Harry
"What happened last night?"
My once slow and docile tone quickly abandoned as I storm through his attempt to answer me and I speak up again.
"What the hell happened? "Why didn't Emma come here last night? You said Emma was on her way but she never showed up. Why did she change her mind? Where did she go? Have you seen her? Is she alright? And why was I on the bloody bathroom floor?"
"Harry, just stop for a moment." Liam glares at me.
Someone isn't taking any of my shit today. Can't blame him really, the people around me have been letting me get away with way too much in recent weeks. It's not there fault, I'm a stubborn arse.
"Sorry 'bout leaving you in the loo, couldn't shift you once you had settled." He admits, anxiously rubbing the side of his face.
"Liam, seriously, I really need you to give me something here. I know it's not my place to even ask but where is Emma? Please mate." I stutter out, fisting the sheets in my hands, trying to relieve some tension.
"You listened to the voicemail then?" Honestly I don't know if he wishes I did or not. The look on his face lends to the latter.
But why?
"Liam please just... I don't remember a bloody thing so please..."
Without a word, he turns around and walks into the kitchen. What the hell?
I stumble out of bed and follow him through the apartment, completely dumbfounded as to why he won't just spill what he knows. It's not as if he acted like the ultimate drunken prat last night and did god knows what.
Is it really that bad?
"Yes, it is." He mutters his response to the question I didn't know I spoke aloud. Still, Liam isn't looking at me.
My mind goes every which way thinking of the possibilities of what I could have done, but my hangover combined with Liam's sheer presence in my flat along with the little bits that I can remember, my mind's a muddle. Can't think clearly.
As a result of Liam's continued silence, I blurt out the most ridiculous question I can think of, distraught with anxiety and mystery.
"Did I really punch Marcus?" Mentally slapping myself for how insignificant this is compared to everything else going on.
"What?" Liam asks alarmed and visibly confused. "I don't know anything about that. Jesus Harry. What the hell else did you..."
"Alright, forget that." I attempt to brush him off. Emma's father is the very least of my problems. The prick deserved what I think I gave him last night. I hardly know why I brought it up, but Liam won't let it go.
"Who the hell is Marcus and why do you think you punc–"
"Liam, drop it. Tell me what you know from last night." I begin to pathetically beg my best mate.
If I thought I had hit rock bottom having slept on my bathroom floor, begging Liam to tell me what I got up to last night is right there with it.
"But Harry if you–"
"Dammit Liam!" I burst at him. My whole body is cold and my hands are visibly shaking. I feel like a terrified school boy simply wanting to get the scary part over. "Why won't you tell me? Why are you even here?"
His face pales at my words, probably mirroring my own, and a twisted knotted lump materializes and roots itself in my throat. Disappointment and nervousness, that's all I see in his face. What a wonderful combination, always reassuring.
Sarcasm won't help you idiot.
With a long sigh I ask once again. "Please tell me what happened."
"I think you should sit down mate."
"Seriously?!" Well now I'm really bricking it.
He huffs in response to my small outburst and anxiously pushes his hair back with his fingers. I honestly don't know how to take how he's acting. He is nervous and fidgety and avoiding eye contact with me.
Is he just angry with me or did something really bad happened?
All the possibilities come tumbling in and I really do need to sit down.
I do as he says.
In complete silence we make our way into my living room. I plop myself on the couch and try to get comfortable but the vibe in the air is telling me sitting down won't be enough to alleviate the sting from the facts of last night.
He choses to sit down in the chair, creating ample distance between us. As we sit there in now tortured silence I watch Liam lean forward, elbows on knees, and rub his hands over his face.
"Mate–"
"What's the last thing you remember?" He jumps right in before I can get another word in.
I take a moment to try and find something in my memory that is actually clear. There isn't much. If I had to choose, I guess the last clear thing I can remember was when I first got to the bar. I had quite a bit to drink by that point in the evening but I remember that. I sat at a stool in the corner by the window.
"When I first got to the bar. It was early last night, well considering everything else..." He doesn't move to speak so I explain further. "Didn't have any more drink here so I went to Fletcher's. Just wanted one more but..."
Well that mantra is always a winner isn't it? I groan at myself and my stupidity but can't seem to stop talking.
