"Sweetheart, what have you done to us?"
♫ SWHYDTU By Keaton Henson.
✰ ✰ ✰
One week ago I was getting wasted at clubs in New York City with my best girlfriends, I was kissing and fucking the guy I adored in high rise, luxury hotels, and I was—having the best trip I'd ever experienced in my life.
Today I was going to a funeral.
The first few days back from our vacation hit me like a sack of bricks.
I had little to no vibrance in my life because--while Naomi lived with me and Kristen would text every so often, my time was devoted to spending quality moments with my little brother, sorting out my life and planning the burial for my mom.
The first day back, I had to attend and testify at a court hearing for my uncle Matthew so he could take custody of Ollie; declaring myself unfit to be his legal guardian because I had no prospects and I was too young.
Which was a punch in the gut like no other.
On the second, third, and forth day back, I had to deal with my moms' death and every aspect of it.
I had to pick out an engraving for her headstone, pick out a casket at the parlor, and pick out where she'd be buried. I had to pay the fines for all of it which set me back around ten grand.
I had to call family members and see who wanted to come down for the wake and listen to each of their stories about my mother being the most generous yet most complicated woman they'd ever known.
And on the fifth and sixth day, I had to take myself, and my little brother to the store to--one last time--pick out a sensible black sweater and slacks for him to wear to the funeral. There was nothing more depressing than watching an eight year old try to find something to wear that their mom would approve of because he was insistent she'd see from beyond the grave.
It was just a long, long week, and worst of all, I had to do it all alone.
I was the only one who could. I was the eldest now. I was the leader of my family's household. I felt the weight of it on my shoulders, even in my mothers' passing. It had to be me.
I felt though that deep down I always sort of knew that.
"Cherry, are you here?" Niko called out.
"Upstairs." I called out. Standing in my bedroom in front of my body length mirror, I smoothed down the creases in my poorly pressed outfit; a tight, sleek, black mockneck dress with an open back. Simple, but elegant and the opposite of what my mother would've wanted to see me in. That was where me and my brother differed however.
"I know we're supposed to be leaving now," I muttered when I saw him appear in the doorway out of the corner of my eye, "I just need a moment, if that's okay."
He stepped farther into the room and his face appeared behind mine in the mirror closely, "I didn't think funeral attire could be so hot."
I grinned, reaching back to hold his hand, "Yeah, well, I wanted to piss her off. What better way to do that than to dress like a slut at her funeral?"
"You're bordering on whorish mistress more than slut. But take off the bra, wear thicker eyeliner and you're there." He teased, resting his chin on my shoulder, "Harlow'd be real proud then."
"Hell yeah he would." I mumbled, my smile losing its' spark.
"Fuck, did I ruin that? I'm sorry-"
"Don't be." I shook my head insistently and turned around to face him, "It's not a big deal."
"Still no word from him, huh?"
"Uh, no. I left Zayn a voicemail and invited them both to the funeral a few days ago, but he hasn't contacted me at all. Neither of them. They're probably just busy though." I brushed past him to grab my clutch and asked without thinking, "Have you... heard from him?"
"I have. But the conversations are short and..." He sighed, giving me the answer I wanted to hear, "He misses you. I know being there with Cosette is torture for him."
"Did he say that or are you just telling me that to make me feel better?" I tilted my head at him, hoping for the first option deep down.
"Did I mention just how very, very beautiful you look this morning?" He tilted his head right back at me, making me roll my eyes.
"Smooth. Thank you." All I could do was smile and give his arm a quick squeeze. I checked myself in the mirror one last time before I took a deep breath, "Okay, I'm ready now. Let's get this over with."
Niko lead us out of my room and we filed out of the house to his car. I decided to go with him rather than driving alone.
But only because I knew if I got in front of the wheel, I wouldn't go anywhere.
The skies were grey and cloudy, the air misty since it was still morning. Which I suppose was fitting for such a gloomy day.
By the time we got to the church just down the street from the cemetery, where the burial itself would be held--it was raining lightly. Niko offered me his umbrella as we stepped out and walked up the stone steps, shivering.
I could feel this invisible cloud over my head even after we got inside, because the atmosphere was so dry and so void of all excitement.
