EMMA
I slept better than I had for the last couple days, but it still wasn't enough. Everything I had pushed aside last night came crumbling back in my sleep, weird dreams bothering me all night. Harry's warmth and presence had kept me calm enough to fall asleep rather quickly, the feeling of his hand slipping up the back of my shirt, gently caressing my skin, like a soft melody.
Feeling the puff of air hitting my forehead every few seconds after I was so desperate to feel him for so long, was everything I had asked for. He had been so sweet all night, watching me, holding me, and that kiss was... I don't think I could ever forget the feeling he gave me when his lips met mine, not a shred of hesitation at the fact that we were surrounded by people we knew.
That peace that had encompassed us last night was gone. I woke up feeling everything. Stress and anger, the feeling that I could be crushed by life any second. It all just built and built, and ignoring it last night seemed to only make it worse.
I still had an ex who wanted nothing more than to hurt me. I had a destroyed apartment that I couldn't live in any longer, and wasn't sure I wanted to. He had taken away a space from me that had acted as a cocoon of protection at some of my lowest times. My home wasn't a constant reminder of Jake, like work was. He had never stayed the night at my place, the most coming to pick me up while spewing comments about how trashy it is.
He had ruined that safe space for me.
I was worried about Harry's reaction. Millie had told me that he had nearly had a breakdown when he couldn't get ahold of me, and guilt had immediately plagued me. I was so stressed about the Harry aspect of it all. I didn't want to be a burden on him. I didn't want to add to his anxiety, and it seemed like that was all I was doing.
I hadn't even had a chance to tell him about Peter. I declined all the calls from my mom since I left, just needing time to myself. I knew she was seeing him. I knew it in my gut. I couldn't work out how it made me feel, though. I was angry and sad, but I had grown up training myself to not care about him. He didn't want us, and that was made very clear to me at the grocery market.
I stayed in bed for an hour, relishing the feel of his arm around me. He was in a deep sleep, the memory of him mumbling about how he couldn't sleep without me anymore before it overcame him, playing in my head. My mind was working in overdrive as I laid in bed.
After a while I took my phone, unplugging it, and looking through my notifications. My mom had sent me a happy New Year's text late last night and asked me to call her when I woke up. It was seven in the morning, so I would give her another hour to sleep. I knew I needed to bite the bullet and just talk to her, but I was scared about what she had to say.
I check my e-mails last, not thinking that there was possibly anything important in there. I usually just got spam and coupons from different shoppes I had randomly signed up for. My heart dropped, though, when I saw an email from my insurance company. Opening it quickly, eyes scanning the contents I felt any bit of hope deflate.
Apparently, my home insurance had expired several months ago, so they couldn't claim anything from the break-in. That would bankrupt my savings. I had to replace my bed, TV, dresser, and couch. All my plates and kitchenware, and most of my clothes were ruined. Every penny I saved for my own house, money that I had put away for years to accrue interest was going to be used to replace everything.
I would basically be starting from scratch and living like I used to. Now there was no choice but to stay in my shitty apartment instead of moving to a nicer one when my lease was up, because I didn't have the money. On top of all this, I might even have to pay for a lawyer if anything with Jake goes to court, so I will be poorer than I think I am.
Suddenly, I felt hot. I slinked out of bed, careful not to wake Harry, and put on a pair of his sweats. I tiptoed down the stairs, staying as quiet as possible. I needed a moment to myself. If Harry woke up then he would immediately be trying to make me feel better. He was sweet like that, but right now I wanted to wallow in my self pity.
Starting the coffee maker, I reread the email, clicking on the link to their site to see if there was anything that could be done. I hadn't remembered receiving an expiration or renewal for my insurance through the mail or my email. I was in such a weird place, though, around that time. My mind was everywhere, still completely hooked on Jake. This was well before Harry and I had started to see each other.
I was so mad at myself. I should've taken this whole thing so much more serious. I should've listened to Millie when she told me he was harassing me. I should've been strong enough to see that on my own, but I was so blind. Blind by old love and self hatred.
When my coffee was poured, I drank it in silence, leaning against the counter, staring blankly at the wall wondering how the hell my life got so complicated. My body had this weird feeling rolling through it. Like an unpleasant buzzing. My chest felt weighted and my breathing was heavy.