"Look, after what happened back at your flat I was, well I was a bloody mess alright..." I sheepishly admit sounding like I'm trying to justify my actions. "I just wanted to forget what she said. Forget what I said." I continue to ramble, rubbing the back of my neck.
"Fuck, I hate myself. I didn't want to feel it anymore. I wanted to stop thinking about her and what happened so I just... All I wanted was one more drink, just one more. Then one became two and two became seventeen and now I've forgotten the whole bloody night."
He just sits there looking down at the floor.
Liam's silence has me shitting a brick with the dreaded mystery of what I might have done. Inexplicably now I'm a little pissed. I'm annoyed that I can't remember, annoyed that Liam is sat here not saying a word. I just want him to spill already. Here he is holding at least some of the answers I need and he's just sitting there not saying a single fucking word.
This is some subtle beautiful ironic bullshit. My entire life the past few months has been about me seeking answers people refuse to tell me and I've been a areshole about it every step of the way.
GUess this is the universe punishing me... well it's working.
"Whenever you want to jump on in here, it would be greatly appreciated mate." I snap at him, leaning forward to gage his mood.
"I get it but what happened... it's not easy to say out loud alright."
What the hell does that mean?
Dread sweeps over the entire room. He can't mean something happened to Emma last night can he? Em might be majorly pissed at me, probably never wants to see me again, but she's fine, she's gotta be fine. My girl is sitting comfortably somewhere and completely whole, safe, free from harm and peacefully loathing me from a distance.
Emma must be okay.
"It's not..." I breathlessly stutter. "Please tell me it's not Emma." After a moment he looks up.
I wish he didn't.
Liam's eyes are dilated like he's thinking of something bloody awful which only makes me freak out more.
"No, Emma's fine right? She's angry but she's fine."
"Harry..."
"Liam tell me Emma is okay!" I stand and start pacing the room, dreading any answer that isn't him telling me that Emma is safe and sound somewhere hating my guts. "I know I said a lot of shit yesterday but if something's happened to her you have to tell me." My heart continuously jumps in my chest. I feel my pulse everywhere, all the way through to my fingertips.
"God damn it Liam! You have to tell me."
With every desperate plea I'm further reminded that Em isn't mine anymore. Reminded that she's off somewhere hurting because of me. Reminded that she's probably replaying every single aspect of relationship trying to pinpoint when I started being a complete prick. Reminded of every name I called her. Reminded of every insult I hurled in her direction.
Reminded that she's probably trying to move on.
Reminded that she is now out there trying to be happy without me.
It's selfish of me, I know, but I don't want that.
Most of me doesn't want her to move on at all. I want her back, I want her back so bad and for Emma to be happy with only me. I want her here, laying in bed, her back pressed up against my chest, breathing evenly and lowling muttering in her sleep. I want every boring night with her back. I want her blonde hair stuck to my lips as I kiss the back of her head moments before I fall asleep.
But she is no longer mine and I'll probably never have a night like that with her again. I need her to be happy and right now being happy has nothing to do with me.
I know there isn't much redeemable about my character but thankfully there is this final non-areshole bit of me that wants her happy no matter what. And seeing as right now I'll probably never be part of that equation again, I need to accept it.
Emma will find someone who makes her happier, do it better than me.
That person should be me, I want to be the only one to make her feel whole and happy.
I hate to say it but I want to be the one to make her happy and no one else. Because we were happy and touching that sort of happiness is even worse once it's gone.
She will never be mine again.
"Last I saw her, Emma seemed fine. Emotionally broken but physically fine." Liam finally pipes up.
I hate his choice of words, because I'm the only cause for them, but at least she's alright.
Wait then why does he look like someone's just died?
"Look Harry... I hate to say it but Jessica was here last night. She..."
I take the few steps back to the couch and sit, willing him to continue.
"Okay" he sits up, as if to psych himself up for what he's about to say. "Last night I'm pretty sure Jessica drugged you."
"What!" I yell at him.
Suddenly I'm completely powerless. Nervously I rub my palms on my thighs and wait for him to tell me exactly what he knows.
How can that have happened? How could I have let Jessica do such a thing?
I would never let her give me anything. Never really been interested in seriously experimenting with drugs, well apart from the occasional night and still it's never anything serious. I would only let it happen with people I trust, not crazy fucking Jessica.
