Dear Harry

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Rule Number Nineteen: Don't waste your time on someone who will never change. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result.

I laid on the bed in Tom's oversized t-shirt for the rest of the weekend. I hadn't even made it work this morning. My throat was raw from throwing up the ice-cream I had bought and I couldn't get my guilty ass out of bed if I tried.

I could tell Tom was becoming more worried about me as time went on. I didn't want him to think it was cold feet or the latter so I explained it was just the flu. Surprisingly, my phone was littered with texts and phone calls from Harry. I simply ignored them as fast as they came.

The sun had set and I still laid on top of the feather down comforter in complete darkness. I was waiting for a divine moment to help me get back on my feet.

I grew more angry with Harry as the moments passed. The more I thought about it the closer I came to snapping.

Again the phone vibrated on the nightstand and I knew exactly who it was without looking. I groaned grabbing the device.

I simply typed a kind 'fuck off' before throwing it on the floor. It was the first response he had gotten. But the text was clearly the worse decision because he came back with a vengeance. My curiosity got the best of me. I wondered what else he could possibly say to me.

Come downstairs to the parkade, we need to talk

I debated whether or not to go. He was right, we needed to talk. I had to settle this and have him know that he wasn't welcome around me anymore. That we wouldn't be seeing each other again. I wanted him to understand the seriousness of what we had done.

I pulled myself from the bed, creeping out the front door as Tom laid asleep on the couch, the television flashing on his face. He looked so peaceful that jealousy swelled inside of me. I couldn't be though, I had done this to myself.

My appearance looked as if I had seen hell, even the large sweater that I wore over my leggings was wrinkled.

When I came down the cement steps I saw Harry's black Range Rover right away. It sat in the visitors parking space just by the door.

I opened the heavy black door, not making eye contact as I crawled inside to sit in the passenger seat. Just to speak and get it over with, just like ripping off a Band-Aid.

The seat warmed my legs from the cold air that had made its way into the garage. His sun was still on, his hair mussed as his gaze was set forward.

Did he feel as horrible as I did? I couldn't remember the act and I was grateful for that.

Closing my eyes to even my breathing, I spoke. "What happened Friday night?"

I needed him to confirm it so that I didn't feel crazy. Although my gut feeling told me that I was right.

"I don't know Annie" he slowly shook his head looking down at his lap. The nickname caused my blood pressure to rise, and even though his response wasn't telling, he knew the truth.

"Bullshit!"

"You know exactly what happened. And it was a horrible, horrible mistake. I tried being nice to you because Tom, for some insane reason, thinks you're a good person. You're so important to him, which is kind of ironic. Because I don't think you really care about him" I kept my voice level not allowing it to rise. I couldn't let this spiral out of control. Not until I said what I needed to.

"It was a mistake, we both had too much to drink. We don't have to speak about it ever again. And when you call off the wedding this week you can just blame it on cold feet" Harry's face was washed out, guilt and his horrendous try at splitting us up sinking in. How did he deal with himself?

Offended I scoffed, "Cold feet? I'm not calling off the wedding Harry".

He finally turned to face me in his seat, his arm resting on the steering wheel. Harry was shocked, confused about what I had just said. Once the words had caught up with him, he snapped.

"What do you mean you're not calling off the wedding, you fucked me!" Harry could be scary when angry. I involuntarily backed away in my seat. The sight of this caused him to soften.

"Hey, I didn't mean to raise my voice" he grimaced, reaching over to grab my hand that rested on my lap. I moved mine away as soon as his harm skin touched me.

My eyes began to water, the state I was in was already too fragile. I had been so good for my whole life and now I couldn't even look at myself in any sort of reflective surface.

Harry must have hated me, hated us, to be so persistent. It was my fault as much as his because it did take two to tango. But I wanted him to have some sort of remorse to show me that he wouldn't come back and play with my emotions.

"I don't know what you want with me, Harry. None of this makes sense, what has made you so interested in me? Are you trying to make me see your side, to realize that I don't want to marry Tom because I did something out of drunk stupidity?"

"Don't flatter yourself, I'm not pining for you. You're far too boring for my taste. We had sex because I'll stick my dick in anything that gives me the time of day. And you did it because you can't handle the thought of never being the girl you desperately want to be. Confidant, superficial and modelesque-" I didn't allow him to finish his sentence, my hand coming hard across his face. A loud slap filling the car.

Harry grabbed my wrist tightly in his hand, his eyes full of passion. My other hand went to push his chest to let me go.

"Go ahead, hit me, call me a fucking bastard. It won't solve the mess you're in and the mistake you're about to make" he cursed, letting go of my hand. My bottom lip trembled as my brows furrowed.

His chest heaved and I felt defeated, coming into this car was a horrible mistake. Nothing I thought would happen did. I would be the best wife I could be.

Grabbing the handle, I opened the door not turning back until I went to close the door.

"I'm happy and I'm going to marry your brother. And you Harry, you can be miserable forever but you're going to leave me the fuck alone!"

And with that, I slammed the door shut before he could speak. With my fists tightly clenched I made my way back up the stairs leaving, what I hoped, was a painful part of my past.

©2017, thirteen13blue

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