Elaina Basset
Last night after Harry and I talked, he went home.
He didn't make a big deal out of it. He just did what I asked him to do.
We left things on an interesting note with the hug. I don't regret it, but I just have this lingering feeling. I can't really pinpoint it.
I just hope it didn't make things weird between us. We've got this civil, almost friendly, ground that we're on...I don't wanna lose that now.
Waking up this morning, Isaac was next to me. I didn't feel like cuddling last night, but I did it anyway. He spooned me as he slept beneath the covers and I was overtop of them. He held me close, like he loved me, but he didn't say a lot.
I got out of bed and used the bathroom to freshen up when I woke up, then maybe twenty minutes later, Isaac did the same. Now, I'm laying in bed waiting for him to return from my bathroom.
I'm still in the t shirt from yesterday and a pair of pyjama shorts. I'm sure Isaac wanted to have sex last night, but I just couldn't find it in me to do it.
He still hasn't seen my tattoo or the scar on my hip. Those are questions that I'm just not ready to answer yet.
I hear the bathroom door open and I sit up a bit, looking at the direction to see Isaac walk back into the main part of the room.
Shirtless in a pair of plaid pyjama pants, he gives me a soft tired morning smile as he trudges back over to the bed.
His body crashes down, his head collapsing into my lap. I laugh at the sudden contact, my hands at my sides with my palms in the mattress.
"Morning." I say quietly.
He hums, then turns his head so he's looking up at me. "Jet lag is very real." he chuckles in exhaustion.
He starts to blindly pat around the bed for my hand, and when he finds it, he guides it up to his hair.
"Play with my hair, it'll make me less tired." he says, and I laugh as I start to thread my fingers through his roots.
"I think it'll have the opposite effect."
He exhales and looks up at me, his lips smiling as his eyes look around my face.
"You're so hot in the mornings, babe."
I scoff and roll my eyes playfully. "Shut up."
He giggles, his teeth showing as he lays in my lap. His smile softens as he examines my face until eventually it's just a closed lipped grin.
"Shut me up." he whispers. "Kiss me."
I blink, taking in those words before eventually just giving in. I softly smile as I lean my head down to his so our lips are close enough to meet.
It was a familiar feeling, I've kissed him many times. There was nothing new about it.
He separates our lips for a moment, grins, then brings his hand up to grab my chin and makes me kiss him again. He holds my chin, and starts to glide our lips together.
He starts tender and soft, both of our eyes shut. Then, he picks the pace up. With his hand on my chin, he sits up while kissing me. Before I know it, he's shifting on the bed so he's against my headboard and I'm straddling him.
His hands rest on my hips while he kisses me. This scene is something I've played through since high school—heavy make out sessions that result in sex.
He starts getting messy as he kisses me, tongue in my mouth with a firm grip on my hips.
"I've missed this." he whispers against my lips.
"I know." I say in return.
I should want to have sex with my fiancé. It should be something that I'm excited to do. But right now, I just can't find that within me.
He tugs at the bottom of my shirt, wanting to take it off while he sloppily kisses me. I knew I had to cut this short.
"Wait." I mumble into his lips, and he immediately pulls back to look at me.
His eyes graze my face and he furrows his brows.
"You don't want to?"
There wasn't any anger in his voice, just confusion. I inhale and sigh out, putting my hand on his shoulders and squeezing.
"I'm just not feeling it right now..." I say with guilt.
He pouts his lip slightly and raises his hand to my cheek. He tucks my hair behind my ear. "You okay?"
I nod quickly. "Yeah...yeah, sorry. I don't know why I don't want to. It's not you." I justify, feeling the need to explain myself.
He blows out through his nose, his chest falling as he gives my hip a squeeze. "Alright." he says.
"I'm sorry—"
"Don't apologize." he shakes his head. "I just want us to feel...normal."
I get what he means. If anything, for the past four months, things have been anything but normal. From being in a steady relationship, to a spur of the moment proposal...to me leaving across the world.
I frown. "I honestly don't remember what our normal is."
He nods like he understands, and the look on his face is solemn as he averts his eyes downward. "That's my fault."
I don't respond, instead I just watch his eyes.
Isaac looks back up at me, his eyes on my face once again. "I wasn't faithful. It's on me..."
"You know what you did was wrong." I say, trying to ease his guilt even just a little bit.
"I knew it was wrong in the moment too..." he says, looking at me with grief. "...and I still did it."
That cut me deeper than I thought it would.
