𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐓 || 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄𝐒

Chapter Four

It had taken me approximately three hours and twenty-three minutes to get ready, and that wasn't including the time I spent trying to get my hair perfect. I wasn't trying to look good for anyone specific, but I felt like I had to look good for someone.

Part of me was thinking that maybe Harry and Nancy invited me to torture me with their happiness but I knew better. Harry could never be spiteful, and Nancy, as far as I knew, was completely oblivious to mine and Harry's former relationship.

Still, I was panicky nearly the whole drive to their house out in the country. Not even the soothing voice of Sam Smith could get my nerves to settle.

I don't know what I had been expecting to see when I reached their residence, but it sure as hell wasn't what I saw when I got there.

A decent sized two-story house sat, adorned with pretty tanned shudders. A fountain sat in the middle of a graveled driveway, where cars were parked here and there, mine being the ugly one out of them all.

Harry had always wanted to live in a big house like this. He always told me he wanted a home that was spacious and away from civilization. He wanted a big yard and a pool, and he said he wanted me to always feel like we were in our own world.

Harry got what he wanted. But he had gotten it without me.

I sat in my car, gawking at the beautiful home, wondering how much it probably costed. My shoulders slumped in the black dress Nancy picked out. My hands held the steering wheel tightly, fingers drumming the faux leather.

I wasn't entirely nervous about seeing Harry again. Or Nancy for that matter. It was the socializing part that scared me. Knowing there would be other people there that I didn't know made my stomach turn.

Heaving a sigh and figuring it was best to go in, I grabbed my tiny black purse and stepped out. The car was locked, and as I started to walk, I glanced down at my revealing outfit, feeling like I was practically naked.

I never showed this much chest, nor did I ever wear something so skin tight.

"Well, I'll be damned. If it isn't Taissa Connors."

I turned around upon hearing the familiar voice that belonged to none other than Zayn Malik. He was leaning against a black 2014 Camaro, dressed in black. I'd be a liar if I said I didn't think he'd gotten even more good looking over the years, but I couldn't allow myself to admit that.

I crossed my arms over my chest to cover up and said, "You sure haven't changed. You still got that smirk you always wore, and your pants are just as tight, if not tighter."

Zayn pushed himself off the car and laughed, his boots crushing the dirt and rocks beneath them as he walked toward me. That same damn bad boy strut.

Shaking his head, he said, "Taissa, it's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Not long enough," I smiled.

He laughed softly.

"I'll admit, I was pretty surprised when Haz told me that he had a run-in with you. Guy's a funny lad, you know? Said you looked exactly the same. But I think I see a bit of crows feet around your eyes, and you've got a hint of grey in your roots."

I punched his shoulder and he laughed, rubbing the spot where my fist had made contact.

"You're still an asshole," I said, fighting off a smile as we walked to the house, my nerves finally calming down.

"Yeah, and you're still an ugly duck."

I was about to reply when the front door opened, Harry's eyes widening at the sight of us. Or was it because of me?