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: 5.4k words / Warning: Mentions of topics such as death, miscarriage, and grief / Song: It's Not The Same Anymore by Rex Orange County
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"The day after my baby died what shocked me the most was the sun still rose, and the post still slipped through my mailbox, and I still got thirsty, and the birds still sang, and the traffic lights still changed colour . . but my world had stopped, my planet had stopped spinning."
- Zoe Clark-Coates
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I tried to stay there, beside him and with him, but I couldn't. The stillness had returned and I was sucked into its world once again, watching time pass in front of me. Waking up was the hardest, knowing what I had come back to and not wanting to move, let alone leave the bed. It wasn't ours and I was glad for it, if it was the only thing that made me feel a hint of that. I couldn't imagine lying in ours and my recommended bed rest was welcomed.
I didn't try to fight it, the emptiness that swam around inside of me, silencing my ears to Harry's words. His questions and pleas for me to eat. Somehow, I sat there and I did, sometimes. I ate and laid on the couch, watching Friends with him. He didn't think I noticed, but I did. I saw how he skipped the episodes where Phoebe was pregnant as we watched the show through for what must be the third time. I wasn't asleep like he thought when he tearfully told my dad over the phone what had happened. His sister. My brother. I pretended again when Skye stopped over with food that Harry took quietly, and when Myles did too. I listened in the bedroom or on the couch, my eyes closed, as he cried to his mom and then his best friend. I was there listening, but I wasn't there feeling. I couldn't.
I'd lost count of how many times I'd blinked and Harry had been talking to me, going on to repeat himself for what- the fourth time? How was I supposed to know?, I think this time as he stares back at me, a not so secret sigh following his words.
"I'm sorry. What'd you say?"
"I said you need to eat," he repeats, nodding his head towards the plate of food I hadn't touched. I should've known. Despite it being our favorite tacos from Pedro's, I couldn't even stomach the idea of actually eating it. Sighing, he's shaking his head as he dumps another helping of their chips onto his plate. "I don't want to argue about this again. You need to eat, love."