Because he basically just told me that he knew cheating on me was going to hurt me...but he did it anyways. He didn't care about me enough to stop himself in that moment.
And I know that I'm not innocent of anything, but at least I have the self control to stop things.
So, yes, him saying that hurt me really deeply. And not because it was him, but because I tried...and the person who's supposed to love me, didn't.
And right there, sitting on his lap with his hands engulfing my hipbones, I felt lonely again.
Fuck, maybe that's just how I'm always meant to feel.
I feel a smooth palm on my cheek, and hear the concern of my fiancé. "But I came here...to show you that I do care about you. About us."
I hesitate when I look at him.
I hesitate because I know that a part of me should want to believe him. At least one fucking part.
"I love you." he whispers, thumb stroking my cheekbone.
One time, in my senior year, I painted a piece. It was an autumn scenery, a sidewalk where you could see dried crumpled leaves in the gutter, and then the healthier leaves still on the trees. Feet walk on the crumpled leaves, stepping on what's already broken and dying. The healthy ones remain untouched.
Little did I know, I was foreshadowing.
Isaac, he's a healthy leaf. Clean cut. Good looking. Perfect.
Me, I'm the leaves on the ground.
Dried out.
Exhausted.
Stepped on.
One thing about those leaves though, they were all once healthy, pre-autumn leaves too.
And pre-autumn me probably would have been able to tell my fiancé that I love him without having an ache in my heart because I feel like I'm lying.
Am I just stringing this poor heart of his along? To prove something to myself?
"I love you." I say it back, my voice unsteady.
He blinks, bringing my face to his with that hand still caressing my face. I shut my eyes when I feel the contact of his forehead against mine.
"I'll never hurt you again." he says.
Maybe, but I can't promise the same thing.
My eyes pinch, and I nod. I don't want to talk. I'm done talking. Nothing productive happens when my mouth opens.
His hand comes off of my cheek and falls into my lap. I open my eyes so the contact holds, and he musters a little smile.
"Enough sad talk. Let's change the subject." he says.
I agree.
"What are we gonna do today?" I ask.
He ponders, searching his mind before answering.
"Well, I know that Finn and Jessie wanted to check out a beach." he tells me. "I guess we'll get that out of the way. You don't have to come if you don't want to though. I know you don't know them well." Isaac says to me, thinking his offer of me not coming is making things better.
But I guess it's on me for not making an agenda while Isaac is in Italy.
I force a smile and nod. "Sure. I'll find something to do." I say.
Maybe this is for the best, because I've been trying to find a way to talk to Marjorie about everything. I need to apologize, without telling her what's really going on. Really, I just need to see her and make sure she's okay. I can try and meet her while Isaac is with his friends.
He shows his teeth with a grin, looking at my eyes with joy. It's crazy to me how quickly he can shift from sadness and regret to a gleeful smile.
"Maybe we can go out for dinner or something tonight?" he asks, kissing my cheek.
"I'd like that." I respond, his lips against my cheek.
We exchange 'I love you's' again and then the day went on. At noon, he did as he said—left me for the beach and Finn and Jessie.
It's fine, because I'm probably hard to be around right now. I'm not exactly happy. I want him to have fun.
I got ready, put on a pink sundress and a cardigan that covered my shoulders. I put my hair into a ponytail, and then I made the hard phone call to Marjorie.
I asked her how she was, and I asked her to meet me for lunch. I purposely chose a public restaurant because I know I won't be able to live with myself if someone comes after me and she's there and ends up being hurt as well.
I got into one of Zayn's cars and made my way to the restaurant at 12:30. Today's a busy day, so hopefully nothing happens.
I got us a table, ordered an iced tea and sat there stress eating breadsticks. I didn't plan out what to say to her, I didn't know what to say. How do I even bounce around this conversation and make small talk?
I lean back in my chair and take a deep breath, looking up from the table. And, as I look around all of the people, I see Marjorie with her purse. She sees me at the same time and she immediately smiles and waves as she heads over.
I smile back, happy to see her despite the circumstances. I stand up from my chair to hug her, feeling her arms embrace me tenderly, like we both really needed it.
"Oh, it's so nice to see you." she speaks into the hug.
I shake my head. "You have no idea."
She pulls back, placing her hands on my shoulders to get a good look at me. Her eyes hold a sincere sense of caring. She really wants me to be okay, she always has.
She smiles again, her eyes a little teary but she doesn't let those tears slip, not for a second.
As we sit, I pick at my nail beds to try and piece together what to say.
