I race home, my thoughts running wild. Something fell out of the journal? What?
New York traffic doesn't cease as I rush home, honking about fifty times. It's past ten by now, and all slight comfort I felt earlier from going to the art gallery has vanished. It's hard to believe Elizabeth and I saw Zayn at the art gallery only a few hours ago-time seemed to crawl by slowly as I read the journal.
I take the steps two at a time up the apartment building. Bursting into the living room where my mother and Elizabeth are. They look at me like I'm a madwomen, which, I probably am, but I'm too pumped with adrenaline to care.
"Something, something out of the journal-" I begin to speak, trying to catch my breath through the combination of exertion and the tiny silver hope that this thing Elizabeth found is the sign I was previously wishing for.
Elizabeth nods, standing and handing me a stack of paper maybe half an inch thick. It looks wrinkled and damaged, and it's folded multiple times, but I take it from her anyway. I hear my heart pounding loudly in my ears as I try to steady my breathing.
I hold the journal in one hand and the papers in the other, whirling around and going into my room, shutting the door behind me.
I sit on my bed, pushing hair out of my face and looking at the folded paper.
"Please let this be the sign," I breathe as I slowly unfold the wrinkled paper.
My eyes trail over the inked words and my heart drops to my feet.
I can see that the words were once written clearly, but they're smudged beyond belief. I can barely make out my name at the top, Harry's neat handwriting blurred. It looks like it was once wet, and now it's dried, but it's completely illegible.
"No, no, no," I mutter, flipping over the page and scanning the back to find it only gets worse, the same with the page after it and the page after that. "No!"
I stumble off my bed, walking back into the living room. The two look over at me, confusion on their faces, My skin is hot with anxiety and my chest is tight, a lump forming in my throat.
"It's damaged," I rush out to my mother and Elizabeth. "What-what happened-"
My mother walks over to me, taking the paper from me. "Must have been water damage," she says, furrowing her brow and shaking her head.
"But Elizabeth said it fell out the journal, and the journal is fine-"
"It didn't fall out of the journal, it came from the package. I thought it fell from the journal, but it must have been hidden at the bottom," Elizabeth says.
"No!" I shout "It can't be!"
"Rose," my mother says, shocked at the intensity at my voice, taking the journal from my other hand. " The journal looks a bit water damaged, too. Look at the cover."
I examine the cover again and see it does look dampened. I had been too caught up in reading it that I hadn't noticed the crumpling of the already battered pages.
"How?" I ask.
"You know how postal service is now, Rosie," My mother says sympathetically, "And if whoever sent it mailed it from Portland, it travelled a long way..."
"Anything could have happened," Elizabeth agrees.
"No!" I shout again, my vision blurring with tears. "This-this could have been the sign!"
"Sign?"
"The-the sign-"
I lose all feeling in my body as I lean against the table in the hall. I break down, my protective walls that I've managed to scrape together tumbling down. The last shred of hope I had evaporates in the air as my mother rushes toward me to support me as I crumble down. Dizziness smears before my vision and the only sound I hear is my blood rushing and the loud thumping of my heart.
These past months, I can tell the people around me have been waiting for me to crack. The way Elizabeth would watch me warily, or my mother would look at me sympathetically. Even the way Crystal spoke to me on the phone told me he, too, thought I could break any moment, like a house of cards.
And now, I've finally cracked.
"Come sit on the couch, Rosie," Elizabeth says worriedly as she and my mother move me to the sofa, sitting me down as I put my head in my hands, the tears never stopping. My body trembles and I feel like dying.
"God, it hurts," I sob into my mother's chest. "I miss him so much it hurts!"
I feel their arms around me as I continue to cry.
My mother runs her fingers through my hair, but it doesn't calm me. My breathing is fast and I almost feel like I'm going to pass out.
"I miss him so much," I cry, my cheeks completely soaked in my tears. "He promised he'd see me again, he promised me!"
"Oh, Rosie."
I sniffled, trying to calm myself.
"I had this..this hope that maybe he'd be somewhere waiting for me or some shit like that, but I was wrong." I sputter. "A tiny part of me believed that any day he could maybe come back, but..but he's not. He's gone, it's over."
"You don't know that, Rose-" My mother starts.
"I do know it!" I say, sitting up straighter, blinking away my tears so I can see clearly. "That paper...that paper was explaining why he didn't tell me he knew what would happen to him, I know it. It was a goodbye- a goodbye he didn't put in the journal but wrote it separately."
