"The most important thing in communication is hearing what isn't said."
- Peter Drucker
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Just like that, the atmosphere had changed again.
It was all slowly coming undone. The web of lies threatened to fall apart, and so did every little relationship killer.
In that moment, I knew that there was far more to it than I could have ever assumed.
And there was no saying what the outcome of this would be.
I was scared. My breathing had changed, now only coming out in ragged pants. My hands were sweaty and my vision blurred.
But at the same time, I felt relief wash over me. Finally, after weeks of missing communication and hateful glares, I would get an explanation.
For once, I wouldn't be left in the dark.
This was probably our only chance to repair what had been broken forcefully and against our wills.
There was only one way to find out if we could make it through this.
Any word that had been left unsaid, and any breach of trust now needed to be addressed.
My heart was beating irregularly, either skipping a beat or driving a rollercoaster, as I waited for Harry to continue.
This could decide everything.
"We do," I confirmed his statement, leaning my head against the back of the couch and closing my eyes for a moment.
I only reopened them when Harry spoke up again. "Do you want to start?"
My impatient side was fighting to say 'no,' but my head had nodded before my mind was even able to come up with a decision. "Yeah. Where do you want me to start?"
Harry bit his lip, his green eyes piercing into my soul. "Your thoughts at the park."
The park was the last thing I wanted to think about now, but there was no way to get around it. "When you walked away, a part of me broke," I confessed, swallowing my tears.
"Did you see it coming?" His hands were shaking by his side, as if he wanted to reach out and hug me.
I wished he would. "No. I remember thinking that you had been acting strange all week. On Thursday, everything seemed to turn around for the better when you wanted to talk to me. Your texts sounded more like they used to."
His lips were pulled up at one side in a sad smile. "Yes, I wanted to explain my behavior. But you ended up at the hospital."
A soft laugh escaped me. "No surprise, really. I stumbled over those stupid shoes on the porch."
Harry shook his head in amusement. "Happens to me all the time."
"You're clumsy," I pointed out, slapping him on the arm.
"Am not," he pouted, crossing his arms in front of his chest like a moping kid.
"What changed overnight that you decided to just break up?" I asked, putting our little teasing aside.
Harry shook his head. "Tell me what you were thinking first."
There was no point in fighting now, so I simply continued. "I was mostly hurt and confused. It came out of nowhere, really. You were stressed the days before, but I genuinely thought it was just work that's been bothering you."
His hand reached out to tuck a loose strand of my unruly hair behind my ears, his fingers slightly grazing my cheeks. Hot jolts shot through my body and the skin where he had touched me felt like it was on fire.
Even after all this time, just a simple touch had this effect on me.
I was sitting normally on the couch, my hands in my lap and my feet firmly planted on the ground while my back leaned against the couch. Harry, though, was turned sideways to look at me, one foot on the ground and his other leg crossed underneath him, his knee touching my thigh.
We were physically so close, but mentally, we couldn't be further apart.
"That's what I had told myself. Now, looking back, it definitely wasn't work." His lips were set in a grim line, and I wasn't sure if he was mad at me, himself or someone or something else.
"I figured," I said, my words having a hidden meaning. What I really wanted to say was 'I figured once I saw Amelie undressing in your room,' but I decided against it.
"Zoey," Harry sighed, reaching for my hand.
I was about to flinch, but tried my hardest to remain still. He had hurt me, more than those few words could let him know, and more than I was willing to let him see.
"I just don't get it, Harry," I told him, my eyes trained on our intertwined hands. He was playing with my fingers, completely lost in thought, while I tried to tell him what I was thinking about. "Everything was perfect."
"Things are never perfect, are they?" He asked.
Even though it was supposed to be a rhetorical question, I answered him. "We've had some fights, yes, but the good outweighs the bad."
Harry took his hand away from mine and leaned forward to grab his glass, slowly sipping at the coke as he was pondering over an answer.
I wanted to trace my fingers through his hair, feeling the softness of it while kissing his plump lips. Being this close to him, yet so far away, really was testing my patience.
There was no denying that he still was the only one for me.
"I'm so dumb," he mumbled after putting the glass down on the table.
I arched an eyebrow, confused as to where this was coming from now.
"I'm so dumb," he repeated, hiding his face in his hands.
"What's wrong?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"I trusted a stranger when I should have trusted you." His eyes were still hidden from my view, but his voice reflected pain and regret.
I didn't know what to say. This has been my point all time long, and a bit of my pain was eased when he realized his mistake.
Instead of responding, I reached for my plate and fork and took another slice of the delicious chocolate cake, trying to stall time.
Carefully avoiding eye contact, I ate the cake in silence, giving Harry more time to think about a way to make up for this.
Fully aware that I had said I would instantly take him back, I was now having second doubts. It just wasn't that easy to forget about everything that happened.
The silence stretched on for what felt like hours. After a few minutes, I had finished off the cake and put the plate down on the table, awkwardly keeping space between Harry and me.
I felt his eyes burning a hole through the side of my head.