Before I know it my chest is heaving up and down and I need to lean back, try and get some air. I try and focus on something, anything to calm down but I can't seem to.
I squeeze my eyes shut and bring my knuckles to my eyes to attempt to relieve some tension.
No, no, no.
Still nothing comes to mind. I can't remember a damn thing. Luckily, Liam chooses now to continue.
"When I finally got up here Jess was..." He pauses shaking his head. "Well that doesn't matter. You were in such a state. I got her out and hauled you into the loo to chuck it all up. Thankfully you had had so much to drink it wasn't hard to get you started. She didn't tell me what she gave you but it's all out... made sure of it."
"What was she doing?" I ask slowly, suddenly realizing that he's conveniently left out a very crucial part of the story.
"Harry, dont." He says to me.
I know why he's pausing. Liam is asking me if I truly want to know what Jessica was up to with me when he showed up.
How can I not know? It'll hurt like hell, I know that, but I was the one stupid enough to get so drunk I can't remember anything, so whose fault is it really?
"Harry I don't know if..."
"Liam just tell me" I demand, my voice void of any emotion.
"She was, she was on top of you. Straddling you." I flinch at the image, hoping he won't notice. Pitiful, fucking pitiful.
"I've got no idea when you hooked up with her last night... I pulled her off you and chucked her out as soon as I got here mate, I promise. I know you and Emma are on the outs right now but I know you wouldn't to do anything like that. I just assumed she had done something to you."
"What else?"
"I don't..."
"Liam I want the details so just fucking tell me." I can barely get the words out as they squeeze through my throat and pass my lips.
"I honestly don't..." I glare at him and, luckily, he doesn't argue. "When I got here Jessica only had her slip on and you... all you had on were your boxers. After Jessica left I found you sluggishly rolling over. Don't sure what you were trying to do but... she had barely pulled your boxers down." I look up at him and Liam looks like he's going to be sick as he continues to relive what he saw. "It was chaos. I had her screaming on the other side of the door, I was trying to pull you to the bathroom, I'm surprised someone didn't call the police with her fucking yells."
She assaulted me, Jessica drugged me and assaulted me.
"Harry, mate... I'm really sorry." I know he's being sincere but his apology doesn't scrape the surface.
I can't get rid of the hostile visual in my head. Unwanted my mind manifests images of Jess' legs tightly wrapped around my torso as her fingers tangle in my hair and her lips press against my skin.
This is impossible.
"What you've got to be sorry for?" I ask bluntly. Standing and walking to the kitchen.
I need a drink.
Sluggishly I grab a glass and fill it to the brim with water, promptly swallowing it all. If there is one thing I remember from last night it's that I drained this place out of liquor.
Moments later I hear him follow me but I don't turn to look back at him.
I feel dirty, tainted, unmanly. The stereotype is real and I hate that I've found myself filling that roll. My masculinity has been stripped and it only took a few dozen glasses of alcohol and a my crazy bitch of an ex to slip me something to do it.
"Doesn't matter, I'm still sorry."
"You're not the one who fucking raped me." I mumble under my breath before I can stop, hoping he won't hear me.
I've never felt so violated and to make it even worse I don't even remember how it happened. How can I not remember but still feel her hands all over me?
As a man who could I have let this happen?
It's not like I would have had to use excessive force or anything. Jessica is a tiny human, 100 pounds soaking wet. All I had to do was push her off my body and get her out the door. It wouldn't have been that hard for christ sake.
Shit.
If I really wanted to get Jessica off me I should have put up more of a fight. Even drunk off my ass, I should have been able to do that.
It doesn't matter whether I was drugged. I should have known it was wrong, I shouldn't have let it happen at all, end of.
Trying to relieve the added tension in my head, that's just quadrupled given Liam's new information, I pinch the bridge of my nose. I can't get the images of her on top of me out of my head. I might not explicitly remember what happened with her last night but I can feel her all over me.
I need a shower.
"Harry I know this is a shock and that this probably won't help but not much could have happened. It wasn't long between when I left Em outside your building to when I came up here and stopped it all." He tells me in a hurried tone. As if the speed of his words will somehow lessen the severity of what happened.
But it doesn't help.
Emma's name rings clear in my brain. The constant ringing of the swift utterance of it causes my breath to catch in my throat.
