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An Honest Mistake - The Bravery
"Don't look at me that way. It was an honest mistake."
ISABELLA
The morning comes quickly. There's a cold draft that cuts through the room, causing goosebumps to coat my exposed skin. The duvet is wrapped tightly around me. My body trapped like a cocoon. I manage to unravel myself from the thick covers, turning around in the bed, only to realize that I was alone.
The side that Ty had fallen asleep on last night is empty. Cold sheets are left in his wake, making it obvious that it has been a while since he was there. I reach my arm across the bed to grab my phone. I turn it on to check the time. I'm pleasantly surprised to see that it's only nine in the morning.
I stretch my body out. The aches in my muscles feeling relieved with each stretch. I look around my room, my eyes still waking up. As I look around, something catches my attention. A piece of paper sits on the dresser. Slowly, I crawl out of bed, shuffling my way across the room and towards the dresser.
Izzy,
I went back to the hotel after you fell asleep. Didn't think it'd be appropriate for me to stay the night. I'm going to talk to the company today to set up an interview for you. Talk later!
Ty.
I smile at the note, folding it up and tucking it in my sock drawer. Relief washes over me, knowing that Ty didn't stay the night. The more I thought about it, I began to realize that having him sleep in a bed with me was not a good idea. Our relationship walked a very thin line between inappropriate and friendly. Even though he's my friend, our past was more than platonic cuddles.
I thought about Harry: the man that I adored. Picking up my phone, I dial the number I had been avoiding for the past couple of days. Awaiting patiently for his husky voice I knew all too well.
- - - - -
HARRY
My phone rings. It continues to ring. And it continues to ring some more. I stare at the small square. The buzz vibrating against my palm. I look at her name as it lights up my screen.
It has almost been a week since I've seen her last. A week since I've heard her voice. After countless amounts of phone calls and text messages, I gave up. Deciding that I'd give her space and time. Seeing that space was what she probably needed.
I didn't think that giving her the space that been had been unsaid, but clearly wanted on her part, would cause her to go around my back with another guy.
The thought made my stomach churn and my heartbeat quicken. I guess that was a taste of my own medicine. It was easy to say that I knew how she felt that night, when she saw me dance with Rita.
Fuck, I was an idiot.
Last night, when I got the call from Ben saying that Isabella had another guy over, I thought he had been kidding. A sick joke that he was playing on me to get back on all the bullshit I put him through. However, it was the sincerity in his goddamn voice that solidified that, in fact, he was not lying, but indeed telling me the truth.
I didn't want to believe that she was cheating on me. Especially out in the open like that. However, my mind kept playing with the possibility that we were over, and that she was moving on already.
But, I shoot that theory down as quickly as it comes. Isabella wasn't the type of girl to move on that quickly, nor was she the type to cheat. Is she though? She moved on with you from Chase real quick. She also cheated on Chase with you numerous times. I shake the thoughts out of my mind, not even playing with that possibility.
The phone continues to ring. She was persistent. Not wavering, even though I wasn't giving in. Blame it on my stubborn nature. A personality flaw that both her and I share.
Ever since Saturday night, I have been beating myself up over what I did. I was pissed off, pissed drunk, and completely out of my mind. I messed up the one good thing in my life. I wasn't perfect. Fuck, I was far from perfect. My past is a testimony of my imperfections. Now, my imperfections have cost me the only perfect thing in my life: Isabella.
How perfect is she really? Perfect girlfriends don't spend their time with another man.
My heart and mind have waged war with one another. Nothing made sense. Nothing felt right.
All I wanted to do was yell at her. I wanted to yell at her for badgering me consistently to the point where I had enough. I wanted to call her out on never hearing me out and not listening when I ask her to stop. Most of all, I wanted to yell at her for caring about me so much. Giving me this love that I didn't fucking deserve.
I take another long drink from the half-empty bottle of whiskey in my hand. The comforting burn coating my throat. The taste lingers on my tongue. It numbs me to my core. Everything - all the shit if my life, becomes seemingly lost in this state of euphoric, alcoholic bliss.