I tried to shake it off, finishing off my coffee to keep me awake. I was debating on whether or not to stay down here, or lay back down with Harry when my phone buzzed on the granite countertop. I sighed, the word mom flashing on my screen.
Reluctantly, I answered, "Hey, mom."
"Happy New Year, honey."
I smile weakly, "Thanks, happy New Year."
"Is everything okay? I'm sorry I wasn't there when you had to leave, and you haven't been answering my calls." She says, and I can hear the slight hurt in her voice.
"I'm sorry. Something happened, and I couldn't get ahold of you. I needed to leave, and I've just been really busy since I got back." I didn't want to tell her what had happened. This was probably the first time I had hid something this big from her. We had always been honest with each other.
"Alright..." She says awkwardly. "Um, well, I wanted to talk to you about something."
I close my eyes, and hold back a sigh, "Okay."
"Emma, your father got in touch with me a few days ago." She says hesitantly.
I clenched my jaw, "He's not my father."
There was a long pause before she says, "I know that he wasn't there for you-"
"For us." I interrupt, "He wasn't there for us."
She sighs, "Emma, he's trying really hard to make up for the past."
"How?" I asked enraged, "It didn't seem like he gave a shit before he randomly ran into us at the grocery store. Mom, he's got his own family that he chose over us."
"You don't know what you're talking about." She says defiantly, "He lost his wife a few years ago."
"Oh, did he open up to you on your little dates you've been having behind my back?" I ask ruefully.
I know I was being cruel, but I couldn't help it. Everything was just too much, and this was icing on top of the cake. Her so willing to accept him in to our lives was pissing me off.
"Don't speak to me like that, Emma." She warns.
"Or what? Have you or have you not been seeing him since Christmas? You've been going out a lot more. Wearing more makeup and doing your hair. Just admit it."
Sighing exasperatedly, "Yes, I've been meeting with him. They're not dates or anything. He somehow got my number, and begged for me to meet with him."
"Seems like you forgave him rather easily." I said bitterly.
"Maybe if you gave hm a chance, you would too."
I was silent for a moment, taking in what she had just said. Of course, she wanted me to meet with him, forgive him, and all of a sudden we would be a big happy family.
"I'm not meeting him."
"Emma-"
"No." I stand my ground, "Why would I want to? That asshole left us."
My mom didn't say anything right away, her voice becoming softer when she does talk, "Honey, I didn't think this hurt you this much."
I shake my head to myself, resting my head in the palm of my free hand, elbow leaning on the counter. Closing my eyes, I say, "It doesn't. I don't care about him."
"It sounds like the opposite to me." She calls me out.
I grit my teeth, and take a deep breath in, "So, what? Am I supposed to be happy he's back? Mom, he doesn't give a shit about us. He felt guilty running into us with his perfect daughter, and is trying to make himself feel better. He'll leave us the first chance he gets."
"You don't know him."
"And you do?!" I yell, standing up straight. My eyes darting to the stairs, hoping I hadn't woken Harry up.
There was silence between us, both trying to keep our calm. I was now pacing the kitchen, feeling my heart rate pick back up, "Mom, this isn't fair of you to ask me."
Another sigh leaves her mouth, "I just thought that it might help you."
I furrow my brows, "What do you mean?"
"Emma, honey, you've had it rough. Ever since you were born. You've been happy with Harry, but the moment you ran into him on Christmas Eve, you went back to that quiet, sad girl. I didn't think that him not being around affected you that much, but I saw it so clearly that day. I think you at least need to have a conversation with him. I know his daughter wants to meet you."
"So he actually grew some balls and told her about us?" I say bitterly.
"Emma-"
"No." I say firmly, "I am not meeting with him, mom. I'm not letting him feel better about himself, relieve his guilt, just to leave us again. I'm not putting myself through that. I don't deserve that." My voice breaks at the end of my sentence, stopping in my tracks, and closing my eyes once more. I will not cry.
"You're right, you don't deserve that, but, if it counts for anything, I don't think he will do that to you."
I'm about to respond, but feel my phone buzz against me. I look at it quickly, seeing an unknown number trying to call me, "Mom, I've got another call coming in. I have to go."
