In The Assistant, Becky Holte met the renowned and cold lawyer, Harry Styles. She went from being his personal assistant to best friend to coworker in the span of a few years. Now, 'dating her boss' has been added to the list with the possibility of...
Word Count: 10k words / Warnings: Distressing topics / Song: You Are the Reason by Calum Scott
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"But for their love, they were willing to risk life itself."
- The Mummy (1999)
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"Thanks for the ride."
"Of course," she answers. The silence is hard to bear, only making me feel all the more hollow. I couldn't decide lately if that was something I felt, or didn't feel. Our baby was growing inside of me, and so I shouldn't feel that way, but after the row Harry and I just had, I feel emptier than ever. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Shaking my head 'no,' I take a seat at the kitchen island as Skye opens the fridge, perusing the shelves. It had changed here since I'd left, what used to be our flat and now was just Skye's. Sure, a boyfriend of hers or two had lived here with her for a while, but it never lasted. I wasn't being rude by saying that, that was how she phrased it.
"Hungry? I could warm up some chicken soup."
"Sure, that sounds good," my answer was honest, and it only became more so as the smell trickled over to me from the microwave. Dipping my spoon in after she set it down in front of me, I watch as the mini tornadoes form in the liquid.
Sounds fill my ears, but they aren't that of her closing and opening cupboards. No, it's the sound of his voice and the disgust laced throughout it. Even worse, the disappointment held in it.
"Here, and if you want more I'll leave the bottle out, it seems like one of those nights."
Lifting my head, I find a tall glass of red wine sat in front of me. I was glad for Skye turning her back to warm up her bowl of soup, because my eyes couldn't have gone wider. Shit. I can't drink that, but how do I tell her that? She's my best friend in the whole world- well, platonic anyways. I'd known her since we were six, twenty two years for Christ sake. I had to tell her, but the same reason that this whole thing scared me shitless rose back up.
"You sure you're okay, Ree?" her question comes, and perhaps it's good timing.
"I-I can't, Skye," I tell her, pushing the glass away from me. Instead, I lift my spoon and blow on the broth that it holds.