Ring, ring, ring...
My phone goes off once more. I stare at her name. It mocks me. It laughs at the pathetic mess I have become in these past six days.
Ring, ring, ri-
I give in and press answer. "Well, well, well - look who finally decided to give me a call." The words slur off of my tongue.
"Harry," she whispers on the other line. "You answered."
I loudly scoff in the receiver, "Sure thing princess." I take another long sip from the bottle. In this moment, I didn't care how I sounded. I didn't care if she was hurt. I'm sure she had her little friend to take care of her.
"Are you drunk? Harry, it's not even noon." She scolds on the other line.
I dramatically roll my eyes, even though I know she can't see me. "Sorry mum."
She sighs. Her shallow breaths bring me out of my drunken state for a moment, but I quickly fall back. "We need to talk. I need... I need to talk to you, but not like this. Not when you're drunk."
"Sorry princess, don't think I'll be sober any fucking time soon." I snicker to myself, taking another long sip from the glass. I embrace the burning sensation. The numbing effects not waring off.
"I'll call you later then." And with that, she hangs up the phone, leaving me alone with my demons once again.
-
A loud knock comes from the front door waking me from my dreamless slumber. I groan as my head pounds with a earth shattering migraine.
"Holy fuck," I bury my head into the arm of my couch. The loud, persistent knocking not ceasing. "I'm coming!"
Dragging my ass off of the couch, I slowly make my way towards the door. Opening it, I stop halfway through. Isabella is on the other side. Her brown hair is pulled into a messy bun. She wears my jumper and leggings. A jean jacket keeping her warm, and brown boots on her feet. She looks up at me timidly. Dark red circles line her eyes.
Memories of yesterday flood back into my mind. Her phone call and my drunken slurs. I internally flinch at the memory.
God, why was I a fuck-up?
"Hey," I greet her lamely.
She looks up at me, "Hi," her voice cracks as she speaks. I open the door wider for her, giving her space to walk in. She takes the hint, walking inside my messy flat. Her eyes scan the room quickly, her fingers trembling at her sides.
"Erm, come over here." I lead her towards the couches. She takes a seat on the couch I once was sleeping on, while I sit down on a chair across from her.
"Hey," I greet her one more time, unsure of what to say and what to do.
An uneasy tension filters in the room. A feeling that has not once clouded our relationship. I don't like it one bit. Knowing that we were in this argument killed me inside. However, we'v been together for about seven months now. It was probably time that we had our first official fight. It wouldn't be a real relationship without one, right? It still made me sick to know that I was ultimately the cause of our argument.
"I don't know what to do, or what to say right now." She is the first one to speak. Her hands fiddle in her lap. An uneasy expression is painted on her face. Her usual bright brown eyes are clouded with uncertainty and hurt. I hate myself, knowing that I am the cause of her hurt. Her pain.
"I know that what I did was fucked up." I begin, figuring that it was most likely best that I started. "I shouldn't have danced with Rita like that, or drank that much. I was drunk and mad at you. What I did was fucked up and I'm sorry. I don't know if you can forgive me but, God... I hope that you do."
She nods her head slowly. Her shoulders slumped down, and her eyes still remaining focused on her hands. "What you did was more than fucked up Harry. It really, really hurt seeing you with her like that. Dancing like that. I-it fucking broke my heart." Her voice breaks at the end. She bites her lip to hold back the tears that obviously want to fall down. "I know that we were at Sarah's place. Why didn't you tell me?"
My breath hitches. I didn't know how she knew. "How did you find out?"
"I was in her room," she tells me hesitantly. "I needed air so I rushed into the first empty room that I found. Why didn't you tell me that was why you didn't want to go the party?"
Why didn't I want to tell her? All of the reasons that I could give Izzy to explain my reasonings didn't seem to fit. "It doesn't matter now."