There were around sixty people who came, taking their seats in the pews and whispering or crying amoungst each other solemnly. The room was dim, stain-glass windows on all sides that let in little to no light at all.
I'd arraged for red roses and lillies to be draped around the room, and my mom's casket was a dark mahogany wood, shining in front of everyone on the altar.
Whispers from people commensed once I was present in the church and I hated it. I hated the pity. The attention. It made me feel so boxed in. So guilty, for--not really wanting to be there at all.
"Can you do this?" Niko placed his hand on the small of my back and walked with me through the aisle to the front of the church. I elected not to have a pastor lead us in song or begin the euglogy and do it myself so that it was quicker. But, looking at how many people were there made me want to re-think.
"I'm not entirely sure but..." I spotted Naomi, Kris, Mike, Ollie and Matthew all sitting in the front row, quietly chatting and giving me an eye of support. I waved at them gently and Matt gave me a reassuring nod that said he was gonna be whatever I needed that day.
"Yes." I decided, "I can."
Holding my head high, I walked down the aisle in front of him to get to the altar.
Everyone around me shuffled in their seats and began to grow quiet; my footsteps echoing through the space.
I stepped up in the front of the room where a podium was placed to the side of my mothers' casket and set my clutch on top of it. The pitter patter of rain sounded behind me, and the soft spotlight on me made it harder to see all of the waiting faces. Which, strangley enough, made it easier to talk.
I grabbed the microphone and lowered it to my mouth as I cleared my throat.
Here goes nothing.
"Um, hi. Hello everyone. It's lovely to see you. Before we begin, I'd like to thank you all for coming out today to mourn the death of my mother. Carolina Jane Anderson. Mother to two, wife to one, and friend to many." I tucked a stray hand behind my ear and looked down at my friends and family, "Truth be told, I didn't think I'd be here, let alone be here in this position so soon in my life. It's been not yet half a decade since I buried my father, since I spoke in this same church."
My mouth began to feel tacky like drying glue, "And while there's not many bright or bubbly stories to share about my mother, because we all remember exactly the kind of tough woman she was," I lightheartedly said, earning a few chuckles from the crowd, "There is something she said to me the day of my fathers' burial that always stuck with me. And it's a sentiment I want all of you to keep when you're reminded of her loss today or in the days to come."
I inhaled and surprised myself when my voice cracked so unexpectedly, "She was crying--we all were. I remember we were sat in the pews just me, her and Ol, after everyone was gone. And I looked up at her, and I told her I wished he was still here. I was sadder than I'd ever been. N' she took my hand and she said: 'Wishing is for fools. Cry, Alice. Weep if you must. Because death is the one thing in this world we can't control, and it's the most unfair punishment anyone in love can ever face'."
An exhale forced its' way from my body as I swiped a single tear off of my cheek, "She was always my mother, but she was only my mom on that day. She was kind. She was patient. She was sad. She was strong. She was beautiful..."
And cruel. And harsh. And demeaning. And angry. And a twisted mess of a mother.
But, the guilt knawing through my stomach wouldn't let me say that.
"She was someone I admired and... I will miss her very much." I closed, giving everyone a silent nod as I moved the microphone from my mouth.
It was all I could stomach.
I sniffled and stepped back from the podium while Ollie, out of the corner of my eye, made his way up to the stage. He had on his black sweater and his black pants, his curly hair combed back just the way she always did it.
It was his turn to speak, but only if he wanted.
There was a small stool behind the podium and he stepped up on it, pulling out a crumpled up piece of paper from his pocket.
He was always so prepared, it made me smile.
I helped raise the microphone high enough for his mouth to reach it and I remained stood by his side as he spoke quietly into it, "I will miss my mom a lot, and she will miss me, I know that too."
I held back a chuckle and covered my mouth.
"She liked to make me sandwiches and pick out my clothes. She liked to comb my hair and ask me math questions at breakfast. And, she liked to give me kisses in the morning before I went to school." His eyes skidded across his writing in marker, "I think those are what I'll miss the most, mama. And if you're listening, I got my art put up on the wall at school and everyone loved it just like you said they would." He frowned, "That's all."