I knew that it was probably just a telemarketer, but it gave me an excuse to end our conversation. I could hear the hesitation and hurt in my mom's voice when she says goodbye, me hanging up before she could say anything else. I knew I was being a bitch, taking out my anger on her, but I couldn't hold it in. It had been threatening to come out since I first suspected her of seeing him.
There was so much pent up anger in me. From my so-called dad to Jake to my mom. I was also so mad at myself for letting me get in this situation in the first place, for letting my Peter get to me after so many years. For letting things get this bad with Jake.
It was all my fault.
"Hello?" I answer exhaustedly.
"Hello, Ms. Everly?" A male voice asked.
I furrow my brows, "Yeah, this is Emma. Who is this?"
"This is DI Spencer."
I straightened up quickly, "Yes?" DI Spencer was the lead on my case against Jake. He was the one who interviewed me for hours yesterday, eventually calling in Niall and Lauren.
"I wanted to let you know the status of your harassment claim and restraining order as fast as possible, so you could prepare yourself for what's to come."
I felt my stomach churn, dread filling me, "Okay."
He hesitates before saying, "The harassment claim will take some time for us to investigate. Our tech guy is fairly confident he can get your texts back, but it will take a few days. We need to do background checks on both witnesses we spoke to, and I also stopped by your neighbors place earlier today for a statement." He takes a deep breath before continuing, "However, your restraining order was denied."
Ringing filled my ear, and I choked out, "What?"
"I'm sorry, Emma, but when we interviewed Jake today he gave us alibis, and has four people swearing that he was with them all day the day your place was broken into. Since there were no texts to show, the judge didn't think there was sufficient enough evidence to put one in place."
"But-" I stuttered,"No, his friends are lying. It was him. I know it was-"
"Emma, I believe you, I promise, but legally there is nothing we can do without physical evidence. I tried to present the note you gave to Lauren as evidence, but the validity of it was called into question." He said steadily.
I shook my head, "Uh, you, uh, talked to Jake then? He knows I tried to file against him?" I felt my heart nearly beating out of my chest, tears building in my eyes.
For the first time, I was truly terrified.
"That's what I really wanted to talk to you about."
"But we work together. What happens there? School starts back up next week-"
"Emma, you need to breathe, okay? I'm doing what I can to keep you safe."
"How?" I ask anxiously, "How can you? He can retaliate any time he wants now."
"I've got people watching him, and I'm setting up a patrol around your school during arrival and departure times, so someone can be close if need be. You've got someone to stay with, right?" He asked, "I know you stayed with your friend, Millie, but maybe that wouldn't be the best in her condition, and also since you would be staying in the same building."
"Um," I tried to take a deep breath, but it stopped short, "yeah, yeah, I've got someone."
"Good. If Jake is as violent as you and Lauren have told me-"
"We weren't lying-"
"I already told you I believe you, Emma." He said assuredly, "If Jake its as bad as you say he is, then I want you to try and be around someone at all times. This place you're staying at: would he know to look for you there?"
I shake my head, "No, no, he doesn't know where Harry lives."
"Harry? The guy you've been seeing, right? He knows about the situation?"
I swallow down as much fear as I can, it dangerously close to overtaking me, "Yeah, he does. He's met Jake once when he was drunk."
"He did? Could I speak with him? He could be another character witness for you." DI Spencer asked me quickly, "What's his full name?"
"Harry Styles. I could, uh, give you his address." I suggest.
"That would be great. Text it to me at this number. Do you have any questions for me, Emma?"
My brain is so raddled, filled with everything from Jake to my dad to my fight with my mom, Millie's health scares with her baby. Everything was another straw on my back, threatening to break it.
"I don't-" I shake my head, "I don't think so."
There was a pause before he said calmly, "Emma, I know this is scary, but I will do my best to get this settled for you. I'm calling your friend, Lauren, after this to make sure she's aware of what's going on, and to stay with a friend, as well. She's not pressing charges, but she did give a statement that will most likely mean a lot in the courtroom. We're gonna get him, Emma."
I struggle to take a breath, and say shakily, "Okay."
