Theirs: a short story [harry styles] ✓

5

2nd May 2016 - 7 months and 24 days before the big day.

"Please can you take a photo of me?" Elenore asked, sweeping her pen across the high-quality card in a style of handwriting that I'd never seen before.

I looked up, frowning, and placed my pen down onto the kitchen table. "Why?"

"Because," she licked her lips. "I am currently writing 'Ed Sheeran and Guest' onto one of my wedding invitations and I think it's a moment that needs to be documented." 

I shook my head, smirking. "I'm not sure that's entirely necessary, Ele. You're probably going to be seeing a lot more of Ed Sheeran and guest, so now would probably be a good time to stop fangirling."

Her pen stopped and she looked up, narrowing her eyes at me in a way that made her look like a stubborn child. Instinctively, I looked over my shoulder, half expecting to find my own child causing mayhem somewhere but she wasn't in sight. Nola had stayed over at Anne's last night and the house had been eerily quiet without her.

"Don't be such a spoilsport!" Elenore whined but returned to Ed's invitation promptly.

Initially, the thought of handwriting 250 wedding invitations with Elenore had brought me nothing but dread and the fear of potential hand-cramp. But somehow, it had turned out to be quite therapeutic and the perfect distraction. 

Until Elenore started asking questions.

"So, have you heard from Harry?" She asked, sliding the invitation into a gold envelope and attaching the pre-typed address sticker. 

I released my pen again. I'd been stuck on the same invitation for the last ten minutes. "Nola has heard from Harry." I corrected her. "I haven't."

I slid my phone across the table, allowing it to bump into my best friend's elbow. Elenore - having known every password I've ever had - unlocked the screen and went straight into my text messages, her eyes twinkling with the excitement at the prospect of drama. 

"Oh wow!" She snorted after a few moments. "I particularly like his response to you asking if he'd arrived yet."

I cringed, remembering the words that had flashed up on my screen.

"Hi Nola, Dada has arrived. Missing you lots and speak to you soon. Love you xxx"

Elenore fingers continued to scroll through the conversation, her mouth parted in surprise.

"It continues much the same." I sighed. "Not once does he ever directly address me. I wouldn't mind but Nola can't even read."

She pressed the home button and slid the phone back. "I still can't get over the fact that he wanted to move you all to LA permanently."

Just the thought of that retched conversation made me shudder. "I know. Quite honestly, that was the most uncomfortable conversation I have ever had. It was so out of character for Harry."

Elenore hummed in agreement and we grasped our pens again, ready to return to writing. It was difficult to produce intricate calligraphy when anger and frustration wanted to flow out of you instead. Even the emotions I'd been consumed with when Harry had ventured onto the stage and exposed Nola to the fans for the first time seemed somewhat minor compared to how I felt now. 

I'd never felt more confused and...alone. 

"The thing that bothers me, Marn," Elenore broke the silence, chewing on her pen with a thoughtful expression. "Is that you you couldn't come to an agreement at all. You're both as stubborn as each other and clearly neither of you is going to be willing to compromise...so what happens now?"

"We shouldn't have to compromise!" I squeaked, dropping my pen again. It bounced off of the kitchen table and clattered onto the laminate flooring. "Harry only wants to move to LA to run away from his feelings. If he was genuinely serious about this, he would have put far more thought into it rather than only mentioning it because I coincidentally brought up a similar subject." 

Elenore grimaced in response to my defensive answer. "I get that, Marnie, I really do. But what if he comes back from filming and hasn't changed his mind?" 

I wanted to tell her to keep her questions and opinions to herself. Today was supposed to be a distraction from the events of the past few weeks, not an interrogation about them instead. Somehow Elenore and I always ended up in this situation; myself waist deep in shit and her with the cue cards and microphone demanding answers. 

"He can't just expect me to pack up my whole life and move it, just because he's not himself." I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and index finger. "That's not fair." 

Elenore's free hand extended across the table and curled around my own in a reassuring gesture. "I know, Marn and I'm really sorry you're going through this. If I hadn't put all that settling down and nursery stuff into your head then this would never have happened." 

I released my nose, allowing my hand to drop to the table with a thud. "Don't be daft." I told her sternly. "It was a conversation that evidently needed to be had. Otherwise, Harry probably would have eventually presented me with three one-way tickets to Los Angeles booked for the next day and I wouldn't have known a thing about it." 

Elenore stifled a laugh. "Possibly. But still, I feel somewhat responsible." 

"Let's just not talk about it anymore. Today is about your wedding invitations and the ridiculousness of inviting all these celebrities and mine and Harry's issues are not going to get in the way of that." I announced before bending down and retrieving my pen. "So, let's crack on."

Elenore nodded once but didn't comment and within moments, I heard her pen scratching against the invitation furiously as if trying to erase any evidence that the conversation had existed at all.  

I just wished the same procedure could be carried out in my brain. 

When Harry and I finally got our acts together that night with Ben and the date from hell - things were supposed to get better. And stay better forever. These hiccups were never supposed to happen; these petty arguments and the lack of communication. We were supposed to be living our happily ever after...not tearing it apart. 

My fingers twitched to my phone. I was tempted to call him. But my phone flashed.

"Hi Nola! Daddy misses you more than anything xxx"

I released an incredibly unladylike groan and all thoughts of giving him a ring immediately went out the window.    

"Ugh!" 

a/n: Apologies for the delay! Enjoy :)