For the First Time | n.h.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

                My eyes prickled with tears that began to fall without my permission. For once I didn’t stop or try to hide them; I could use a good cry. I laughed briefly at the thought; all I’d been doing for the past three months was cry. It was sad and I was tired of it.

                I breathed slowly, trying to bring all of my emotions back down to earth. There were things I needed to do. I walked into our bedroom and grabbed the largest bag I could find. Without paying too much attention, I shoved the majority of my clothes and belongings inside. It was difficult because many of the things here belonged to both Niall and I...I decided to leave those things behind. He could keep them if he wanted, or throw them away, whatever.

                I continued to wipe away the tears I was trying to ignore as I packed up the remainder of my things. Of course, I couldn’t cram everything into the two bags I grabbed, so I just took what I most wanted to keep. I really didn’t have much, I realized. Niall and I shared a lot more than I thought...

As I set my bags beside the front door, I took once last look at our apartment. I tried to smile; tried to see the good in the situation. It might hurt like hell now, but once upon a time Niall made me happy. That’s what I wanted to remember.

                My gaze lingered fretfully on Niall’s jersey, which still hung flat off the back of the sofa. It was one of his favourites that he always used to wear when watching football; sometimes even when the team wasn’t playing. I often teased him about it, but he would just shrug and grin at me with one of those contagious smiles.

                Despite what my brain was telling me, I picked the jersey off the couch and added it to my pile of belongings. I knew I shouldn’t do this; I didn’t need another reminder of Niall. He was on my mind twenty-four hours a day anyway...but...it was just one thing. Niall wouldn’t miss it anyway; I knew he had replaced it, just like everything else.

                Alright Megan, I took a deep breath, it’s time to go.

*

NIALL’S POV:

I waited until the next morning to go to the apartment. I was torn between thinking I was too early and too late. I had been struggling with myself for hours last night; should I chase after Megan, or should I let her go? Ultimately, I couldn’t bring myself to chase her. The look on her face at dinner was so broken and hurt...I was too much of a coward to face that again. She didn’t want to see me; she didn’t want to hear me; she didn’t want me to come chasing after her. She wanted her best friend and, somehow, I was no longer that. What I was now, I had no idea. I felt like...nothing. No words seemed sufficient enough, so I stuck with that.

                I tried getting drunk last night. That seemed like a good idea at the time...fuck, I was an idiot. Not even drinking made me feel better. I only ended up passing out in my hotel room; still partially sober and completely alone. That just made things worse.

                I moved at the pace of a sloth up the stairs to our apartment, terrified of what I would find when I got there. No, it was what I wouldn’t find that terrified me. If the place was empty, which I had a gut feeling it was...well I’m not sure I could handle that.

                I took my time unlocking the door, but eventually I had to go inside. Immediately, the familiarity of the space hit me. It was like coming home after a long vacation and finally being able to sleep in your own bed. A smile tugged at my lips but never completely formed.

                “Megan?” I called out, my voice loud in my quiet surroundings. I waited several minutes for a response...but of course none came.