I feel so much pain consuming my body as I try to wipe the never ending stream of tears from my cheeks.
"Rosie.." Elizabeth wipes one of my tears but I brush her away.
"He's gone," I repeat, my voice louder. "He's dead, he's dead and gone and I'll never see him again. He's probably still dead in that alley-"
"Rosie," my mother tries to soothe me but it's impossible. No one in heaven or Earth could possibly console me at this moment other than Harry himself. And I know that's definitely not going to happen.
I gasp for air but my lungs are weakened by the pain of my loss, my fear of being alone hitting me like a smashing tsunami. Now that Harry is gone, I have no one. Of course I have my family, but I have no one in my life like Harry, no one so lovely and sarcastic and simply beautiful like him.
"It's over," I repeat, putting my head in my hands. "He's gone-"
"Rose, stop it!"
I fall silent at Elizabeth's voice, looking up quickly, astonished at her forcefulness.
She stands, facing me, her own eyes watery.
"You have been so lucky to fall in love with someone as lovely and caring as Harry. I never met him, but from how you talk about him, he really loved you and you really loved him. Except, what baffles me about this whole thing is that you've barely looked for him, Rose. You've closed yourself off and become this moping, sad person these past months when you know Harry would be slaving away day and night to find you if your positions were reversed."
I part my lips to speak, but Elizabeth holds up a hand.
" Find him, ask around, and don't give up until you're either back in his arms or standing at a gravestone. You can't give up on him, Rose, when you know he'd never give up on you."
She's right. I've been in this state of shock these past five months, I guess I didn't want to face the truth-good or bad. And I know Harry would search for me relentlessly if it was me that was shot. Why is it not a two way street?
I've been such a fool.
"Love is abstract," my mother says quietly. "But at its best, it is truly beautiful."
I look at my mother in shock, remembering how Harry said almost the same thing months ago, the day Aaron and I broke up.
"I've never been in love," I say.
"You're lucky."
I lock eyes with him. "You've been in love?"
Harry takes a breath before turning his head to look out the window. He nods slightly.
"What happened?" I dare to ask.
"Nothing." he says.
"Come on, it had to be something," I say, raising an eyebrow.
"That's just it, though," he says, almost sadly. "Nothing happened," his eyes look so completely pained that my own heart seems to crack at the sight of them.
"I'm sure you'll find someone new to love," I say to him.
Harry laugh dryly. "Love is abstract," he says. "It brings nothing but trouble."
I swallow, the memory fading from my mind.
Elizabeth stares at me, still standing above me, her arms crossed over her chest.
"You're right," I finally say. Meeting her eyes. "I can't give up on him."
"Hi, you've reached Harry Styles, leave a message."
I hang up and sigh, chewing on my lip.
I have dedicated myself these past days to finding Harry, wherever he may be, dead or alive. So far, I haven't found out much. But I have more hope than I did before, so that must mean something.
Sometimes, when I feel particularly upset, I call his voicemail just to hear his voice. Pathetic, I know.
Second later, my phone buzzes and I jump, sliding it open.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Rose, it's Violet."
"Violet, yes, hi!" I sit up. "How are you?"
"I'm fine, and you?"
"I've been better," I answer truthfully, putting my sunglasses on my face as I walk from underneath the canopy of trees in Central Park, the sun shining directly on me. It's the first of June, and summer is upon the Big Apple. Zayn and Perrie's wedding is days away, and I've met with Perrie for coffee twice already, but I haven't seen Zayn. I need to speak with him, to ask him about Harry, but I haven't had the chance.
"I've heard," Violet says. "I'm so sorry"
"That's...that's actually what I wanted to talk to you about." I stop walking, stepping under a large tree.
"Rose, I'd love to tell you everything, but there's a call on line three for Mr. Greenman-"
"Violet, I just need-"
"I'm so sorry, let me call you back, okay?"
I sigh and hang up, remembering Violet took Marion's old job after she was fired for conspiring against Crystal. Crystal's second receptionist that used to switch off with Violet now works full time.
I hear footsteps and turn to see Perrie, the bride-to-be, walking toward me.
"Hi!" she squeals, a grin crossing her face.
"Hey," I greet her, smiling back. "How are things?"
"Busy as hell," she sighs. "I'm stressed, to be honest."