I could tell he was having the same internal conflict as me. He only picked out the good things to say.
He didn't shed a single tear, but when his hand began to shake a little, I took it and helped him off of the stool.
"You did perfect." I held him for a moment, and he nodded into me, whispering, "You too."
We held eachother's hand as we stepped away from the altar and I heard someone move to take their turn to speak as we sat down.
"Good job, rockstar." Niko gave Ollie a fist bump and a small smile, which made him ditch me to sit with him. He crawled onto Niko's lap and rested his head on his shoulder, while I found my seat next to Naomi.
"Nice speech, babe." She took my hand and gave it a squeeze.
"Thanks." I kept my down for a moment, taking a deep breath, but I looked up when I heard the next person to say their peace, clear their throat.
"Ahem."
I gazed through the semi-blinding rays of light in the church and did a double take as the not-so-stranger removed his hat and hood in one swipe.
"Good morning."
Deep, soft, and raspy. I knew that face and that voice.
"Uh...." Naomi muttered, slapping my leg, "Is that Harlow or am I higher than I remember?"
I was too shocked to say anything.
"I'd like to say a few words." Harlow adjusted the mic with reddened, bruised knuckles, and sniffled up snot from the cold rain outside that still coated his shoulders, "Most of you probably don't know me, but you will in just a second, I'm sure. Uh... I'm here to say that..."
Oh my god.
He blew out a breath and placed his hands on the edges of the podium like a pastor.
"Carol was a fucking bitch."
A string of gasps fell from the crowds' mouth as well as mine.
Niko covered Ollie's ears fast.
"A twat. A skank. A massive hag. Like--massively haggish," He gestured with his hands, "She was selfish. She was so bloody unpleasant. She was a bigot. She was obnxious as fuck, really, I don't know why you--yes you, ma'am are crying because she really was like, extra horrible," He gestured to my aunt in the parallel front row.
"Are we stopping this?" Naomi whispered in my ear.
"No." I quipped.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is that the world is a better place without her. I can physically feel the sun shining brighter on us today," He rambled on proudly, almost seeming drunk or hungover, "She was awful. She was awful to me, she was awful to her kids, she was probably awful to her husband god rest his soul." He patted his chest twice.
"Yet... despite the fact that this woman was so ugly and so trashy, and so digusting, she birthed and brought up the smartest children. She has a brilliant son, Ollie, who has the best music taste and will probably outlive all of you old fuckers once he discovers time travel cause he's a genius."
I fought back a laugh.
"And her daughter? Well..." He breathed in, his eyes trailing toward me until their found their target locked with mine, "I'm biased, but-- she's the complete opposite of her mother in every conceivable way and pretty fucking kickass if you ask me."
My face grew with heat and I gave him a small smile that he returned with a stare of his own that only made matters worse. His mouth fell open and he tore his eyes away from me, back to the crowd, "So, yeah, let's do less crying and more celebrating. Thank you for your time. That's uh... that's all I've got."
The crowds' whispers grew as he steppedaway from the front and headed straight for the big double doors.
My uncle Matthew immediately made his way up to the stage to fix the mess with lighthearted chatter, while I got up and pretended to be emotional as I made my way out.
I heard several, "poor Alice," comments and some "shame on that man" complaints. But, that only made me wanna laugh even harder.
"Ahem, I'd like to say a few words..."
My uncles voice sounded through all the gossip just as I stepped outside.
Harlow was waiting at the bottom of the steps, lighting a cigarette in the sprinkling rain with his hand cupped to cover the flame. The heavy church doors closed behind me and he peered up when they did with a half smile that could melt away all the days of stress in an instant, "How'd you like my speech?"
"My family thinks you're a behemoth."
"And what do you think?" He countered with a smirk.
"It'd be innapropriate of me to say such unholy things in an honest place of worship." I began my venture down the steps as my smile widened, "During the middle of a funeral no less. You're bad, you know that?"
"The worst, I've been told."
The first urge to laugh I'd felt in days tickled my throat, and I let it free when I reached the bottom steps, throwing my arms around his neck in the biggest hug. Feelings about his departure aside, I was glad he said what he did, and glad he was there with me then. It was the biggest breath of fresh air to even see his face.
