{Kate's Point of View}
I closed my eyes for a moment and took everything in. There was a steady beeping sound marking and recording a heart rate. I could hear the quiet hum of fluorescent lights coming in from the hallway. The inescapable smell of sterile equipment, hand sanitizer, and latex filled my nose. In a panic, I opened my eyes. I felt just as I had when I woke up in the hospital after my concussion, but instead of finding myself in the hospital bed, I found my grandfather sleeping soundly in a hospital bed of his own.
My eyes itched with exhaustion and were swollen from an evening of crying. The shock of my grandfather suffering a stroke had not worn down. He was my best friend and biggest supporter. I had spent my childhood helping my grandfather in his garden and acting as his accomplice while stealing cookies from under my grandmother's nose. He was the best listener sitting quietly while I carried on about the stresses of school and friends when I was younger. Now he lay weak in a hospital bed dipping in and out of consciousness. His mouth drooped slightly and his left side was incredibly weak from the stroke. His grey hair was out of sorts and his skin looked thin and pale.
Doctors were working to isolate the cause of the stroke. The current theories were an existing blood clot getting stuck and forcing blood to flow around it, or a new blood clot may have formed. Several tests had been conducted all day including blood tests, x-rays, and MRIs.
"Papa," I sighed. I reached out and took his warm hand in mine. His fingers were wrinkled and calloused from decades of hard work. "I don't know if you can hear me or not. I wish you were awake so I could tell you how much I love you."
"Miss?" A nurse appeared in the doorway. "Visiting hours are over in ten minutes."
"Okay," I nodded absently. The nurse smiled sadly and stepped out of the room.
"I don't want to leave you here alone, Papa. I had to fly in from Los Angeles to see you. I was there at a wedding for someone I used to work with. You would have loved the weather there. It was so warm and sunny. Here, it's getting cold already.
"I saw him there. I saw Harry. Remember how I told you we broke up? Well seeing him was the hardest thing I've had to do since we ended things. Papa, I'm heartbroken. I love Harry so much. I'm still completely, hopelessly in love with him. He means the world to me. It doesn't seem possible to love someone as much as I love him. But I guess I have to learn to ignore those feelings. Harry broke up with me. He wanted things to be over. But you can't just turn off feelings for someone.
"Harry hasn't told anyone about our breakup. He hasn't told the media or talked about it at all. It's been two months. And I'm pretty sure he's been sitting on the story so he can release it when it suits his public image. Nothing hurts as bad as the thought of Harry using me like that. It makes me question everything.
"How did you and Gram stay together this long? Did you feel love this strongly when you were first together? Or am I delusional? I wish you would wake up and tell me what to do. Convince me to forgive him or convince me to let him go. You'd say I shouldn't be with someone that broke me so easily, but I know you're hopelessly romantic. Tell me what to do. Tell me the right thing to do." I leaned forward and rested my forehead against his forearm.
I stayed bowed at the hand of my grandfather for several long minutes. I tried to mentally sort our what I should do. I wished for my grandfather to wake up. I wished to know what I should do with Harry. I wished for my feelings to go away. I wished for things to simplify.
I heard the steady beat of footsteps. They were determined and forceful. At first, the sound was quiet and far off, but then slowly intensified as the person came down the corridor. There was something about the footsteps... "If I didn't know better, I would guess those are Saint Laurent boots, Papa," I mumbled with my lips against the back of his hand.
The footsteps stopped. I could smell the masculine combination of cologne and mint—the smell of him. My hair stood on end as I sensed his presence. My breath escaped me. My heart pounded in my chest. Slowly, I turned in my chair to find Harry Styles standing in the doorway.
"Hi," he mumbled through a crooked smile.
"Hi," I breathed.
"You alright?"
"What? Yes. Yes, fine."
"May I come in?"
"Sure," I nodded.
Harry slipped off his jacket and set in on the back of a chair. His shoulders and chest looked broader. His forearms and biceps were thick with muscle. His skin was smooth and tan from the summer sun. His body looked good, but his face looked sad.
"Papa," I whispered, clutching the hand of my sleeping grandfather. "This is my...this is Harry."
"We've met," Harry whispered. He crouched down beside me and looked at my grandfather. "We visited last autumn."
