"I see you walking through the rain
And I see the water covering your teardrops on your face
And I know that I broke all your rules
Oh, now you're looking at me, and I'm looking at you like a fool
But, you don't know what it feels like to fall in love with you
No, you don't know what it's like when you can't go back
So come on inside, you catch a cold
Oh, darling the storm will pass when you grow old
But you stand next to me with a look in your eyes
And you say goodbye "
Harry
I never dressed up and walked out of my house so quickly.
I think I drove this fast only a couple of times in my life, and certainly never in my Range Rover and never in the busy streets of London.
I never hit the horn so many times either, and I never flipped off other drivers as much as I did in the past ten minutes.
It's been four days since that afternoon at the bakery. Four days of silence, again. I didn't reach out for her, I didn't go to her house. I did nothing.
I was so fucking angry for what she told me before walking away. I couldn't give less than a fuck for the cake she threw in my face, in some ways I deserved it, and I knew I acted like a fucking prick, but I was panicking.
It was a rushed decision.
I stared at my phone for days, writing texts only to delete them. I spent hours holding my thumb over her number on my phone, wondering if calling her was the right thing to do, trying to find something to say. I drove past her loft more times than I'd like to admit and no, I didn't drove by, I drove to her house with the sole intention of seeing her, but chicken out as soon as I parked outside her building.
I'm a fucking pussy, I know.
When I saw those pregnancy tests on John's table and Elle told me they were hers, I saw red. I don't even remember what I told her. All I could think about was that she might be pregnant and that if she was, I was too late.
I hurt her again. Hannah had my balls roasting for over half an hour. I didn't think she could scream so loud. Even John was trembling in fear.
So yes, my decision to go to the bakery was quite rushed. To be honest, I didn't even know she would be there, I mean, I knew she would the had the appointment this past week due to her conversation in the car with Thomas but I didn't know when.
I didn't even call Mae if I must be honest. I was on the phone with my mum and she was there, my mom told me to say that the invitation was beautiful to Elle when I saw her and that's when Susy gave me the information about the bakery. Well, she gave it to my mum, but I was listening so I decided to go.
And that's when everything went to shit. I should have waited. I should have gone to her house, not the bakery.
In my defence, I thought it was a great idea at the time. I thought the bakery was a good place to talk, there we couldn't start a fight. There we should have kept a low profile. And that's what happened, sort of.
If only I didn't hate being ignored so much.
When she didn't even acknowledge my presence, I made my mission to annoy her until she did. And it worked. Badly, but it did. I didn't think it would escalate that quickly. I should have known though, Elle never was famous for her patience and being the hot-tempered woman she is, I should have been surprised she didn't throw the cake at me in the middle of the bakery but actually made an effort to remain calm.
Shame I wanted her to explode. To yell at me and say something. I was never good with silence, it makes me go insane.
Still, I didn't expect her to smash my face with cake, and I didn't expect her to bring Camille in the middle of our fight, or tell me I would end up alone. She knows I've always been afraid it might happen, and she used it against me.
And it hurt.
These two weeks without her were horrible. It was like turning back in time when she walked out of my mum's house two years ago and never came back. Worst, it was like going back to when she left my house after our night. I felt hopeless, I felt awful, and again... It was my fault.
In the last month and a half, I had time to think. About me, her and what Carter said that day in New York.
I know he was right. I know I hurt her in the past and I wasn't there to see the pain I caused her, but I honestly didn't mean too.
And I know I should let her go and be happy with Thomas, especially after she told me he is the one. I should stop with my behaviour and be happy for her, right? She deserves happiness and it's clear I don't make her happy, not for long times periods anyway. For Christ's sake, I don't even know what I feel for her.
Am I just jealous?
Is this just attraction?
Was I stupid enough not to realize that I always loved her and it was never just physical attraction and now I'm really going to lose her?
I don't want the answer to the last question.
I don't want it because it doesn't matter. Thomas is the one for her. I lost my train. And I need to take a step back. Get back in her good graces and be her friend. It's enough for me. I can work with having her in my life as a simple friend. I can't work without having her in my life, not again.
It has to be enough.
I park my car outside her building and my eyes find her car right away. If she didn't go out using the tube or a bus, she must be home, so why the fuck isn't she picking up her god damn phone?
Mae called me earlier, telling me Elle wasn't answering their calls and even Thomas didn't hear from her since yesterday afternoon. They were losing their minds and Big Jim was ready to drive all the way here to check on his daughter.
I didn't even try to call her, more than sure that if she saw my name on her screen she wouldn't have answered. I told Mae I would check on her sister, trying to sound as calm as possible, truth is, I am worried sick.
What if something happened to her?
What if she had a panic attack and faint?
What if she went out and someone robbed her and now she doesn't have her phone?
She must be so scared.
I run to the front door, pressing my finger on her buzzer a couple of times before stepping back and wait.
Nothing.
I try again, keeping my finger pressed on the stupid button but again, nothing.