I'm sure he felt bad, this news potentially very harmful to me. I don't blame him. I always knew this could happen. I knew it was the more likely scenario. It was one of the reasons why I had put off doing this. Although with those stupid fucking texts, it would've been much easier. The reason I had deleted them was because I had genuinely convinced myself by that time that I would never go to the police. I had persuaded myself that Jake wasn't violent, just an asshole who would go away if I ignored him.
"Keep safe, Emma." He tells me, "And let me know if anything else happens, or you remember something."
"Okay." I repeat weakly.
I hang up, not wanting to hear anymore. That pressure in my chest was building exponentially, stomach churning, and hands shaking. My body was reacting severely to the news, fear racing through me. I tried to steady my breathing, but it wasn't working. They were becoming more ragged, more uneven.
I was scared. Not only of Jake, but of everything. How much more could go wrong?
"Emma?"
I turned around quickly, taking hold of my old coffee cup, and turning on the faucet. I didn't want Harry to see me like this. He didn't need this shit. He didn't need the extra worry I brought him when he should be focusing on his own anxiety and bettering himself.
"In here." I call out as normally as I possibly can. My chest was hurting, and my hands were now shaking violently as I tried to clean this damn cup.
I hear him enter the kitchen, the feel of his lips pressed to my hair, "Morning."
A sense of warmth flowed through me, his groggy morning voice reminding me of easier times.
"How long you been up? Oh, you've got the coffee made?" He asks.
There's something off with his voice, and I was desperate to turn around and look at him, but I needed more control over myself first, "Uh, for just a bit. Had to call my mom, and didn't want to wake you."
"Okay," he seems to say rather hastily, "can I talk to you about something?"
I close my eyes, and steady my breathing as best as I can, finally turning around, and saying, "Sure."
I glance at, arms folded, backed up in the corner of his kitchen. He isn't looking at me. Instead, he's staring at his coffee. I felt my heart palpitations quicken, breathing faster to try and keep up.
Harry's mouth was moving but I couldn't hear anything. His eyes were still downcast. He was fidgety and nervous, and I wanted so desperately to hear his voice. My hand shoots up to my chest, fisting at his sweatshirt above my heart. The pain grew and grew, the world around me becoming slightly dizzy, and I felt as though I could throw up at any moment.
Harry's green eyes finally shoot up, ultimately feeling as if something was wrong. His mouth abruptly stopped moving, eyes filling with worry as he sees the panicked state I was in.
A loud, heart-wrenching gasp left me as I tried to suck in a despondent breath. A tear spilled over as I gripped the counter with one hand, feeling as though I might pass out at any second. I watched in fear as Harry stepped forward, reaching out to me. Flinching away, my arm came up defensively.
My body was reacting to the fear. Not of Harry, but of Jake and my father and the giant fear that I might be dying right now. I surely feel like I am. Nothing was working. Not my heart. Not my lungs. Not my brain.
"Emma!"
My head whipped up at the sound of my name, urgent and frightened. A tone I've never heard from Harry, not even when he was having a panic attack.
He seemed hesitant to touch me now that I had made it clear I didn't want to be touched, standing a foot away from me, eyes wide and filling with tears. Guilt poured through me, adding to every bit of my pain.
I couldn't stop it. I couldn't stop any of it.
I continued to struggle for air, sucking in sharp, pathetic breathes, nearly expelling nothing in return. I felt pressure on my arm, tensing up, and throwing myself back trying to get away.
"Don't touch me!"
It sounded as if a different person said it, screechy and frantic. I moved around a shocked Harry, gripping the counters so I could get out of the suffocating confines of the kitchen.
"Emma!" He called after me, this time keeping his distance. I turned and walked backwards away from him, tears freely flowing from my eyes. "Emma, you need to breathe. Focus on me, okay." My back hits a wall roughly, and he comes as close as he can without fear of me screaming at him. "It's me. It's Harry, Em. Let me help you."
He sounded as desperate as I was, clearly having no clue how to handle me like this. I don't think there was a way to handle me like this. There was no hope. Help was futile. This was it. It had to be. The only reason why I could feel like I was dying, was because I was.
I shook my head at him, his face scrunching up in pain. "Air. I need air."
