Love You Goodbye (h.s. au)

30

"You're not stupid."

"I am," he said firmly. "She still hates me. They both do. And they reminded me of it today. They're never going to forgive me."

"For what?" I asked and reached to place my hand against his forearm. "Whatever happened, I doubt they hate you for it. You're their child, they love you. They have to."

"They don't have to." He said, and I could hear in his voice that he truly believed that. "Love isn't unconditional, it's a choice. They didn't have to have me. They didn't have to keep me, or raise me. They didn't have to care but they did, and then I fucked it up. So they took it away. They chose to stop loving me and I-I deserved it. That's the worst part."

I sat up, looking down at him incredulously. How can he think he wasn't worthy of his parents love? What could he have possibly done? "Why would you think you deserve that?"

He stopped and his eyes that were on the ceiling, slid to me. He watched me for a moment and a frown etched on his face before he closed his eyes like what he was going to say would kill him. "I lied to you, you know."

"About what?" I asked cautiously, waiting for him to hurt me. Whatever he said, I wouldn't run. He needed me right now and I would stay, even if he tore me apart in the next moment.

"I had a sister. Samantha." He confessed softly and I felt both surprised and confused. Why would he lie about that?

"You have a sister?"

"Had. I had one."

Realization sets in and I felt a wave of sadness crash into me, pieces of why Harry is the way he is starting to set in. She died, and he was still grieving over her. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. It's mine."

What? "I don't understand how."

He grew quiet once again, eyes opening to meet my gaze. He turned on his side, tucking his hand under his cheek as he gazed at me. "Back in England, things weren't like this with my parents. We had a pretty close relationship back then but they were always busy with the family business, parties, and galas. They were always leaving me to take care of my sister but I was a sixteen year old boy who just wanted to date girls and hangout with friends. I didn't want to be around my twelve year old sister." He swallowed, blinking as he looked down at the comforter. "I treated her like shit. She annoyed the crap out of me, always bugging me to play with her. To take her to go get ice cream. Always in my fucking business," he laughed but it sounded sad, tortured. "I resented her for holding me back. I wasn't allowed to go out unless she came with me since no one else could watch her. Deep down, I knew it wasn't her fault. My parents should of gotten a sitter or been there for her more themselves but I had no one else to put the blame on.

"I was so mean to her," he whispered and a tear fell from the corner of his eye. "She got picked on at school too, ya know? And I never made it easier. I saw a boy push her at school when I picked her up once. You know what I did? Nothing. Except tell her that maybe if she wasn't so weird people wouldn't piss all over her." He sucked in a sharp breath. "What I should of done was get out of the car and beat that kid's ass for hurting her. I should of protected her. Maybe then things might of ended differently."

"What happened?" I spoke quietly, afraid to hear the rest but needed to know just as much as Harry needed to tell it.

He stared blankly at a spot on the wall behind me, seeming to fall into a daze or like he was replaying the memory in his head as he told it. "I was supposed to babysit her but I had already made plans to go to a party. My parents wouldn't allow me to go and took off to some gala so I was pissed off. Sam was bugging me to play with her again and I got so mad, screamed for her to leave me the fuck alone and go play in her room. I could tell I made her sad but at the moment I hadn't cared. All I cared about was the fact I had to stay back and take care of her while my friends had fun with out me.