"Remember when we went canoeing?" Harry suddenly asked, catching my attention.
I blinked at him in confusion, not understanding why he had brought it up. "Yes, of course."
"Do you remember what you told me right before I pushed the canoe into the river?" There was a sparkle in his eyes that I could only interpret as hope.
"I told you that I didn't trust anyone else more than I trusted you," I replied, the memory still fresh in my head.
I had been scared shitless, looking at the water and the strong waves. Harry had been there by my side, telling me he would keep me from any harm. In that moment, I had believed that he was an angel sent from above.
He was my safe harbor.
"And do you also remember what I replied?" He was eyeing me carefully, awaiting something, but I didn't know what it was.
"You said the feeling was mutual." I met his gaze, not knowing where this was going.
"Believe me, I was completely serious. I thought nothing could come between you and I, but I was wrong. All it took was someone telling me a bunch of bullshit that I believed." He averted his eyes, shamefully looking at the ground.
I kept quiet, waiting for more.
"Why?" I pushed, wanting to know what was really on his mind.
"It seemed to be reasonable. I was so naïve," he whispered, sadly looking up at me.
It was something in his eyes, something in that unbelievable sad look in his eyes, that completely broke me.
Without overthinking my actions, I leaned forward and wrapped my arm around his neck, tugging him against my chest.
His arms immediately wrapped around my waist and he took a deep breath, immediately exhaling deeply, his breath fanning my neck.
The comfort of our hug had a major effect on both of us, and after only a few seconds, I felt him relax.
I inhaled his scent, the smell filling my nostrils after a long time of secretly missing it.
My inner turmoil was threatening to tear me apart. Some part of me wanted to just forgive him and tell him that everything was alright, while another part, the bigger one, still demanded an explanation, fully aware that it could decide whether I would run away or go back to option one.
But for now, simply holding him was the best thing to do.
My breath stocked when I felt his lips press against my throat, leaving a lingering kiss on my sensitive skin.
I pulled back a little, connecting our eyes again. It seemed like he was finally awake, his eyes ablaze with feelings that he couldn't transmit in words.
In that moment, I saw the determination in those pale green eyes.
When his lips landed on mine, I didn't jerk away. My mind was frozen while my lips responded hungrily, relishing the taste his lips allowed.
My heart had never pounded so fast in my life, too overcome with feelings that I couldn't name.
Thoughts were fighting to prevail, but my body was too busy responding to Harry's, the hotness of his lips making me feel hot all over.
I knew I should have stopped him the moment he had hesitantly put his hands on my hips, gently pushing me down on the couch.
There was no denying that things were moving too fast, leading to actions that I would regret when I left without having received my explanation yet.
But the feeling of his hand on my body was too familiar, too soothing, too desirable for me to stop.
When his tongue pushed its way between my lips to meet mine in small rolls, I lost it. Just like that, we were back to our private lethal dance, my tongue never getting tired of his.
I didn't stop him when his hands wandered under my t-shirt, drawing circles on my heated stomach, nor did I pull away when he slowly pushed it up, revealing the edge of my bra and only stopping due to our still connected lips.
I was running out of oxygen, pulling away to catch my breath and this way creating the perfect opportunity for Harry to tug my shirt over my head, carelessly tossing it aside.
Lifting my head off the couch, I noticed the desire in his eyes before he closed his eyelids, hiding his emotions. His lips connected with my collarbone, harshly sucking at the skin only to let his tongue soothe the ache he had caused.
It was ironic how he was first causing me a light stinging pain that he then tried to get rid of.
Trails of soft kisses graced my body, his teeth nipping at the little bow on my bra.
I hummed in satisfaction, having fallen under his spell too quickly again, not taking any consequences into consideration.
Just as he shifted his weight on his elbows and tried to kiss me on the lips again, did I realize what we were doing.
"Harry, stop," I urged, pushing his shoulders away from mine.
He immediately stopped trying to get closer, but didn't inch away. With his lips only an inch away from mine and his eyes burning intensely into mine, I was coming down from cloud nine.
I knew that my eyes reflected determination, and I was certain that was exactly what he saw in them.
Sighing in resignation, he pulled away and sat back down on the spot he had occupied all the time I had been at his apartment today, only with his body now turned away from me.
It took me a moment until I had gathered my composure, quickly grabbing my t-shirt and pulling it over my head in one swift motion, covering my upper body from any further attacks.
Truth to be told, I hadn't minded the physical proximity. It just wasn't the right thing to do. Sex couldn't solve anything, and he still owed me an explanation.
"I'm sorry," Harry apologized, running his hand through his hair.
I watched him for a moment, noticing the way his smile fell. He was honestly sorry, and I believed him.
"What has happened to us?" I asked, not expecting an answer.
Harry didn't have one for me anyway. "We can work this out."
Silence fell over us, but it wasn't a comfortable one. As it threatened to swallow any hope, I got up and marched through the living room, avoiding several books that covered the ground.
"What did she tell you?" I wanted to know, my back turned on him.
