretend you don’t exist,” he muttered. I thought he looked upset, or maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see again. I was about to turn, to go and change, when he spoke again. “Why?”
I breathed in heavily.
“I already told you why, I saw the box, Robin and your mom –”
“No, I know that, but why were you so upset when I didn’t?” I stared at him. Did he honestly not get it? Did he not love me the way I loved him? It petrified me to think he didn’t.
“How can you even ask me that?” I said, anger building inside of me. “For days I thought you wanted to marry me, I pictured everything and, I won’t lie, at first it all scared the shit out of me, but then I realized; I’m so in love with you, you’re all I’m ever going to want! And now, to find out that you were never even contemplating it! I feel – well, I feel completely rejected and utterly worthless!” I exploded at him. Angry tears threatened to spill, but I didn’t care.
He shook his head at me.
“That’s ridiculous! Sarah, we’re only twenty! Do you really think that’s realistic? I don’t even see why you’re upset!” He was becoming equally angry, pushing me further over the edge.
“You don’t see why I’m upset?! That’s WHY I am upset! I feel like I’m the one who always loves more! That you can’t even imagine a life with me as a married couple scares me to fucking death!”
He stood up and walked towards me.
“No, don’t try to turn this on me! Don’t blame me for your trust issues! You can’t measure how much someone loves you based on their daydreams, Sarah!”
I was shocked, I stepped back, taking myself away from his words. How dare he! Didn’t he realize that I wouldn’t have these “trust issues” as he liked to call them if it weren’t for him?
“I can’t believe you just said that to me,” I said quietly. “You want to know why it scares me? Because you’ve left me before, just in case you’ve forgotten. But this? You asked me to open up, and I did. I thought you’d be a lot more understanding, and it hurts me more than you’ll ever know to discover that you’re not.”
I walked into our bedroom and slammed the door behind me, unwilling and unable to hear him speak again because this time, I wasn’t holding the tears back.
The lid lifted and nestled in the burgundy-velvet holder, an elaborate ring sparkled up at me, its diamonds welded ever so delicately in the precious metal that it gleamed in the fading light of dusk. I held the box in my hands daintily, watching the light flicker and figment into rainbow streams of light. The ring itself was white gold, perfect for my pale ivory skin tone. A large diamond rested in the centre, giving the ring a very traditional appearance, whilst other much smaller diamonds were embedded deep into the ring band itself so that the entire ring shone.
This is what my mind had conjured up; what my eyes took in was another matter altogether. The reality of the situation was this: a beautiful pair of white gold earrings in the shape of swallows, resembling the ones on Harry’s chest stared up at me from within the box. My body froze, my fingers unwilling to touch the earrings, feeling like eventually my gaze would transform them into the ring my mind beheld; it never did. Harry smiled at me, but I watched as it dimmed and then slipped away altogether.
“Do you like them?” he asked me worriedly, nudging the little box closer to me.
I nodded, struggling for words.
“They’re lovely,” I said weakly, trying to force a smile on my lips which were set in disappointment. Harry seemed unconvinced.
“They reminded me of that first night that I came back to Holmes Chapel, on New Year’s Eve?” he said, hoping for a response. All I could give him was another nod. “I showed you all my tattoos and you asked me why I’d gotten the swallows,” he continued, the smile coming back at the memory.
“Wow,” I tried to sputter out. “That’s sweet,” I said. I almost felt like crying and I had no idea why. Maybe it was because I felt like an idiot. Maybe it was because Harry didn’t want to marry me, or worse, had never even thought about it. Whatever it was, I fought hard against those embarrassing tears.
“You hate them,” Harry said simply, watching my expression as I attempted to conceal my anguish.
“No, Harry – ” I tried to interject, but he cut me off.
“No, it was stupid, you look like you were completely expecting something else,” he said, snapping the lid closed so that is startled me. He threw the box in his inner coat pocket and ran a hand threw his hair.
“Harry, I loved them, really, don’t be upset,” I said, choking on my air as the sobs built in my throat. Inexplicably, I felt rejected, even though I knew he loved me, I felt worthless in that moment. His face immediately softened at my expression and his hands reached out for mine.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” he asked me.
“Nothing, I’m stupid, that’s all,” I looked down at the table, breaking away from his inquisitive gaze as my eyes welled up with embarrassment, disappointment and shame.
“No, no don’t do that, don’t pull away from me like that, Babe, look at me,” Harry pleaded with me. I shook my head, fighting harder against my emotional break; I was making a scene and it was embarrassing, but I couldn’t stop it. “Sarah,” he breathed, reaching up to my face and tilting my chin upwards, forcing his gaze upon me. I rolled my eyes and allowed myself to break, but just a little bit. The growing lump in my throat made my speech strained, and a couple stray tears found their escape from my careful guard.
“I thought,” I started but bit down on my lip, mortified to have to say the words out loud. I shook my head again, unable to tell him the truth.
“Come on, just tell me,” he begged, his tone infused with anxiety. I didn’t; I sat there, mute, controlling my emotions. Harry leaned back in his seat and ran a hand through his hair again before placing his head in his hands. “This is not the way I pictured this evening going,” he sighed. He lifted his face up, searching mine, questions burning deep in his eyes. “Why won’t you let me in?” he said in a whisper, half to himself and half to me. He leaned back again, becoming more agitated. “I thought we were closer than this, since when do we keep things from each other?” he said, becoming frustrated.
