Bet On It | H. Styles

xxxviii

(the chapter is gonna bounce around a little between past and present. italics is the past!)

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I paced around my living room, preparing myself for the storm that is Patty Johansson.

I was going to tell her everything, following my heart rather than my head. But, I wasn't the least bit ready to spill my guts to her. She's my best friend, practically my sister, but, something tells me she'll look at me differently post-revelation.

And that made me absolutely nervous.

After I finally said the horrid word to Dr. Hill, I did feel better about myself. I am tired of letting this thing control my life. I tried to push it back so far in my brain that I'd hopefully just forget about it, and clearly that wasn't the case. I found it so hard to meet new people in fear that they'd hurt me just as much or even worse than Brown-eyes.

By people I mostly mean guys. Sometimes, they all looked like him and I couldn't help but shut down and cower away as I tried to cope with my pain. It really fucking sucks to live life like this, but, hopefully I'll be okay. I wasn't lying when I said I was okay being alone, but, sometimes I could really use someone by my side.

Dr. Hill did some research for me to find a support group of women like me and thought of it made me feel disgusted that there were more women like me; Who had to suffer like me and that more disgusting pigs in the world were able to pull it off. It's really nothing like the TV shows.

I bit my lip in anticipation as I awaited Patty's familiar knock on my front door. She decided once I moved in here that she wanted her own specific knock so that I would know immediately who was at my door and that I really could never ignore it. If I did ignore it, she'd be pissed for days, most likely giving me the silent treatment.

She landed last night, calling me at two in the morning to let me know of her arrival, not that I was sleeping or anything. I couldn't even get a word in before she started insisting on seeing me because even though I told her to not think about me during her honeymoon, she couldn't help but wonder. I rolled my eyes as if she were right in front of me, not at all surprised she didn't listen to me.

I took off of work for the day, not wanting to even try to mentally ready myself for heading back to work after a day today is bound to be. I tried to sit down on the couch, but I just stood right back up as if the furniture was on fire.

As soon as the clock struck noon, I heard Patty's unique knock at my door. It was two quick knocks, a space, two more quick knocks, another space, then three slow knocks. I let out a breath as I strode over to the wooden door.

Hesitantly touching the doorknob, nervous to reveal myself to her, Patty's voice, although slightly muffled, shouted through the door, "I know you're at the door, open up!" I did, swinging it open to showcase my pajamas still on and the rats nest on top of my head. Not to mention, I also looked like I hadn't gotten sleep in days, which, to be fair, wasn't far off. Last night I actually managed to fall asleep but Patty woke me, keeping me up for the rest of the night.

"Oh, Sweetie, you look. . . well, awful, to be frank," Patty sighed, pushing me aside so she could come in.

"Not all of us can go on a two week honeymoon to the Bahamas," I rolled my eyes, locking the door behind me as I followed her to my living room.

"I mean, you could, except, you wouldn't be going for a honeymoon. Unless, you're secretly getting married, not that I would know," she shrugged, plopping down onto the leather material, kicking her feet up to take up the remainder amount of room on the couch, I sat down on the loveseat perpendicular to her head, crossing my left leg over my right.