"Right," I bit my lip. I couldn't focus with Harry so close to me. I could smell his shampoo and feel the warmth radiating from his body.
"Miss? Visiting hours are now over." The nurse was back with hands on hip. Her toe tapped the floor in annoyance. "You can come back tomorrow morning at nine."
"Just a few more minutes?"
"Kate," Harry cooed softly. His hand touched my shoulder as he rose up. "She's only doing her job. You want your granddad to get well. Let him rest. You can come back in the morning. They'll take good care of him tonight."
"But—"
"Come on, love."
Love. My body tensed. It was a term he used for many people. He said it to fans and to strangers and to acquaintances and to friends. But whenever he said it to me, it had always felt a little more meaningful. Like it was short for, my love. The word lingered in the sterile air of the hospital room like an unwanted insect flying about.
"Fine." I stood from the chair and leaned over to kiss my grandfather's forehead. "Goodbye, Papa. I'll be back tomorrow."
I picked up my handbag and a book I had brought and headed for the door. To my own surprise, I found myself waiting by the door for Harry to catch up. He collected his jacket and joined me in the corridor. We began a slow walk toward the end of the corridor to the stairwell. Harry left his hand dangling by his side as if he were waiting to catch mine. It brushed against the back of mine, but when I pulled my hand away, he quickly put his hand in his pocket. Our slow pace and brushing hands reminded me of walking through the park for the first time together in January—a lifetime ago.
"Why are you here?" I choked out.
"I heard about your granddad."
"You're here to see him?" I tested, knowing the answer already.
"Well, no. I'm here to see you. I know you must be going through a hard time."
"No thanks to you," I blurted.
Harry didn't respond right away. He tilted his head up and down in an almost-nod, as if he were agreeing with me. "Do you think we could talk?"
"What is there to say?"
"Kate, I have some things I want to say. If you don't want to talk, I won't force you."
We got to the stairs and started slowly descending them. Harry consciously moved slower, though his long legs enabled him to take the stairs two at a time. I gripped the handrail tightly and tried to decide what the right thing to do was. "Fine. We can talk."
We got to the main doors of the hospital and Harry pulled out his phone. He started sending a text message. "Just letting Nick know that we're ready."
"Nick is here?"
"Driving," Harry explained.
"I don't want to talk in your car."
"Oh?"
"I don't want to talk where Nick will hear us."
"Kate, you know Nick doesn't listen. It's his job to drive me around and keep his mouth shut."
"I know, but please don't make me talk in front of him."
"Alright, Kate. We don't have to. Did you drive?"
"Yes," I held up a set of keys to one of my parents' cars.
Harry reached forward and took the keys from my hand. "I'll drive us. Let me go bring the car round."
"I can walk."
"It's pouring rain outside."
"It is?" I hadn't even looked outside for hours.
"Terribly," he nodded.
"It's fine. I'll walk."
"You're so stubborn," he mumbled. His tone wasn't accusatory. In fact, it sounded like he was teasing me lightheartedly. "Please take my jacket then."
I let Harry help me into his jacket. It was still warm and smelled of him. It was the scent I had missed when he was away, the scent that had remained in my bed sheets, the scent that had been there when I cried into his chest. So many emotions flooded my heart and mind as the cologne and body wash smell rubbed off on me.
"Ready, baby?"
"No. You don't get to do that. You don't get to come back here, after everything that's happened, and call me baby." I stopped walking. My tone was threatening.
"You're right. I overstepped my boundaries."
"Just...no 'baby.'"
"Got it."
Harry and I hurried through the rows of cars toward the white car I had driven to the hospital. We squinted through the rain and dodged puddles. I pulled Harry's jacket up around me tighter to fight off the rain. When we got to the car, Harry opened my door for me. I slipped inside and waited for him to get in. Within seconds, the car was on, the heat was blasting, and the road was disappearing under the tires of the car.
____________
As we passed under streetlights, I glanced over at Harry. His Henley shirt was dotted with raindrops. His hair was heavy with rain and hanging over one eye. His lips were pressed together. One hand commanded the steering wheel while his free hand tapped his knee nervously or toyed with the pendent around his neck. Minutes crept by as Harry wound around the city with seemingly no directions or destination in mind. I stayed quiet, unwilling to start the conversation.
