Voodoo [H.S.]

Eleven

He continues to stare me down and I'm having a hard time reading him. He's barely said anything throughout this conversation and I'm hoping with everything in me he can find it in himself to believe me and let me leave peacefully. It feels like a full five minutes have passed between us with both of us frozen to our spots, waiting for someone to say something, anything, but in reality it's probably only been a minute.

"Don't leave."

I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding and look at him with confusion all over my face. "Wait, what?"

"I'll figure it out with Jim. You're probably going to have to sign a lot of paperwork. But just, don't leave," he sighs, running his hand through his hair.

"What are you going to tell your boss?" I ask hesitantly.

"I don't know yet. Don't worry about it," he answers shortly, moving back to the living room room area.

I have so many questions running through my head and so many things to say, but I decide to leave them for now. I have to be to work in an hour and I know Harry now has a lot on his plate. What I don't understand the most out of everything is why he is covering for me. He doesn't get anything out of this, and I know he still doesn't trust me. There is one thing however that I have to ask before he takes off.

"Are you not going to ask me what my real name is?"

"No," he says straightening up, patting down his pockets and walking back to the kitchen with his shoes on. "I still don't trust you completely, but I understand wanting to start over. As long as this has nothing to do with us, then it's none of my business."

I breathe out a sigh of relief, still standing in my spot against the counter watching as he opens the door to my apartment. "I'll call you later. Be ready to come to Voodoo when you get off work," he says, shutting the door behind him as he walks out.

I sink down to the floor, not bothering to move any more than that and I pull my knees up to my chest. How do I keep fucking things up so badly? I never wanted any of this for myself. Why can't I be more like Shaye? She tried to warn me about Alex, and now look where I am.

This is all his fucking fault. This never would have happened if he was just good person. No one ever believed me that he would hurt me the way that he did because why would they? He was perfect to everyone else. A hard worker, romantic, outgoing, friendly. Who wouldn't love him? He had such a hard life growing up but he persevered and made the best out of his situation. He was going to marry his high school sweetheart and live out his days providing for his family.

I did everything for him, despite it all. Our relationship was so toxic, but he's all I ever knew. When you're with someone for five years during the most formative years of your life, it doesn't feel like you have options. Not when everyone around you is saying you're crazy and that I'm taking things out of context, because there's no way Alex could ever do such a thing.

Or maybe this is my fault. It is my fault. I'm so fucking stupid. I was the one who let it get as far as it did. I know how I am. I'm stubborn, loud, and not afraid to push back. I never was. I tried so hard not to tolerate disrespect and now look where it's got me.

But like I always do, I pick myself up and keep moving. There's nothing else I can do, everything is out of my control. It's always out of my control. So I get ready, make sure my appliances are turned off, turn off the lights, and walk out of my apartment, pretending like I'm not a complete wreck of a person and the man I am realizing I am simultaneously terrified of and completely enamored with doesn't flip my life upside down in one way or another every time we're near each other.