Roses [h.s]

Chapter 19

The car is quiet and the tension between Harry and I is so palpable that the driver put up the partition and started playing music loudly enough that he wouldn't be able to hear us, without a single prompt. The drive home seems so much longer, and it's so different to the start of the night. Then, we were smiling and laughing, close enough to each other to be entangled, and now I've pressed myself up as close to the door as possible, and I don't even know how Harry is sitting because I've been staring out the window for the past ten minutes. What a difference a few hours and three words make.

I sat outside in the cold air with another glass of champagne for about an hour after Harry confessed to me. Although the champagne barely lasted a minute. The breeze blowing against my cheeks made it easier for me to keep myself from crying. I was embarrassed at myself for acting so dramatically, for leaving Harry alone after he had just bared his soul to me, especially when I knew that all I really wanted was to say those three words back to him and finally know what it's like to kiss him. But there was still that part of me, a large part of me that felt as if Harry had fallen for some illusion of myself, of someone who was put together and stable and honest, and that he deserved better than what he would get. If I had stayed there with him, I knew it would've been the beginning of the end.

So instead I sat in the dark, arms wrapped around myself as I tried to ignore the cold, until I felt like I could see his face without crying. I walked back into the ballroom as if nothing had happened, talking and smiling with my relatives like my life wasn't crumbling apart at my feet. My eyes found Harry immediately, sitting at our table with a glass of something alcoholic, talking to somebody else and also pretending like what had happened an hour ago was some sort of bad dream. We barely talked, and we didn't dance again; even when everybody else was up on the dance floor and my little cousins tried to pull me up, Harry and I stayed seated and silent at the table as if both of us were there alone.

When the night ended, and the newlyweds had said their goodbyes and were heading off to whatever country for their honeymoon, Harry and I were quick to say our goodbyes and leave. I ignored my grandmother when she continued to tell me how handsome and sweet Harry was, and Sienna's heavily weighted words about keeping in touch, but I couldn't ignore the absence of Harry's hand on the small of my back as we headed out. And now we're back in the car, silent yet again and wishing that the drive home wasn't as long as it was.

I hear Harry sigh, and shift in his seat and it takes everything in me to stop myself from looking over at him. Once this car ride is over, I can stay away from him for a week and not have to worry about anything while I try and figure out what I'm meant to do next.

"Maddy." Harry's voice is soft and weary, quiet enough that I think that I can get away with pretending like I haven't heard him. I watch the empty roads fly past us, devoid of any emotion or thought except for the overwhelming need to get out of this car. The silence stretches on and on, my name still hanging in the air like an unanswered question and I can practically feel Harry's eyes on me, making the back of my neck itch. I adjust in my seat, one hand gripping onto the doorhandle tightly while the other balls into a fist so fiercely that I can feel my fingernails digging into the heel of my palm.

"Maddy, please look at me." Harry says, and there's a gentle forcefulness to his voice that turns my head. He's staring at me, his hair unruly like he had spent the whole car ride so far rifling his hands through the curls. He's slouched slightly in his seat and his legs are spread, it takes everything in me to look at his eyes and not at the way his hand rubs restlessly against his thigh. My face is blank as I stare at him, but his gaze is a torrent of emotions, each one crashing over the next, threatening to choke me with the words that I wish I had the courage to say. "I'm sorry."

I swallow thickly, my mouth suddenly feeling dry and my tongue heavy. I wish that I could tear my eyes away from his, but they seem to hold me there, and make it impossible to breath. When I can finally gather control of myself enough to speak, my voice comes out broken and awkward, as if I haven't used it in days. "Why are you sorry?"

"I shouldn't have said anything. I should've just kept my mouth shut." Harry breaks off and looks down at where his hands are resting on his knees. My eyes follow his, watching his fingers twisting and turning the rings on his hand. I wait, and I wait, for him to say something else because I can't seem to find any words in this situation. My brain feels empty and all I can do is continue to watch his fingers work deftly. He's silent for what seems like hours before he finally glances up at me, his eyes tortured but kind, and speaks softly. "I don't want things to be weird between us Maddy. You're my best friend, and you mean everything to me, I don't know what I would do if you weren't in my life. So, if keeping you in my life means that we just pretend like this never happened, then I'm more than happy to do that. I just - I had to see if there was even a slight chance that you felt the same as me, but if you just want to be friends, I understand."

God, he doesn't understand. He's so kind, and sweet and so unwaveringly considerate but he has no fucking clue. I know that's rich coming from me - who was so blind-sided when he said he was in love with me - but it still stands that Harry is so oblivious to the fact that I am undeniably in love with him. Yes, I've accepted it's more than a crush, it only took a mental breakdown at my cousin's wedding for that to happen. I am in love with Harry Styles, I am in love with my best friend and, somehow, he is in love with me. But here he is telling me that it's okay if I just want us to be friends. He has no clue. But how can I blame him when I never even tried to explain what I'm feeling, how can I hold it against him when I ran away from him when he confessed to me? If I were him then I would've thought that I only wanted to be friends too.

"Harry. It's not that. I-I ... I-" I can't say it. All this time the past few weeks thinking about how I'm in love with him, and now when it counts, I can't even say it. Every word I speak feels heavy on my tongue, feels like water in my throat and lungs. I sigh heavily, squeezing my eyes shut tightly trying to focus on not crying as I think about how I can tell him everything, without telling him anything. Harry patiently waits for me to gather myself, and when I finally open my eyes, he's still looking at me earnestly, waiting. "Remember when you first came back, and you couldn't tell me why you weren't at mum's? You asked me to trust you. That you would explain when the time was right. Well that's what I need you to do right now. I need you to trust me, and trust that when I can tell you ... when I can say everything, then I will. I just can't do it now."

Harry studies me, his eyes flickering between both of mine and my heart has stopped beating, and I've stopped breathing, as I wait for him to answer. It's only in this complete silence that I realise that the hum of the car has stopped, which means that we're parked out the front of my house. Sorry to the driver, but I'm more than willing to sit here all night just waiting to hear Harry say that he trusts me. Harry finally moves, running his hand through his hair as he sighs softly.

"Okay. I trust you. But for now, we just ... we pretend nothing happened tonight, okay?"

I nod, my heart breaking at the way he sounds so defeated. I start grabbing for my things, suddenly hyperaware that I'm on the verge of another breakdown, and that if I don't get out of this car quick, then I'm going to start crying.

"Just give me some time, okay?" I say, without looking at him as I reach for the door handle and open the door. The cold air hits me, giving me a moment of clarity where my head doesn't feel like it's full of tears, and I turn back to Harry. "I do love you though, Harry."

I don't know if he'll understand that the way I mean it, but I don't give myself the chance to read his expression. I get out of the car as quickly as possible, closing the door behind me without looking back, knowing that if I did, I would most likely not be able to hold back any tears. So instead, I rush into the house, trying my hardest to be quiet so I don't wake up Chloe, even though I can barely see the keyhole with my blurred vision. And then, without bothering to wipe off my makeup and to take off this ridiculously expensive dress, I crawl onto my bed, cradling myself tightly as I quietly cry, wondering how I can make myself not feel so broken.