This is the guy who built you up for a year. He helped you recover from your concussion. He supported you and worried over you. He took you all over the world and bonded with your family. He has the biggest heart. He is talented and loving and hilarious and caring. But this is also the guy who broke your heart. He obliterated your life. He may have loved you, but he tossed that away, I thought to myself.
Harry let out a long, heavy I-refuse-to-speak-first sigh. The clicking of the car's turn signal echoed annoyingly. Harry turned to the left and started down a long road away from the center of the city and toward the darkened outskirts. "How have you been?"
"Miserable," I whispered. The word fell from my lips before I could think twice about it. Harry shifted in his seat and looked at me with traces of shock and horror on his features. "It's not been easy."
"You have to believe that it felt like the right thing to do," he said helplessly, referring to the breakup.
"Right for who?"
I heard him swallow hard. "For me. It felt right for me."
"That's what I thought."
"Kate," he whispered.
"Thanks for the new job, by the way."
"It was for your benefit."
"Oh, so you did something for me?"
He ignored my sarcasm. "It was important that you distanced yourself from me."
"Why do you feel like you need to make so many decisions about my life?"
"Because I still l—because I don't want to see anything bad happen to you. If you were to stay near me, it could have been..."
His words melted into background noise. He had almost said that he still loves me. I blinked back tears as an unspeakable pain consumed my body. For once, this pain was not of the head, but of the heart. Words formed, jammed together, and disappeared in my mouth. When Harry's voice silenced, I reached out and rolled the window down. The air was wet from the rain. The cold wind was deafening as Harry continued to speed down the darkened street. I let the wind whip my hair around my face and pepper goosebumps on my arms. The night entered the car and swirled around me and brought with it air that never belonged to Harry. I gulped several breaths of fresh, cleansing air before rolling the window back up.
"I'm here because I had to see you," Harry said finally. "I'm here because I couldn't go another second without talking to you. I'm tired of being two ships passing in the night. We're in the same city, but don't meet up. We're in the same room, but don't speak. It's exhausting not knowing where we stand."
"That's how I felt before we even broke up," I snapped. "Remember when you were in South Africa and didn't return my phone calls? But I'll make it easy for you, Harry. I'll tell you where we stand: apart. We broke up. That's where we stand."
"Kate," he sighed. He pushed his hair out of his face. "I was going through something."
"What?"
"It's complicated."
"No more excuses!" I cried. "No more writing off your feelings."
"I missed the independence I had before I was in a relationship. I missed not having to be responsible to someone."
"Oh?"
His words stung. I looked over at him. His brow was furrowed and his teeth bit his bottom lip. He knew the effect of his words. "I let my weaknesses expand and eat away at me. I forgot to stand up for myself and for us. I let the media influence my thinking. I got caught up in tour life and the relaxed standards that come with that. I lost control of myself and you were the price I paid."
"Why couldn't you have said that to me before? Did you think I wouldn't understand?" I whispered.
"How could you understand when I didn't even understand?"
"Why haven't you taken our breakup public?"
"What?"
"Tell me why people still think we're together."
"Kate..."
"Harry, please just tell me. Tell me why you haven't come clean. Tell me why I'm still getting messages on social media about how I am perfect for you and how you and I are an iconic couple. Tell me why I'm still being named a best girlfriend of the year in online polls. Tell me why fans are acting like we're still together. Tell me why."
"I don't need people knowing our business," he growled.
"Isn't it inevitable? One day it will be quite clear we aren't together."
"What do you mean?"
"Come on, Harry."
"No, tell me what you mean."
One day you're going to find someone else to be with. Maybe I will, too. One day, cameras will catch you holding hands with another girl. One day, another guy is going to whisper things in my ear that made me smile or swoon or blush like you had before. We can't be together forever, I thought. "We can't keep on like this, Harry."
"Then do you want me to go public?"
"What?"
"Do you want me to get my phone out right now and send a tweet saying we're broken up? Do you want me to schedule a press conference? Do you want me to say it on stage in Seattle next week? Do you want me to mention it during an interview? Do you want me to scream it from the rooftops?"