Although it would have been lovely, I am not going to be a bridesmaid in their wedding. I explained to Perrie that I was sorry, but I wasn't up for it, and she understood. She said she was just happy I was able to make it to the wedding.
"Well, let's see how the tents are doing." Perrie's blonde hair is up in a messy bun, sunglasses on her face alone with a wide smile.
I nod and we begin to walk down the path to the area the wedding will be held. Thinking of marriage makes me think of how I had wished Harry and I would be able to get married one day, but even thinking about that makes my breathing irregular. Everything leads back to Harry, one way or another.
Zayn and Perrie have rented two large tents for their wedding: one for the ceremony and one for the reception. So far, one of them was set up, the one that the reception is being held in, I believe. Perrie sighs, grinning widely.
"It looks great," she gushes. "So great, oh my God. I'm so excited, oh my God."
I chuckle at how she continues to repeat the words "oh my God," about six more times as we watch the guys work on getting the second tent up.
"Two more days, Perrie," I say, smiling at her as she claps her hands giddily.
"Holy shit, I can't believe this." The smile doesn't leave her face as we supervise the tent-building for a while longer.
Before I know it, I'm sitting in the second row at the ceremony, Elizabeth at my side. She's my plus-one for the wedding, and my support. Weddings are a sore spot for me, now.
I wear a light purple dress, the material satiny and slick, the cut of the dress strapless. I felt it was appropriate to wear, since it's a summer wedding and the material isn't too suffocating. I managed to curl my hair slightly today, and I let Elizabeth do my makeup. I look the most presentable I have in months.
The wedding hasn't started yet, although it begins in about a minute. I see the minister at the front, standing quietly. A white arch with pink flowers lining the aisle as well. The are is beautiful, Perrie did an amazing job.
"You okay?" Elizabeth asks from next to me.
I nod, folding my hands in my lap.
The violins begin to play and everyone sits up in their seats.
All the groomsmen walk down the aisle, along with the bridesmaids. I catch sight of Niall, Louis, Liam, and Ed; I lock eyes with Liam and we smile at each other. Niall winks at me, and I try not to laugh. Jesy, Lana, and Violet are Perrie's bridesmaids. They look so nice in their pale green dresses, and the groomsmen all look so good in their suits.
Finally, Zayn makes his way down, grinning widely. He looks so happy, I can't help but smile.
Everyone stands as Perrie and her father appear at the door of the tent. She looks so beautiful, her dress lacey and bright white. She's practically glowing with happiness as she steps down the aisle. Zayn looks so lovestruck as he look at her, his lips parting.
I watch as her father hands her off to Zayn, who offers her his arm. She gladly takes it, smiling up at him.
"You may be seated," the minister says.
I slide back into my seat, letting out a breath.
"She looks so pretty," Elizabeth says quietly and I nod in agreement.
The minister begins to speak and I tune him out slightly. It's a warm day, but not too hot. I'm glad it's not blazingly warm, I wouldn't want to sweat in this dress.
Someone behind me kicks my seat. I shrug it off, thinking it must be a small child and focus on what the minister is saying. Perrie and Zayn don't take their eyes off each other, and it's beautifully touching.
The kicking behind me doesn't cease and it begins to bug me. I don't want to make any noise, however, so I try to ignore it.
"Perrie and Zayn, I believe you have prepared vows."
Zayn reaches into his jacket for a piece of paper and Perrie is handed hers from Lana. Zayn is first and I listen closely to the words he's saying.
The person behind me kicks the chair again, and I finally turn around to tell them to quit, my annoyance level skyrocketing.
"Excuse me, could you-"
I stop when I meet vivid green eyes, eyes that have only been in my dreams. Eyes that can change from light to dark in seconds, eyes that I've yearned to see another time. Eyes that I fell in love with. My gaze moves to the flawless skin and dark hair falling in curls, pink lips in a small smirk, torso adorned in a suit, a tie knotted around his neck.
I part my lips, shock taking over my body.
I try to inhale. But I break into a fit of coughs, turning around quickly.
A few people turn to look at me as Zayn continues to talk, and I put up a hand in apology as I try to cease my coughs. Elizabeth whispers to me asking if I'm okay, and I cover my mouth with my hand in response, nodding slightly.
I try to cough quietly, my throat still tickling as my mind tries to process what's happening as i lean back in my seat.
And then I hear a deep voice in my ear, speaking words that make me want to laugh and cry at the same time.
"You know, I'd appreciate it if you kept the noise level down.