Marrying a Boxer | H.S.

Chapter 28

*Warning: this chapter contains material that can be triggering to some people. Read at your own risk.*

HARRY

I've spent the past few hours thinking about Scarlet's words. Her outburst was pretty shocking and unexpected. I would've never thought she would ever get like that. Her words got to me, I must admit. I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees and put my face in my hands. I've had trouble to communicate how I feel since the death of my girlfriend. The pain I felt is something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. A part of me died along with her. Since that day, I swore to myself I would not get invested in a relationship ever again. That I would never open up to anyone again. I never expected my mother to force me to marry the daughter of her friend. These months I've spent next to Scarlet, I've been as cold towards her as I've been to any meaningless girl I've been with. The only exception is... Scarlet isn't meaningless. She's truly an amazing girl. And she is absolutely beautiful.

"Fucking idiot," I whisper to myself. I need to fix things with Scarlet. I can't just leave it alone.

I rush up the stairs and walk into our bedroom. I look around but I don't see her anywhere. I even check under the bed, but she is nowhere to be found. I head towards the en-suite and try to open the door, only to realize it is locked. "Scarlet?" I knock. No response. "Scarlet, are you in there?" again, no response. I get this weird feeling in my chest. "Scarlet, open the door!" I shake the doorknob but it does not budge. I take a few steps back and kick with force, breaking the door.

Nothing could've prepared me for the sight awaiting in front of me. I have never seen anything like this. A blonde girl lies on the floor, unconscious, skin pale and blood around her. It takes me a few minutes to realize that the girl laying there half-dead is my beautiful Scarlet.

"Fuck!" I kneel next to her and see a deep cut on each wrist. "Fucking hell, Scarlet! What did you do!?" I shake her shoulders, hoping to get some reaction from her to no avail. I tear two pieces from her blouse and tie them tightly to her wrists, trying to stop the blood from flowing, but it soaks through immediately.

"Maura!" I yell at the top of my lungs. My voice sounds terrified, even to my own ears. "Maura!"

"Yes, Mr. Sty- oh my god!" she screams as she sees Scarlet.

"Call an ambulance!" she stares wide-eyed, hand covering her mouth in horror. "Don't just stand there, Maura! Fucking move!" I throw my phone at her and she catches it. Her hands shake as she dials. I turn my attention back to the beautiful dying girl. "Oh god, Scarlet. Please don't die. Please don't leave me. Fuck!" Just by looking at her, there seem to be no signs of life, and that absolutely terrifies me. I can't lose her.

What feels like hours later, paramedics rush inside the bathroom, telling me to get out and give them space. I stumble out and feel like my legs will give up under me.

I follow the paramedics as they carry her out on the stretcher, and get in the ambulance with them. My hands are covered in dried blood. I feel moisture on my face and realize I'm crying. She has to get better. She has to survive.

Once we get to the hospital everything is a blur. Scarlet is rushed to the emergency room and I am told that I can't go in with her.

I go to the waiting room and pace around, looking like a maniac to the other people here. I've run my hands through my hair many times, I've cried more than I ever have. I can't help but think that this is all my fault. All the things she bottled up because I refused to have deep talks with her caused her to explode. If I had paid attention to her needs this wouldn't have happened. She would not be fighting for her life this very moment.

I ask every nurse I see walk out of the ER about my wife, but no one tells me anything. I'm sure they are all annoyed at me, or thinking that I enticed her to harm herself. Which, if you think about it, I basically did.

Hours later, I see a doctor approach me. "Mr. Styles?" he says.

"Yes, that'd be me," I whisper. "How's my wife?"

"We were able to save her. Had you found her an hour later, she wouldn't have made it. She lost a great amount of blood, so we did a transfusion. And she also overdosed on Xanax, so we had her stomach pumped." The doctor explains to me. My heart sinks. "Were you aware she was taking this medication?"

"No. I did not even know she was suicidal."

"Unfortunately, this is not your wife's first attempt. She tried to commit suicide at age 12. She's had psychological treatments, and she's taken Xanax the past two years." I start feeling worse about not having a good relationship with her. I had no idea about any of this. I recall her telling me she had gone through depression before, but I was not paying much attention to her at that moment.

"Can I see her?" I ask, hopeful.

"Yes. She's in intensive care and suicidal watch. Follow me." He takes me through different hallways, and he finally stops outside Scarlet's room. The doctor motions me to go inside. I take a deep breath and slowly walk inside.

My beautiful Scarlet lays on a hospital bed, needles in her hands and arms, machines beeping. Her skin is pale, there is absolutely no sign of that pink tone she usually has. Her blue eyes are closed, her lips white. She looks... dead. If it wasn't for the heart monitor marking steady lines, I would think she had passed to another life.

I drag a stool next to her and sit down. I'm afraid to touch her. Her wrists are bandaged. I feel terrible. This is all my fault. I should've stayed with her instead of leaving. I should've come in earlier. She almost died because of me.

I caress her cheek. "God, Sweetheart, I'm so sorry," I whisper. "If I had been a good husband to you this would not have happened. I know I am not good at communicating my feelings, and that most of the times my anger gets the best of me. I've fucked up so many times. I went as far as physically hurting you. I should never had laid a hand on you, Scarlet. I've treated you so bad since we met, and I shouldn't have. Since my girlfriend died, I swore to myself I would never fall in love again. That I would never show my feelings to anyone else again. I had been doing so well on that until I met you. Literally, the first time we met, I fell in love with you. And I was so angry at myself for falling so fast, that's why I would be such an asshole to you all the time, and I regret it. I really wanted to say it when you asked me to. But I had such a hard time bringing the words out of my mouth. I was scared. I'm sorry, baby."

I gently take her soft hand in mine and kiss her knuckles. "I love you, Scarlet. I love you with all my heart."