My heart was soaring.
"I missed you." I ran my fingers through his damp hair and he breathed out a weighted breath, his eyelashes fluttering against my neck, "I didn't think you'd come."
"Me either." It took a moment for him to reply, his fingers flexing on my waist as he pulled back from the hug sooner than I was hoping for. He stared at my face for a moment with worry, flicking his eyes back and forth between mine, "Cherry, I..."
"Yes?" I murmured, taking his hand gently.
Harlow swallowed and looked down at our hands before letting them fall apart. He seemed a little panicked.
"Fuck, I can't do this. I can't kiss you and lie to you." He whispered, almost to himself.
"Lie to me? Baby, what's wrong?" I was so close to reaching up and holding his sweet, sad face when he spoke.
"Cherry, I'm moving back to New York."
My stomach flipped upside down, causing a ripple of goosebumps to erupt over every inch of my body.
"You're... you're what?"
Pinch me. Please.
He looked back up at me and threw his cigarette on the ground as if he couldn't stomach the taste, "I'm working on Bella's case there with Zayn and um... we're making really good progress, so I decided it would be best if I just moved back," his throat bobbed when he swallowed, "to be with her and Cosette... as a f-family."
If I could hear the sound of my heart right now, it would be the striking sound of splitting wood rather than just a fierce pounding alarm in my ears. My mouth fell open and I faltered in confidence when I spoke that time, "To be with her? You're going to be a family with her? But, you hate her. You told me you hated her-"
"I'm... working on it. We're reconnecting and Bella's gonna need the both of us." If I'd seen him having this conversation with someone else, I'd assume they had a gun tucked under their coat and were forcing him to. He was so stiff, so unlike himself.
"Right, okay. So, you're moving back to be with her and you're," I gestured between us, my frustration and disbelief bubbling over into something more fierce, "Ending this with me. T-That's what you decided while you were gone for a week? While I was pining for you and waiting for you to pick up your fucking phone and call me, you were playing house with your skank of an ex-wife--"
"Cosette is the mother of my child and I don't like it, but I'm trying!" He cut me off, yelling roughly, "It is all for Bells, you know that! I'm not ending anything with anybody, i-it's not like I'm abandoning everyone forever--"
"You are! That's exactly what you're doing! You just got here. You moved here to find Bella's captors. You have the band, and Niko, and Naomi, and Mike, and--" I choked on my words, the rippling in my throat expanding, "You have a life here. Everyone is here, you can't just leave?"
"I have to." He wasn't hesitant.
I stepped back and exhaled a breath, the rain falling heavier on my hair, making it stick to my cheeks, "So, this is what I get? I get a pop up from you every few months when you decide I matter to you. I've cared for you more in the span of a month than she did in fucking four years and I get a moment, but she gets forever, right?--"
"You aren't listening! I'm not doing this for her! Things between Cosette and I are... they're a complicated mess but Bella's gonna need stability! I don't want a life of split homes for my kid, can't you understand that?" He barked, pleading for forgiveness in his eyes.
"You--" I paused as my stomach sank. There was heavy guilt behind his eyes, I could sense it, I could feel it, I could hear it in his tone, "When I left you, you hated her. You puked after one conversation with her and now things between you a-are suddenly so complicated?" My tone grew softer.
"Yes!" He exclaimed.
"You fucked her, didn't you?" I whispered, blinking the droplets of rain off of my lids.
That was when he got quiet.
"Oh my fucking god."
"Cherry."
I'd be tempted to laugh if I wasn't so struck by hurt and guilt, and immense stupidity, "I wasn't ever anything to you, was I? I'm just nothing. I can't believe I really fell for this! For you! Your stupid... tricks and lies!"
He grew confused, "What? Fell-"
"I'm so... so stupid!" I sucked in a sharp breath and smoothed the slick hair back from my face before tossing my arms up, "I actually thought maybe, just maybe you had the slightest big more care for me than you led on but you don't. You are exactly the same person you've always been and I don't know why I expected anything different."
