How It's Going To Be [h.s.]

Chapter 65

When the ceremony concluded, I stood up and turned to leave the chapel. I glanced around as family and friends of the bride and groom were sauntering slowly out the double doors of the old church. My eyes were met by a pair of piercing green ones. I took a step backward and the backs of my thighs met the back of the pew. His stare disarmed me. What was once so familiar and comforting was now haunting. I looked away, unable to stand the pressure of his gaze.

____________

{Harry's Point of View} 

From the church, we were paraded to a nearby country club overlooking Los Angeles. Floor to ceiling windows displayed the impossibly green golf course. Crystal chandeliers hung over the room casting a warm glow. Countless tables were set up with white linens and silver accents. Enormous vases of white roses centered each table.

"Wish we could play a few holes before the bride and groom come in," Niall gestured toward the golf course. A flag marking the pin waved from the green. Two older men were playing the green; one was crouched down to aim his shot, the other leaned is weight on his putter.

"How much longer until they arrive?"

"Dunno," he sighed. "They're out taking photos. And the bar is taking forever to get set up."

I chuckled, "Typical."

"I'm headed to the golf shop to talk to one of the pros. Maybe I'll see about getting in a round or two tomorrow while we're still in L.A."

"Sounds good," I nodded absently.

"You could come with me. I could see about getting us both in."

"No," I shook my head. "Julia told me this morning I have a radio interview with Jeff and Liz tomorrow."

"Jeff and Liz? Brutal."

"You're telling me..."

"Right, well I'll be back. You okay alone?"

Alone. That's exactly what I was. "Yeah, Niall."

"Harry!" I turned around to face Whitley Brier, a model I hadn't seen for months.

"Whitley," I smiled politely.

"I heard rumors that you'd be here, but I wasn't sure."

"Yeah, Laura invited the whole band."

"How lovely," she smiled. "Why don't we take a photo?"

"Uh, sure."

Whitley pulled out her phone and stood beside me. She leaned in and pressed her cheek against mine. Her lips formed a pout and I felt mine tug into a small smile. She took one photo then repositioned herself and took another. Just as she was about to pose for a third, I pulled back. I knew these photos would end up on Whitley's Twitter and Instagram. Then they'd filter through Facebook and Tumblr and then to news outlets. I knew the rumors that would fly just from one photo. I knew the rumors would get back to Kate and hurt her.

"You look well, Whitley."

"Thank you, Harry. You...don't."

"Excuse me?"

"You look sad, Harry. Maybe stressed? Maybe you should take it easy for a bit."

"Thanks for the advice," I scoffed.

Whitley began walking away slowly with her hips swinging deliberately. "Don't shoot the messenger, Styles. Anyway, I'm off to say hello to another friend. Tell Kate hello for me!"