"Thank you for meeting me." I say.
She looks at me. "Of course." Now she examines my face. She takes a moment to take in how I look, and while I looked put together, I knew that emotionally I didn't look okay. "How are you?"
Still picking at my skin, I shrug. "I'm just concerned about how you're doing, honestly." I admit.
Immediately her face falls and she shakes her head, then reaches for my hand across the table. She looks me dead in the eye and says, "Do not worry about me, love."
"But—"
"You need to begin putting yourself first." she adds. "Putting others before yourself is going to get you in trouble some day."
My lips part as I keep my eyes on her. With my hand being held captive by hers, I felt like my mother was talking to me.
And that was a lot to handle.
My voice speaks quieter. "It wasn't my shop that was set on fire." I say. "I can't put myself first, not in this case."
Her mouth falls into a little bit of a frown as she holds my hand. "Derek and I will be okay." she tries to reaffirm, but I'm not having it.
"No, what happened isn't okay. I don't know how to repay you."
She immediately shakes her head in rejection. "No need."
"Marjorie—"
"Elaina, my darling, I mean it. You don't need to worry. Everything has been figured out."
I tilt my head, my brows furrowing.
"What do you mean by that?" I ask.
She smiles. "We've been given a new property. We'll be setting up our new shop next week. It was a generous donation."
My eyes widen. This was news to me. Her shop just burnt down and she already has a new place? And for free?
"New property? From who?"
Harry Styles
"Styles, some dumb fuck has had eight drinks and is drunk as fuck and won't leave. What should I do with him?"
The bartender speaks to me as I sit with my legs spread out on a lounge chair.
I've been at the bar with Zayn all day, working. But Zayn left just twenty minutes ago so now I'm running the place. It's midday and people are here eating and day drinking. Some obviously more than others.
"What's he doing?" I question.
"Tryin' to pick fights. Catcalling. Just being an overall asshole."
I throw my head back against the seat, letting out a groan of annoyance and an eye roll. Then, I get up.
"I'll go handle him." I murmur.
I push up my sleeves so they rise to my elbows, clearing my throat as I head from the back of the bar to the front.
There, I see him, some fuckhead hollering over the fact that he's being ignored. I hate when we have these fucking idiots to deal with, because technically I can't do anything to them if they aren't posing a physical threat.
He spots me heading toward him. "Finally. I haven't been fuckin' served yet. Fucking ridiculous."
I stand with my hands behind my back and give him a short smile. "I need you to leave my bar, sir."
He takes a second, his drunken mind processing my words, then he scoffs. He looks me up and down like what I'd just said was absolutely absurd. "Or what?"
He wants a challenge.
I smile. "You don't want to do this with me, I promise." I tell him calmly.
He stumbles off of his barstool, looking for a fight now. He takes a step toward me so we're face to face. I can smell the alcohol on his breath, and I can see the sweat leaking from his pores. "No, tell me. Or what." he challenges.
I remain collected and nonchalant. I actually find it quite amusing that this guy thinks he's threatening me. One shove to the chest and he's toppling over.
"Or we can take this out back." I remark with a shrug of my shoulder. "I have no issue beating the idiocy out of a drunk who's harassing my customers."
His smug face falls as he realizes he can't beat me. He steps down, mumbling something under his breath before swiping his bag off of the bar table and storming out. It's a shame honestly, I could use a punching bag right now.
Truth is, I've been in my head. There's a lot going on. From my father trying to contact me, to work, to whatever the fuck Elaina is doing to me...my mind is all over the place and I hate it.
I haven't talked to Elaina today, I'm giving her and that guy the space she wanted. It's killing me to do so, because I know it benefits him...but it also benefits her, and that's why I'm doing it.
Never thought I'd find myself doing something solely because it benefits you, Picasso.
But this isn't me giving up. I said I'd win her over and I meant it. It's just a matter of time.
I get ready to return to the back of the bar, turning my back to walk away, but I'm stopped when I hear my name.
"Harry!"
The familiar voice calls my name out, making my stomach leap as I turn around quickly.
Elaina walks through the doors of the bar, walking right up to me. I furrow my brows, not expecting to see her here.
"Picasso?"
"Sorry," she says, stopping just a few steps away from me. "I just had to talk to you, and I figured you'd be here."
I look at her, standing in front of me in her dress. Her cardigan was falling off of her shoulder slightly. Her hair in a ponytail with two loose strands that frame her face.
"What is it?" I ask.