Somehow, with strength I didn't know I had, I quickly moved to his foyer, grabbing my purse from his side table and flung the door open. Freezing cold air hit my body, and instead of it making me feel better, nothing happened. I was still gasping for air, letting out a violent sob when I couldn't get a deep one in, lungs burning from lack of oxygen.
"Emma, stop!"
I was halfway down his driveway, when his arms wrapped around my body. The overwhelming fear, flashes of Jake springing to my mind, caused me to jerk out of his hold, push him away, and let out the word I never thought I would actually use.
"Kiwi! Kiwi, kiwi, kiwi-" I choke out, eyes shut, hands fisting my hair, "I can't do this!"
I practically run to my car, somehow able to find my keys, open it, and start it, while continuing to fall apart. I didn't look at Harry's reaction, his face so far deep in my mind that I couldn't focus on him. I couldn't focus on the one thing that could possibly calm me.
Driving down his street, turning without stopping, I sobbed. A few streets down, I pull over, not caring that I was parked crooked, and broke down. Gripping the steering wheel, my forehead crashed to the top of it. I choked out a frustrated scream, needing to get it out.
Death was more painful than I thought it would be. Every muscle in my body was seizing up, an overwhelming warmth radiating out of me causing drops of sweat to drip down the back of my neck. I felt dizzy and nauseous, and my heart beat hard and banged against its restraints in my chest.
I didn't know when it would stop, when life would slip away, but it dragged on. An eternity passed in pain, sobs and heaves of my chest the only sounds I could hear.
The only thought that ran through my head was that I was going to die alone.
Harry.
I wanted Harry, as I cried, tears falling into my lap off of my eyelashes. I wanted his warmth, the calm sound of his rasp in the morning. The way his lips felt against mine, and how his eyes brightened considerably when he laughed.
Relief spread through me when I was able to suck in a deep breath, lungs filling up with fresh air. The exhale was shaky and stammered, but I got it out eventually. I focused in on another breath. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Every action painful, but relieving.
That's when I realized what was happening.
I was having a full on panic attack.
Everything had become too much, and my mind couldn't take it any longer. As time passed, I was able to breathe more normal, heart still beating faster than it should. I was lightheaded and exhausted, my whole body drained. Moving my hands from the steering wheel, I wrapped them around my body, and stretched my legs out so they weren't bunched up underneath the wheel.
My body shook as I realized how Harry had lived through that many times. He had survived attack after attack. I could barely handle one. I was ready to give in. I was ready too die, desperate for it from the amount of pain I had been in.
Yet Harry had learned to live with it. Control it in some ways, training himself to ward them off or stop them. He got up every day feeling that pressure of anxiety weighing him down, and went about his day as if he was perfectly fine.
I fell more in love with him in that moment. The way he persevered, his strength, and commitment.
Then reality hit me.
Everything that had just happened at Harry's. The immense pain in his face when I screamed at him, and the fear in his voice as I raced outside to escape everything.
I had even called Kiwi. I had called the one word that would end everything.
Panic rose in me, turning the ignition on, noticing for the first time that snow was falling, building on my windshield. I turned my wipers on, and saw in astonishment that the ground was covered in snow. I hadn't even realized what the weather had been like in my hysteria.
My phone rang in the seat next to me, hand flying towards it, hoping and praying it was Harry. I didn't even look before answering, vision a little blurry from my tears.
"Harry?!" I asked frantically, the sleeves of his sweater bunched up as I wiped my face.
"Um, ma'am?" An unfamiliar voice said. I could hear sirens in the background and a pained scream.
I looked at my phone, face paling when I saw Millie's name.
"Ma'am?" She asked again.
"Yes, yes, I'm here." I answer, eyes wide, a streak of pain in my chest as I heard another scream.
"This is Cassie, I'm a paramedic with Manchester City. I've got a Millie Cooper we are transporting to Manchester Royal. She's having abdominal pain, and asked us to call you. You're her next of kin?"
"Is she okay?"
"We're close to the hospital, and they'll be ready to get her into surgery as soon as we transport her."
"Okay, I'll be there." I answer quickly, hanging up, throwing my phone into the passenger's seat. My hand came down to hit the steering wheel over and over, frustration and anger pent up. "Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"
I take ten seconds to gather myself, silently apologizing to Harry, hoping somehow through our deep connection that he can sense me, and drive off to the hospital.