I Would Die 4 U | Sam Fender

Chapter One Hundred and Sixteen

Sam

"Rory?" I called, hearing the front door open and close. Gaining no response, I frowned and made my way into the hallway, seeing Rory without Thea. "Where's Thea?"

"At Dean and Harlow's," she told me, shrugging off her coat.

"Oh," I murmured, confused as she didn't meet my eye and brushed past me to put her coat away. "Er, is everything alreet, darlin'?"

"We need to talk," she told me. It was enough to make my stomach drop nervously, her glum demeanour and lack of affection upon her arrival home enough to spark my anxiety.

"About what?" I asked, keeping my eyes glued to her back.

She paused, dropping her head before twirling around. "I ran into Laura in Tynemouth," she announced, her lips pulled into a tight line. "She seems to think she's coming to the wedding."

"Aye, I invited her," I frowned, oblivious to the point she was making. "What's wrong with that?"

"Did yer stop to think how Harlow would feel about that?" she asked sharply.

"She's her mother, Rory," I pointed out.

"And?" she exclaimed loudly. "Harlow don't wanna see her and yer had nee right inviting her."

"She'll regret it," I told her. "Elodie's almost two already—"

"I'm gan stop yer reet there," she seethed. "That's not your decision to make. Laura abandoned Harlow when she needed her-"

"And if it were my mam, I know I'd want her around even if I was too stubborn to admit it!" I interjected.

Rory let out a quiet scoff and shook her head, a disbelieving smile painted on her pink lips, "Yer think this is just Harlow being stubborn?"

"She's the most stubborn person I've ever met in my life, of course it is," I huffed.

"She don't come close to you reet now," she commented, folding her arms across her chest.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I frowned.

"You're too stubborn to admit you're in the wrong," she scoffed.

"I'm not! Just 'cause you can't see that I'm doing this for Harls and Ellie, doesn't mean I'm wrong!" I exclaimed, throwing my arms up frustratedly.

"Oh, yeah?" she snorted humourlessly. "Then why ain't yer told anyone? How long've yer kept this from me? Lied to me?"

"Don't paint me oot to be the bad guy here, Rory," I frowned, feeling a pang of guilt in my chest at her words but I internally assured myself that she was doing this to gauge a reaction, to incite an apology. It wouldn't be coming from me though.

"You were just gan blindside Harlow. On wor wedding day of all days!" she exclaimed.

"She's her mam," I repeated.

"God, yer seriously can't see owt wrong with what ya've done," she scoffed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. "I canna do this like."

"What's that mean?" I asked.

"If I can't trust yer to be honest with me about sommat like this-"

"It's not that deep, Rory," I interjected.

"And if yer think that, more shame you," she hissed. "You weren't there. Yer didn't see how much Harlow struggled."

"You're overthinking this," I groaned. "This could be good for her."

"I canna argue about this with yer anymore if yer won't listen to us," she murmured. "In fact, I don't think I can do this if yer refuse to see what ya've done is wrong."