"I was just at lunch with Marjorie," she begins "and she told me some interesting information."
Shit. I know where this is going.
I clear my throat and lean against the bar counter. "Oh? And what was it?"
She arches her brow, looking at my posture. "She's opening up shop again, in a new building. She tells me that it was a 'generous donation'."
I pout my lip slightly and nod like this is the first I'm hearing of it. "Hmm." I hum.
She shakes her head. "Why didn't you tell me?" she cuts to the chase.
I shrug, looking off to the side for a second. "I dunno what you're talking about."
"You offered her that spare building you own. The one you gave me a self defence lesson in." she says. "You said that building was for you, yet you're giving it to her to use."
I knew I couldn't keep my little act up, so I just blow out through my nose and walk away. I walk around the bar counter so that I'm on the inside where all the drinks are. I grab a glass and some whiskey. "It's not a big deal."
Elaina watches me pour a glass from the other side of the counter.
"It is, for Marjorie I'm sure, but me also." she says.
I peer up at her, looking at her maintaining eye contact. I don't know how to act in these moments. I know how Elaina feels about Marjorie, and I know that what happened is ripping her apart. I don't know what came over me, but I met with Marjorie and Derek and discussed handing the unused gym over to them.
My intent wasn't for Elaina to find out this way. I wasn't going to tell her at all, actually, not yet at least.
"Thank you." she says. "You have no idea what this means to me."
I press my lips into a line. "Just one less thing for you to worry about now. Don't sweat it." I brush it off.
She nods like she was truly grateful. She didn't have to vocalize it, because the look in her eyes told me enough.
And seeing that look from her instead of a look of hatred or a mere glare, I liked the feeling it gave me.
And I'm not one to usually like feelings at all.
I take a sip of whiskey, it stings as it goes down my throat. "So, where is he at right now?" I question, and she playfully rolls her eyes as she knows who I'm talking about.
"He's at the beach with his friends." she tells me and I nearly spit out my drink.
"Did you say friends? He brought his friends here?" my eyebrows raise.
She shrugs. "He didn't want to travel alone."
I shake my head. "Still..."
"It's not a big deal. I wanted to meet with Marjorie today anyways so it works out." she says.
God, she really doesn't know her worth in the slightest bit.
This guy comes to Milan because he wants to work things out after he cheated on her, and then brings his buddies along for a vacation.
I cannot wait for the day I get to punch him across the face. Patience is a virtue.
It'll happen though.
"Okay, well, I should be heading back now..." Elaina says before I can say anything else about her lovely fiancé.
I put down my glass. "I can walk you out to the car." I tell her.
She nods in thanks and I come around the bar counter to head for the door with her.
I open up the door and nod at the bouncer. I instinctively place my hand on Elaina's back to lead her through the threshold. Once we're out by the car, she gets the keys ready.
"Thank you again." she says. "I'll find a way to repay you somehow."
I shake my head. "Don't—"
Sirens.
I hear sirens, cutting me off. And before I know it, a cop car is pulling up next to the bar. Elaina and I look from the car to each other, both of us confused.
Then, two officers get out of the car. They start heading towards us, and my brows crease together.
"Will and Valerie Dawson?"
Oh fuck.
The cops say the names of our aliases from the casino, and I give them both a look of wariness. I know Elaina must be dying of fear right now.
"What is this?" I respond.
The cops look at each other, and then pull out handcuffs.
My eyes go wide and the realization sets in—this isn't fucking good at all.
Before I know it, the bigger cop is heading toward me with cuffs while the other is going for Elaina.
Obviously, I start to fight it. I knew for a fact that I wasn't going to be put into cuffs without making this bastard work for it.
I struggle as he grabs me, not complying which pisses him off. His partner leaves Elaina and comes to assist him with me. Elaina doesn't run or fight even though she's unattended, she knows she'll be in more trouble. She just watches with a worried expression.
With the strength of the two cops, I grunt as I'm shoved against their car. My arms get pulled behind me and they're quick to get the restraints on my wrists.
With me restrained now, the other cop goes to Elaina and begins to cuff her. She looks at me, her eyes teary. She's scared, she doesn't know what's going on.
"At least tell us why you're doing this." I say with frustration. They can't just show up and arrest us, they need to tell us why.
"Mr and Mrs. Dawson, you are both under arrest for the murder of Anchelo Rossi."
They speak the name of Alec's alias.
I look at Elaina, both of our eyes wide before the cop opens the car door and begins to push me in.
We're fucked.
//
UH OH...