Gabby’s POV

 

 

I waited. I waited until eight forty-five and he still wasn’t awake. I didn’t want to annoy him by staying when I said I would go, so I left the note that I wrote on the counter next to the coffee pot.

Maybe he will read it, but maybe he won’t. Either way, I still feel a little bit better knowing that I at least let my feelings out in some way. I’ve always liked to write and it was how I expressed myself best, so I figured I could at least write him a letter before getting out of his life forever.

The only problem was that writing the letter only removed an ounce of weight off my chest and it didn’t help mend my broken heart whatsoever. That wasn’t the point of it though. The point was that I let him know how I felt. If he wanted to read it, he could. But if not, then I guess he doesn’t care anymore. What do I know? He could read it and then rip it up, burn it in a fire, spit on it.

What is wrong with me? Why does this hurt so much? What did I do to deserve to go through all of this pain?

I feel like I’m still pregnant with how emotional I’ve been since we split up. There’s no way that I am, it just feels like it with this emotional rollercoaster that I’m on. I would like for it to stop any time now; the sooner the better.

Since I followed Harry in my car, I had a way to leave without disturbing him. I quickly folded up the blanket that only got used to keep me warm and placed it on top of the pillow that I tried to rest my head on.

Last night was a sleepless night. I wanted to crawl in bed with him because I knew that was the only way I would be able to sleep, but that would just make me seem crazy.

I grabbed all my belongings after quickly changing and headed out of the hotel room, quietly closing the door so I didn’t wake him.

I know he likes to sleep, so why in the world would I have even had hope that he would be awake before I left?

When I finally got out to the parking lot, I went to my car and got inside, throwing my things into the back seat. I put the key in the ignition, but the engine wouldn’t start. I kept trying, but I got nothing.

You’ve got to be kidding me. This is not happening right now.

I sighed and closed my eyes. When I opened them back up, my attention was driven to something shiny under the passenger side seat.

I bent over the middle of the car and reached down to grab the item. My eyes went wide when I realised what it was.

The day Shawn kidnapped me he held me at gunpoint, but he left his gun in the car and now I’m finding it when my car won’t start. Well now I can’t call a mechanic cause if they see this thing they’re going to call the cops.

Fuck me. Fuck my life.

I looked back down at the gun and picked it up, holding it in my hand and trying to figure out how it worked.

Why, you ask? Well that’s simple. It’s because I’m done. There’s no point in living if all I feel is like I’m dying.

Harry’s POV

I paced around the room, occasionally glancing back at the letter. Why didn’t she tell me this before? Hell, why didn’t I know? I should have been able to tell.

But no, I was too blindsided by my denial of ever being happy again. I’m so stupid. I should have known by the way she acted around me.

Last night when I touched her and she gasped silently, that was a big clue. Just the fact that she didn’t ask what the hell I was doing was another one.

Even when she asked to stay with me. Sure she might have still been scared, but she could have went somewhere else and yet she asked to stay with me.

Why the hell didn’t I think about this before?

She was in literal tears when she kissed me and I thought it was because of the baby, but now I’m starting to think a big part of it was also heartbreak.

I’m wasting too much time thinking about how I should have known; I could be trying to find her and make everything better.

I grabbed my keys off of the end of the counter and left the hotel room, getting to the parking lot as fast as I could.

I’m sure she’s already gone, but I wanted to look around just in case.

What if she’s not here? Then where would she be? Her house, maybe? Dammit, I wish this were easier.

Just when I was about to lose hope, I saw her car. She was bending over the front of the car to get something. When she sat back up, my heart stopped.

What the fuck was she doing with a gun? Is she going to…No. No, she can’t do that. Shit, I need to stop her.

Her fingers started moving around the object and my heart was racing, but not in a good way this time. Right about now I was scared shitless. She can’t do this; I won’t let her.

I walked up to the passenger side door and pulled on the door handle, but it was locked. She looked up at me with tears streaming down her face and then looked back at the weapon. Jesus. God. Fuck.

I looked around for something, anything that could break through the glass. If I had to, I would just punch through it. Luckily this hotel lines their garden with rocks.

I went over to the gardening on the side of the building and ran back over with the rock, breaking through the glass of the window and reaching inside to unlock the door.

She was still looking in the other direction so the glass would get in her face when I opened the door, giving me the opportunity to take the gun out of her hands.

“No!” she screamed. Oh my God, she really was going to.

“Gabby, you can’t do this,” I said seriously, meaning every word.

“Why not? What’s the point in living? I can’t have a baby that lives, my family is dead, and you don’t want me anymore. Just let me do it. Please.”

“No, I’m not going to let you do it. We’re going to get through this. I can’t do anything about your family and I’m sorry that happened, I know what it feels like. You don’t know that you won’t have a baby that will live because you’ve only tried twice and you’re only twenty; you can’t give up. And that last part about me not wanting you…you’re right. I don’t want you, I need you.”

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