Slowly I turn to look at him, firmly clutching the glass in my hand.
"What do you mean left Em outside?" I spit out her name, my nickname for her, that he so casually yet rushly said a moment ago, and demand him to explain.
"Harry she..."
"What do you mean Emma was here?" I lowly seethe through gritted teeth.
He takes a deep breath, letting out a sigh. "Last night..." He starts slowly.
Like before, he seems nervous, too nervous. "I saw her walk out the building mate, I can only assume she came up here and saw..." saw me fucking some terrible girl while I was drunk and drugged out my mind.
It's the truth but I'm glad he didn't put it like that.
"Look I don't know what Emma saw, if she saw anything, but..." and he stops, thinking back on that moment, I can only assume.
"But... what Liam!?" I blow up at him, slamming my palm down on the counter.
"Emma was acting strange, quiet, almost timid." He casually rubs his jaw like he does when he's thinking. "Harry she looked resigned, accepting of the fact that you two being really over. You know her. When stressed she can't stop rambling or having a panic attack or... she barely said a full sentence. When I found her she was just standing there in the rain, stock still and soaking wet. It was eerie seeing her like that, it was like she couldn't feel the rain at all. I got this awful feeling."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"What made you get a bad feeling Liam? What was it about Emma Parker that made you feel like she wasn't okay!?"
"Mate I can't explain it."
"Fucking try!"
"Alright alright!" He retorts, noticeably agitated. "She was pale but that was probably the rain. I guess it was her eyes. There was nothing there, no light, no energy... nothing."
I hate the image, Emma completely finished, resigned with what happened between us. "I don't want to hurt you further but that's what happened."
"I'm not hurt." I snap back.
"Harry, no one would blame you. I'm just saying after what happened with Em and now with Jessica, I just..."
"Liam! I'm fine." I burst, turning to him. "You can go."
"Mate come on..."
"Liam just go." I sigh, turning away and getting myself some more water.
Fuck I wish I had some liquor.
"Harry I don't think you should be alone right now."
I hate the way he is talking to me. He's continues to talk but I can barely hear his words, all I get is the pity.
The feeling is worse than you can imagine. If this is what Emma desperately wanted to avoid I completely understand why now.
"Harry?"
"Get out."
My friend tries to say something comforting but I don't let him. I can't take his words of comfort or attempts to get through to me, to understand this feeling. He never will and I just can't. "I said get out Liam!"
My heart rate accelerates with every word as I beg him to leave. I don't want him here, I don't want anyone here apart from one person and I can't have her anymore. Right now it feels like I'll never see her again let alone hold her in my arms and hear the comforting words that I wish she would say right now.
I never told her but Emma was the only person who got me through my nan's death. Before she showed up I was snapping at everyone and drowning in my own sadness. I let despair consume me.
As a result I made one of the biggest mistakes I could have had. Talking to Jessica that day was some form of self sabotage that I'll never forgive myself for because it not only hurt me but it devastated Emma.
God, I don't think I have ever gotten anything so wrong in my life. Em was never the selfish one, I was.
After a few moments I hear Liam move around the room before heading to the door. I don't look at him. I don't want to see the sorrowful look that I know is on his face.
It would be too much, I don't deserve to feel comforted in any way... not after what I have done in the last 12 hours.
Liam is almost out the door when I see him falter and walk back to the counter. Slowly I look up to see the reason for his action and catch him shoving something in his pocket and grabbing some book.
Before I can think why I'm so territorial, I blurt. "Leave it."
"Harry, it's nothing, really."
"I said leave it." I snipe through gritted teeth.
Thankfully he doesn't say another word. I can't argue with him anymore, don't have the energy.
Gently he sets the book down before eyeing me and tentatively reaches into his pocket, retrieving the last item I could have ever expected him to have.
The small knotted band slips from the tip of his finger and rattles on the countertop.
I'm speechless. I know Emma is angry and our relationship is as good as over but this... this is just so final, so permanent.
"Call if you need anything mate." Liam offers before finally leaving my flat.
Don't think I've ever been more relieved to be alone. There is too much to take in, too much to process.
I hate this feeling. I feel like a shadow of myself. I'm so fucking confused.
If I didn't want Jessica I would have done something to stop her, no matter what. I know that. Nothing would have stopped me from stopping her but it happened.