"This is what I mean. You never open up to me." She comments quietly.
"It's hard okay? It's really fucking hard. I will try, alright? To open up more. But, do you forgive me?" I ask her. My eyes pleading for forgiveness.
"I want to, but I don't know if I can." She whispers.
"Please," I beg her. I need her forgiveness. I was willing to look past whatever she did with this guy if she would just forgive me. "I'm lost without you, Iz." I fall to my knees. My hands reaching out for her hands. She flinches when my hands grab hers. My heart breaking at her displeasure.
"I really am sorry, Iz. I'm so fucking sorry." I tell her softly. She bites her lip as a tear falls down her cheek.
"I can't-"
"I'll be more open with you!" I shout. "If that's what it takes to make you stay, then I will fucking try."
"I don't deserve you. I-" she whispers. Her lips tremble as she fights to hold back her tears. "I almost cheated."
Hearing her say those words fucking killed me. It hurt to know that she almost cheated on me.
But she didn't.
She didn't do anything with this guy... whoever this fucking guy was, he didn't have my girl. "I know." I say to her, wiping her fallen tear with my thumb.
"What?" Isabella hiccups through the few tears that have escaped.
"Ben mentioned some guy was with you at dinner," I tell her. I clear my throat, "Who is he, Isabella?" I ask her, my voice threatening to break.
"Ty. His name is Ty. He's my friend from back home." She quietly explains to me.
Jealousy grows in the pit of my stomach. She never mentioned him before. A friend that she had from back home; a guy that she clearly had some history with, judging from the way Ben described their interactions. I didn't want to know what they did to constitute her almost-cheating. I didn't want to know. It killed me inside that she would almost break my trust like that, but I remind myself that I almost did the same thing.
We were two fucked up people, deliberately hurting one another. Was that what love was? Purposefully hurting each other because we were too stubborn to own up to our own mistakes.
"What happened between you two?"
She doesn't say anything for a moment. "He consoled me after dinner with Ben and Jaz. He laid in bed with me and we cuddled. He kissed my cheek... but, we didn't kiss. We didn't sleep together. I just - I feel like a hypocrite. A goddamn hypocrite." She bursts into tears. Her body shaking as the tears stream down her face. "I'm so sorry Harry."
I watch her as she continues to cry. Words are unable to be said. My hands stay at my sides as I look at her weep.
"We are two fucked up people who are in way too deep." I say to her once she calms down. "But I don't see my life without you, Isabella. As fucked up as we are, there's nobody else that I want to be with."
She runs her hand through my hair. Her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Red rims her irises. Her face paler than usual. "I love you so much that it consumes me," she admits. Her eyes watching me intently.
"Forgive me?" I ask her one more time, my voice no more than a whisper.
"I -" she pauses for a moment. A war wages behind her bloodshot eyes. "Every heartbroken and trembling ounce of my stubborn body is screaming at me to forgive you."
"And do you?"
Isabella looks away. Her eyes shut as a single tear falls down her tearstained cheeks. "I want to," she breathes out.
"Then do it. Please," I choke back the tears that fight to fall. "Damn it! I can't lose you too."
With one swift motion, I pull her into my arms. We fall to the ground. Her body wrapped into mine. She lays her head on my shoulder with her nose touching my neck. My hands grasp onto the back of her jumper and her hair tickles my face. She instinctively wraps her legs around my waist. Our movements are desperate; innocent. A longing to only be in one another's arms drives our motions.
"I forgive you," she whispers into my neck, her trembling voice breaks. "Please forgive me too."
"I do," I kiss the top of her head. "We were destined for one another, you and I. I promise you that." I hold her body tight. Our tears mixing with one another as I kiss her lips fervently. She responds to the kiss, her small hands grasping my shirt. As our lips move together, I feel her shattered heart slowly mend back together. My own heart breaking for the trembling girl in my arms. If there was one thing that I needed to do, that was to get my shit together, or else I know I will lose her for good.