"Where the fuck are you?" I mumbled, pressing the bell again.
Suddenly the front door is open and the first-floor tenant steps out.
He looks up at me and I smile, we already talked once, when I came here to surprise Elle with the Chinese food.
"Hey. Do you need to enter?" He asks, keeping the door open for me.
"Yeah... Noelle isn't answering her phone, have you seen her today by any chance?" I ask, taking off my sunglasses.
"No, sorry." he replies, stepping aside when I motion to enter the building, "Last I saw her was yesterday morning, she didn't look too well." He adds, thoughtfully.
"Okay... Thank you and have a nice day" I say, taking two steps at the time to reach the second floor without even giving him the time to reply.
Once I reach her door I start to pound my fist against it, calling out her name.
What did he mean with: wasn't looking too well?
"Elle open the door or I swear to God I will find a way to break it down," I say out loud, running my eyes over the big red door. "I know you are home. Everyone is worried sick about you."
I lean my ear on the door, trying to catch some noise from the inside. The television is on.
"Elle. I'm not kidding, I'll...."
I stop with my hand in mind-air when the door slides open carefully and she appears.
Oh god.
She's engulfed in a heavy blanket, her face is pale, eyes glossy, dark circles under her eyes and her nose is red and puffy.
She's sick.
Ah. I told her she would catch a cold under the rain.
Not now Harry.
I don't even think before I launch myself at her, wrapping my arms tightly around her small frame and let out a sigh in relief.
"What are you doing here?" she croaks out, frowning as she pulls away from my embrace with a grimace.
I don't mind though and bring the back of my hand on her forehead. "You weren't replying your phone, everyone is worried about you." I scold her softly. "You're burning Elle."
She gives me a 'no shit' look, enveloping her self in the cover even tighter. "My phone is in the bedroom, I tried to go up but I don't have the strength," she mumbles, coughing after. "Tell my dad I'll call them tomorrow. I'm fine. Go home, thanks for checking on me."
She tries to slide the door close but I step in between it, keeping it open with my body.
"I don't think so, love. I'll call Mae to let her know you are alive but I'm not going home. You're not fine Elle, someone has to stay with you. "
I shouldn't be happy about her being sick, but I am. It's a good excuse to stay close to her and maybe, I'll manage to make amends.
She rolls her eyes, even if she's sick she manages to have an attitude, and turns her back to me, mumbling an "I don't have the strength for this shit." as she walks to the couch.
I slide the door close behind me and step out of my shoes before approaching her on the couch. She's laying on her tummy, a couple of pillows under her head and the duvet almost covering all her face.
The space near the couch looks like a warpath. I can see the microbes in the air. The coffee table is covered in used tissues and a couple of empty bottle of water. A box of Tylenol, a nasal spray and a thermometer are laying on the ground with other used tissues and a bucket.
"I wouldn't stick my nose in that if I were you." She says in a whisper, opening just one eye when I peer down at the bucket. "On second thought. Do it. Maybe you'll leave me alone after."
"You puked in it, didn't you?" I ask, rhetorically, trying not to gag at the sight.
"Bathroom was too distant." she turns on her side, running a hand over her face and sneezes loudly.
I hand her a tissue watching her scratch her face as she blows her nose.
"I'll call Mae and then I'll clean around a bit. Did you eat anything today?"
She frowns, closing her eyes and curls up into the cover even more. "I'm not hungry."
Crouching down beside the couch I run a hand over her damp hair, making her flinch at the contact. "You need to eat in order to take your pills. And we need to check your temperature."
"I don't want to eat. I'm tired," she whines yawning and I smile.
"Okay... Rest for a bit."
When I hear her snore lightly I stand up, running my thumb over her red cheekbones before starting to clean around a bit and call Big Jim. He thanks me over and over for checking on Elle and makes me promise to scold her for him for disappearing, even if he understands why she didn't reply.
Elle is sleeping with her mouth slack open, changing position on the couch every few minutes when her phone sounds loudly from upstairs.
Again, I take to steps at the time, reaching her bedroom, not wanting the loud ring tone to wake her. The phone is laying on her unmade bed, near a light brown envelope.
Looking at the screen I sigh loudly, knowing I can't not answer the call, therefore - even if I really don't want to - I slide my thumb under his name, bringing the device to my ear.
"Babe! I was worried sick! Are you okay?" His voice is rushed, almost panicked.
Now, I don't want to be rude. But If Elle was my fiancee and she didn't reply my text or calls for nearly 24 hours, I would catch the first flight from whatever the fuck I was and brought my ass here, in London, to make sure she was okay.
But she isn't my fiancee.
"Hello, Thomas," I reply, seating on Elle's bed.
"Harry? Where's Noelle? Is everything alright?"
I let my eyes move around the room, this is the first time besides from the day we visit the loft that I'm up here. Elle hanged a lot of pics on the walls along with a line of little lights. There are clothes scattered here and there, one bottle of water on the nightstand near her side of the bed along with an old copy of 'Love letters of great Men'.