"Harry," I whimpered.
"Tell me what you want!" he shouted. "Tell me what to do. I will do what you want!"
"Don't yell," I cringed.
"Do you want me to go public?"
"I—"
"What do you want?" His hand slammed against the steering wheel. I felt all the intensity of his stare driving into me.
"I...I want to go back! Take me back to the hospital so you can get in your car. Take me back so you can leave." I gasped for air as sobs threatened to pour out of me.
____________
{Harry's Point of View}
I stopped her car a short distance from the SUV where Nick was waiting for me. The sky was still thick with clouds, but no rain fell. The asphalt was wet and dotted with puddles. Water droplets shifted across the windows of the car as I parked under a streetlight near the hospital.
"You should go home and get some sleep," I said as I pulled the keys from the ignition.
"You should go home, too," she retorted coldly. Kate opened the car door and stepped into the cold night. She started walking around the car to the driver's side so I could give her the keys and let her leave. I took the hint and got out.
I was in knots. My heart was constricted by two strongly opposed feelings; I wanted to tell her how much I loved her and needed her still, but I also wanted to give her the space she clearly desired. The flirtatiousness that we usually shared had evaporated. In its place was punishing tension that pushed and pulled us into the worst versions of ourselves.
"The keys, please." Kate held her hand out. I dropped the keys into her hand and she gave a curt nod, "Thanks."
"I'm sorry I shouted at you," I said. The rain-soaked earth quieted around us. I felt like I was on a stage and all attention was on me. "I never want to yell at you. I get really emotional sometimes and I lose control."
"You've said that twice," she noted.
"Said what?"
"That you lost control."
"Maybe I have."
"You should find out how to regain it," she said dispassionately. "We lose control when we're alone."
"I don't want to fight."
"Then let's not fight." She made to step around me.
"I truly am sorry. I'm sorry for the way I handled things. I'm sorry for alienating you. I'm sorry for making you feel like you are less than what you are. I'm sorry for letting you think you had done anything wrong. I'm sorry for yelling. I'm sorry for being unable to express myself properly. I'm sorry for everything."
"I appreciate that." Her eyes didn't meet mine. She stayed staring at the ground as if she were afraid to face me. "I'm very tired, Harry. I'd like to go now."
"Don't be angry," I begged.
Kate stood on her toes and pressed a soft peck to my cheek. It happened so quickly I thought I had been mistaken. Her touch had left my skin singing. My heart sped up. My body came alive. When I looked into her unforgiving eyes, her kiss suddenly felt more like a curse.
"I'm leaving."
"Wait," I reached out to her. She shook her head sadly. "Please, let's talk this through."
"I don't think so." She put her hand on the car door.
"It can't end like this. We can't end like this."
"This is one thing you don't get to choose for me, Harry."
Her words were venom in my bloodstream. Instantly, I felt the voltage that had always run between us suddenly weaken into nothingness. The only connection I could feel were the unspoken apologies we both had. Emptiness stretched between us as I reached forward and opened the car door for her. She slipped into the driver's seat just as the rain returned for its vengeance.
"Be safe driving," I muttered. I closed the door.
I listened to the strike, rattle, and hum of the engine starting. She didn't shift her car into gear. She remained in park and I could feel her eyes on me as I walked toward Nick in the SUV.
"Don't let me go," I whispered. "Don't let me go. Don't let me go. Don't let me go. Stop me now and I'm yours. Just don't let me go. Don't let me go." I quietly chanted the words over and over until I reached the SUV. She didn't roll her window down and call out for me. She didn't leap from the car and run after me. She didn't even have the decency to drive away and leave me alone pathetically. No, she watched the sickeningly depressing version of me her torture had created. Tarnished. Bleeding. Broken. Charred. Flattened. Ruined. Destroyed. I destroyed her heart. The best thing in my life—the best thing in the world. The best thing and I destroyed it. And I was never going to get it back.
"How'd it go?" Nick asked as I slipped into the backseat.
I became aware of how wet my clothing was from standing in the rain. My jeans were uncomfortable and I was cold without the jacket I had given to Kate. I looked up to see the taillights of her car disappearing into the darkness.
"Well," I sighed to Nick, "she let me go."