I hate her, why did I let this happen? How could I do this to Emma?
Emptiness and loneliness, that's all I feel right now.
Gently I take Em's ring and place it on the chain around my neck and let it dangle next to the small cross I don't ever take off. Her ring will be the same, always there. A small reminder of what I once had and ultimately ruined beyond repair.
Next, I move my attention to the weathered journal tightly wrapped up and fastened on the counter. I've seen it only once before. Christmas morning, she was holding it... the gift she never gave.
Only one person could have left it here.
This small book is inarguable proof that Em was here, close to me, last night. Came here to talk, to scream, to cry... it wouldn't have mattered. The only girl I have ever been in love with came here after all I had said to her and instead of just finding me, she walked in on Jessica and I doing god knows what together.
Bile fills my throat, I have to stop and take a deep breath before moving forward.
Thankfully, I catch a glimpse of a bottle of wine by the wall that I don't remember purchasing. I quickly uncork it before reaching out and picking up the journal.
For some reason I already know what this is. It's everything. My girl jotted down in words.
It's Emma.
I hold it tightly in my fingers, clutching it as if my life depends on it. In a way it does. This is the last bit of her that I have. I don't know why she would leave it behind but I'm beyond grateful that she did.
Taking a seat on the couch, I take a few long gulps of wine before setting the bottle down and drawing my attention to the closed book sitting on my lap, the only thing ridding my mind of what Jessica did.
Surpassing everything else, this small journal seems bigger than everything else that has transpired in the past few hours.
So revealing. So life altering.
So Emma.
Suddenly it all makes sense. This was part of her plan, what Emma so meticulously planned out and I promptly cocked up.
Should I read it? Did Em leave this behind as a mistake? Would she want me to know these things about her? Maybe I should just take it back to her house, tail between my knees, and face her.
That's if she's still here.
I don't feel her here.
It's strange but there is this deep hole filled with dread in my heart, a pain far beyond what happened between Em and I yesterday.
Emma's gone. I drove her out of the one place she worked so hard to be. Oxford was Emma's, as silly as that sounds. This place and her success here means more to her than anything else. I ruined that as well.
I despise myself and I certainly don't deserve to read this.
Maybe I should just give it to Lina to give to Emma. Well after her colorful voicemail maybe I should give it to Henry to give to Lina to give to Emma. Doubt Lina wants to be within spitting distance of me let alone anything else.
Or perhaps I'll ask Liam.
Emma seems to trust him and although it pains me to even think about Em confiding in someone so deeply other than me, Liam is a good guy. He's one of the best people I know actually. Far more level headed and rational then I, not to mention just inherently good and selfless.
I wouldn't trust her well being with anyone else.
At least Em has him. I know he'll take care of her the way I should have. I was a shitty boyfriend but beyond that I should have been a better friend.
Resigned to the fact that I won't be leaving this couch any time soon and that I refuse to part with the last bit of Emma that I have, I take a deep breath and start untying the thin bands that are keeping the book closed.
Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself here.
I don't know for sure that this is Emma revealing every little dark secret of hers. I could just be spinning this whole thing up in my head. It will probably be filled with blank pages, white sheet after white sheet revealing nothing. Now that is what I deserve, absolutely nothing.
Fuck it, stop making up excuses.
It's Emma, I know it is. This is all Emma.
Slowly and with my heart in my throat I pull back the cover, the leather soft on my calloused fingertips. I look down and I am bombarded by a page full of her perfectly messy and dainty handwriting.
This is happening. This is really happening.
There is no way for me to prepare for what I'm about to read. I know it's what I've been begging her to trust me with for months, she wrote this as part of her plan for yesterday. One thing is entirely certain, all this will hit me harder than anything else.
At the most pivotal time in her life I screwed her over, pushed her away, and fucked a girl who I have no interest in and who hurts Emma even more. Knowing what she went through and not being able to comfort her will be worse than all that.
God I hate myself.
Here it goes, as I read the first words on the page. Taking in the last little bit of Emma Parker, best friend and love of my life, that is available to me.
"I was eight years old when my hero, my best friend, my safe place, moved to London..."
___
A/N: And there you have it. Hope you enjoy and that it's not that heart wrenching. I promise the whole book won't be all doom and gloom, but it will be for the next few chapters.
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