“I thought it was a ring!” I said in a rush, my eyes closed tight. Tears threatened to overflow, but I held back, my eyes flying open to watch for Harry’s reaction. He looked confused.
“If you wanted a ring, all you had to do was tell me –”
“No, Harry, you don’t understand,” I sighed in exasperation. “It’s not the kind of ring you just ask for!”
He looked at me, waiting for me to continue. I looked around the crowded restaurant, and was pleased to see that no one was paying any attention to us, that made this a bit easier.
“I thought you were going to propose,” I breathed quietly. Harry’s eyes widened and he rested against the back of his chair, his brow furrowed; utterly bewildered. “I saw the box in your pocket the other night and then you brought me here and started talking about how Robin proposed to your mom here I just thought –” I tried to explain myself, but the more I spoke, the more idiotic I felt. “I’m so stupid,” I sighed again, the feeling of rejection pressing down on me with all of its hefty weight. Harry sat across from me, silent. That made this so much worse. For so long we sat like that, neither one of us speaking.
The waiter eventually came back to our table and spoke in a tone that was clearly inappropriate given our present tension that could be felt miles away.
“Are we ready to order?” he smiled down at us. Harry made no effort to reply, and the awkward sensation continued to grow in the pit of my stomach.
“I just want to go home,” I breathed. Harry’s eyes shot to mine and then turned to the waiter.
“We’ll just take the cheque,” he said brusquely.
“Mr. Styles, you haven’t ordered anything...?” the waiter said in a tone of confusion. Harry pulled a bill out from his wallet and handed it to the waiter.
“All the same, I think we’re done here,” he said firmly. The man took Harry’s money and nodded.
“Very well, Sir, have a good evening,” he said, which he clearly regretted as soon as the words escaped him, finally cluing into the tension emanating from our table. The irony of his statement made me want to cry; it was supposed to be a good evening, but along the way things had gone so wrong. The whole trip back we barely spoke, a drastic change from our previous banter; an alteration we both noticed but chose not to comment on.
We got back to the hotel at eight o’ clock, far earlier than everyone had anticipated.
“How’d it go?” Niall asked when he saw us coming down the hallway. He took in both of our expressions then looked at his phone to check the time. “Oh,” was all he said before sensing the awkwardness between us and escaping into his room. Luckily, we didn’t encounter anyone else, and managed to quietly enter our room.
Harry threw his jacket on the table by the door and walked into the room without pause, flopping his body down on the couch where he swiftly turned the TV on. I placed my things next to his jacket on the table and walked tentatively in after him. The urge to cry was back, but I denied it; we needed to talk.
“Are you really not going to say anything?” I asked him. He stared blankly ahead at the screen and when he did turn to face me, it was like he was looking right through me, far off and distant.
“What do you want me to say?” he finally replied and I inched closer to where he was sitting on the couch.
“Anything would be better than you just pretending like I don’t exist.”
He sighed loudly and turned back to the TV.
“I could never pretend you don’t exist,” he muttered. I thought he looked upset, or maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see again. I was about to turn, to go and change, when he spoke again. “Why?”
I breathed in heavily.
“I already told you why, I saw the box, Robin and your mom –”
“No, I know that, but why were you so upset when I didn’t?” I stared at him. Did he honestly not get it? Did he not love me the way I loved him? It petrified me to think he didn’t.
“How can you even ask me that?” I said, anger building inside of me. “For days I thought you wanted to marry me, I pictured everything and, I won’t lie, at first it all scared the shit out of me, but then I realized; I’m so in love with you, you’re all I’m ever going to want! And now, to find out that you were never even contemplating it! I feel – well, I feel completely rejected and utterly worthless!” I exploded at him. Angry tears threatened to spill, but I didn’t care.
He shook his head at me.
“That’s ridiculous! Sarah, we’re only twenty! Do you really think that’s realistic? I don’t even see why you’re upset!” He was becoming equally angry, pushing me further over the edge.
“You don’t see why I’m upset?! That’s WHY I am upset! I feel like I’m the one who always loves more! That you can’t even imagine a life with me as a married couple scares me to fucking death!”
He stood up and walked towards me.
“No, don’t try to turn this on me! Don’t blame me for your trust issues! You can’t measure how much someone loves you based on their daydreams, Sarah!”
I was shocked, I stepped back, taking myself away from his words. How dare he! Didn’t he realize that I wouldn’t have these “trust issues” as he liked to call them if it weren’t for him?
“I can’t believe you just said that to me,” I said quietly. “You want to know why it scares me? Because you’ve left me before, just in case you’ve forgotten. But this? You asked me to open up, and I did. I thought you’d be a lot more understanding, and it hurts me more than you’ll ever know to discover that you’re not.”
I walked into our bedroom and slammed the door behind me, unwilling and unable to hear him speak again because this time, I wasn’t holding the tears back.
Notes
Little bit of a heavy chapter, anyone see that coming? Comment below! Fun fact: Hit the 50,000 word mark woo-hoo! Thanks SO much for reading along, I love you ALL! As usual, please rate/comment/subscribe xx
Ah!! They're too adorable. Really, they are! And I just have this sneaking suspicion that a proposal is very near in their future. Maybe even at/ after his mom's wedding. I can't wait til the next chapter!! More please!!!
3/16/15