"Cherry-"
"I let you fuck me! I really let you just--use me!" I let out a half-laugh, but it disappeared into a full fledged cry, "You were right this whole time. No one wants a," I began to quote him, "'girl like me-"
"Stop-"
"With a body like mine, oh no, this is where it gets good," I cried, "for anything but sex. That's what you said to me, and I still fell for you!" I shook my head, "You must feel, really fucking proud right now, huh? You tricked the sad, loser girl across the street into feeling sorry for you and holding you and kissing you!-"
"I didn't know you felt this way--how on earth was I supposed to know you had feelings for me unless you told me!" He yelled.
"Because I show you! Everytime we talk, everytime we kiss, everytime I look at you!" I sobbed, my nose crinkling, "I told myself I was crazy when everyone warned me. I let you put me into your fucked up box and even then, you didn't see me. You never saw me. I was just a toy for you and that--despite everything--that is the worst thing you could've ever done to me."
Harlow softly panted in panic and flicked his eyes all over my face. His hair was soaked now, stuck to his cheeks, "I... I can't be that for you. Your boyfriend. Your person. And I'm truly sorry if I gave the impression that I could. Believe me, the last thing I wanted to do was hurt you. I care for you."
I should've taken a step back when he came closer but my feet were glued to the pavement.
"I care for you so much and I need you, Cher..." He whispered, reaching up to my cup my face and wipe my tears away. I hated how good it felt, "I've never felt this way with anyone. You make me feel safe and--comfortable in my own body. You're a part of my life now, please don't give this up. You can visit, we can see each other. W-We can be friends. I have to pull the plug on us, but I can't lose you."
"That's the problem..." I grabbed his hand and took it off me, "I'm not a person you want. I'm a person you need to be your cushion when you're feeling like shit! I'm a person you feel safe with but only wanna use! And I won't be that girl for you, I can't!"
"Please don't-"
"Go." My voice cracked again as I smudged the make-up off of my cheeks. I gestured to the street, "New York is a far drive, really, you should just go. Go be with your wife, find your baby, really. I hope that you do. I hope that you're happy."
"Don't. Cherry, don't."
I turned around and began to walk back up the steps.
"C-Come with me."
I stopped, slowly turning around, "What?"
He followed me up the steps and confronted me yet again, looking sick, "Come with me. Move with me. I'll... I'll get an apartment for just me and you. We can fuck and drink and be happy the way we have been for the past month. We can forget this all ever happened and--"
"And become like Niko?" I shoved his chest, "And become the best friend you'll never like, never love, who you string along at your own convenience!? No! I'm not gonna be your pretty little barbie doll who does whatever you say!-"
"You'd rather us never speak again?!" He said angrily, his nostrils flaring, "You'd rather lose what we have, forever--"
"I want you!" I matched his anger level, "I don't wanna be your fucking friend, Harlow! I want to be with you! I wanna kiss you and go on dates! I wanna call you my boyfriend and be cheesy on Valentine's Day! I want to be the only woman in your life and not as a last fucking resort! So, take your empty promises of happiness and a life together, and go find someone who gives a fuck because me and you, are done."
Silence fell over the church steps and I hoped I didn't look as sick as I felt.
"So, this is how it ends, hm? This is what you want?" His nose twitched uncontrollable with distain and disgust, "I hope you don't regret it because once I leave, I am never coming back, I swear it." He was shaking his head ever so slightly.
"That's a promise I'm sure you'll have no trouble keeping."
It left my mouth before I could stop it and Harlow just scoffed, taking several steps down from the church with a scowl.
"Go fuck yourself, alice."
"Fuck you too!" I yelled out into the open air, my lip wobbling the second he was in his car. He tossed a bouquet of black roses of his car window and onto the sidewalk just as I dropped my head into my hands. My body let go of its' defense, curling up on the church steps with a heavy sob.
Heartbreak really fucking hurt, but heartbreak at his hands was worse.
I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't speak, couldn't move.
I felt the heaviest weight I'd ever felt on my chest, crushing my hopes for love and life with Harlow in an instant.
And even though what he did was so cruel, even though he betrayed me with the utmost disregard for my feelings?
All I really wanted was for him to come back--and change his mind.
***