Harry didn't reply.
"Harry, what did she tell you?" I repeated, spinning around to glare at him. "When you said you trusted a stranger rather than me, you were thinking of something she had told you. What was it?"
He shifted under my intense gaze, gulping visibly. "Zoey," he began, his voice taking on a soothing tone.
I was fed up and annoyed by him dodging my question. I wanted an answer, and I wanted it now.
"How often did you meet her, before and after we went to Starbucks together?" My voice was monotone, preparing for the worst.
"Just some occasional run-ins before, and nearly every day after," he admitted after a short pause.
I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "Was she the reason you were late nearly every day?"
He nodded, guiltily looking down at his hands that were playing with his short fingernails, picking the skin around them.
I closed my eyes, needing a moment for myself. The day he had asked me to move in with him kept replaying in my mind, reminding me of the time we had been absolutely happy together.
"Why were you home last week instead of at work?" I had a string of questions, and I was determined to get an answer to all of them today.
"My car broke down. I had called in sick that day." He averted his eyes, but I knew he was telling the truth.
"Dare to explain how Amelie – or Alicia – had ended up in your room, half-naked for that matter?" I crossed my arms in front of my chest and continued glaring at him.
"I should start somewhere else. Somehow, we always ran into each other after work and ended up talking and drinking a coffee, that's why I was constantly late," he began explaining.
I sat back down on the couch, sensing that this would take longer than I would have assumed.
"After our breakup," he stumbled over the words, "she kept visiting me a lot. Probably trying to cheer me up, I don't know. That day my car broke down, I asked her to pick me up at the car repair shop. Afterwards, I had invited her home."
My mind was replaying those awful seconds of my heartbreaking discovery, and I pulled a grimace.
"I told her about the open school day at prep school and that I had no idea what to wear. Well, she tried to find something in my closet." He shrugged, and shook his head, as if trying to clear his mind. "I was sitting on the bed, simply waiting for an outfit."
I felt sick to the pit of my stomach, but I didn't interrupt him.
"She was getting touchy out of nowhere, and suddenly just started undressing. I was confused, and rather disturbed. After all, she was supposed to be engaged. I think it was in that moment that I realized how she had manipulated me with a bunch of lies," he rambled, playing with a fluff of his jeans.
"Did you-" I nearly chocked on the words, but I had to know, "Did you sleep with her?"
His head snapped around, his eyes burning into mine. "No, Zoey, I didn't. Even if you'll never trust me again after this, please believe me I didn't cheat on you."
"It basically wouldn't be cheating, we weren't together," I weakly pointed out.
"Do you believe me?"
His question weighted me, but I nodded. "I believe you."
His shoulders slumped down in relief. "You're a better person than I am."
I snorted. After all these months of being around Harry, I was certain that there was no one out there who could come remotely close to being as good-hearted as he was.
"Just tell me one thing, Harry: what did Amelie tell you that made you break up with me?" This was the final missing puzzle piece, the only thing I needed to know just now. Everything else could be explained later, but this couldn't wait.
All those weeks of pain and suffering led to this all-deciding moment.
"She told me you were cheating on me." This time, he didn't break eye contact.
Harry was waiting for my reaction, but what he was awaiting was unknown to me. I didn't know how to react and simply went rigid.
"And you believed her." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Now his 'I trusted a stranger when I should have trusted you' finally made sense.
He looked down in shame.
"And only when she started undressing did you realize she was lying." Again, it was a statement, simply a recap of the facts.
"Zoey, I'm so sorry," he breathed, his hands reaching out for me before he quickly dropped them.
"Why did you believe her?" I bit my lip, on the edge of crying. I didn't want to cry.
"She was dropping hints that she thought you were cheating," Harry explained slowly, watching me tentatively – that at least explained why he had been acting weird -, "and on Friday, she stormed into prep school and told me that she saw you ... kissing Louis in the library."
I laughed, but it wasn't a nice laugh. "And you believed her." Those seemed to be the only words I was able to utter at the moment.
"I had my doubts, but a part of me reminded me that the two of you already had a past." As I was about to protest, he quickly added, "Not that this means you would do such a thing."
"Exactly," I huffed.
"Amelie told me she had evidence – apparently some pictures – and asked me if I wanted to see. I knew that seeing it would break me, so I told her I believed her. That was on Friday, when I made up my mind."
"And why did you want to see me on Thursday?" It was the last thing I needed to know before I could make up my own mind.
"I wanted to talk to you and let you explain everything, or just simply deny the lies that Amelie had braided into my head," he confessed.
"But you didn't. You believed the words of a woman you didn't really know over what your girlfriend of months would have said," I resumed, slowly standing up.
Harry watched my movements. "Zoey, I'm so sorry. I can't even tell you how sorry I am, and I have no idea how to make up for it."
I walked to the door, not being able to look at him any longer. "I don't know if there is a way you can make up for it."
Those were my last words before I opened the door and walked out, leaving Harry behind me to overthink his mistakes.
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