"She's okay. She got fever. Mae called me a couple of hours ago and I came to check on her. Her phone was in the bedroom, that's why she didn't reply. Couldn't even walk to the bathroom to puke." I explain, returning with my gaze on the envelop laying on the bed.
Test shots.
The line goes silent for a bit, ai hear him sigh before he speaks again. "Can I speak with her?"
"Sorry, she's sleeping right now. I really don't want to wake her." I say, matter-of-factly.
"Sure," he mumbles under his breath. "You think you'll stay in our house for long?"
Our house? Since when it's theirs? Last I checked it was Elle's house.
"Yours?" I ask without thinking.
"Yeah... Didn't she tell you? I sign the contract a couple of weeks ago and she signed the one for my flat in New York." he states, and I can feel the smirk in his voice.
"Oh... Good for you", I try to play it cool even if I feel my heart ache, "And yes... I mean she's really sick. Someone needs to check on her. Actually, I might spend the night here. God forbid she feels even worse." I smirk, my fingers working on the envelop to open it.
Yeah, I know... I shouldn't find amusement in pissing him off. I decided to step back, but come on... He started it by marking his territory telling me about the contract shit.
And yes, I know I shouldn't be sticking my nose in this envelope, but I'm a noisy shit, I need to see what's inside of it.
"That's... Nice of you, Harry," he grunts and I almost laugh. He made his jealousy clear back in New York, even without saying anything, and now he is doing the same. "Tell her to call me when she feels better, please."
"Of course," I reply, shaking the envelope to let what's inside fall on the bed.
"And Harry?"
I hum, flickering my eyes between the pics. " Yes?"
"She is my fiancee." he deadpans from the other side of the line, "Keep that in mind."
The line goes off and I bring the phone in front of me, watching the screen with a mix of surprise and annoyance.
I know she's your fiancee. Even the walls know. She's yours. You won. Fuck off.
Fucking Thomas.
I sigh, resting the phone near me on the bed and take a look at the photos that are now scattered on the bed.
She looks stunning, even in black and white.
She seems happy as she smiles and poses at the camera and knowing her, I know it It must not have been easy. These must have been made for the wedding. She said something about it over the phone with Thomas when we were driving to Holmes Chapels.
I smile, putting the pics back in the envelope. She has grown so much since in the last years. Both physically and characteristically. Not only she grew up as beautiful but become also a very strong, stubborn, independent woman. She always has been, Elle was always been a handful to take, but since we met again I noticed how her personality developed. She has more temper now, she holds her ground and doesn't let anyone - expect Thomas' mother apparently - give her shit. Yet, she has one of the purest heart I've ever known. She may act like a tough girl most of the times, but I know her, deep inside she'll do about anything to make the people she loves happy. That included me once, now I'm not so sure.
The sound of her vomiting from downstairs startles me and before I can even think about it, I'm on my feet, rushing to the first floor and kneel near her, tying her hair with an elastic band I find on the coffee table as she empties her stomach in the bucked.
She tries to push me away, mumbling something but I shush her, soothing her back.
"I'm not going anywhere," I mumble seriously, handing her a bottle of water and a tissue when she lets her back fall on the couch again.
Her eyes are watery, her face sparkles with sweat. "Thank you... I need to take out this thing." She croaks, more to herself than to me, taking the hem of the violet sweatshirts she's wearing and pulling over her head, remaining with just a tank top on.
Her arms cover in goosebumps as soon as her skin is free from the fabric and she covers her self with heavy duvet, shivering.
"We need to take your temperature, Elle," I say, handing her the thermometer.
She looks up at me from under her eyelashes, putting the thermometer in her armpit. "Can you get me the mouthwash from the bathroom? My mouth tastes like shit."
I laugh under my breath, "How about I walk you to the bathroom so you can brush your teeth and freshen up?"
"I look like shit, don I?" she sniffs and I nod.
"Honestly yes, you do."
The thermometer beeps, and Elle takes it out of her armpit, frowning when she reads her temperature.
"So?" I urge her, already preparing a Tylenol for her to take.
"39°C." she grunts, handing me the thermometer back.
"Take this, then I'll walk you to the bathroom."
She gulps down the pill with a grimace, leaving the bottle of water on the couch near her and I stand, sticking my hand out to help her on her feet.
Her legs look like jelly, trembling so hard I'm scared she might fall. She closes thinly the cover around her body and takes an uncertain step, shutting her eyes and gripping my hand.
I study her for a second, and scoff, scooping her up in my arms, holding her close to my chest.
"Harry. I can walk. Put me down." She complains, shivering again in my arms as I start walking.
"Sure thing love. With your speed, you'll be in the bathroom tomorrow", I tease her.
"Asshole." she pouts her lips and I chuckle under my breath.
"Just looking out for you, love."
She snuggles her face in my chest, closing her eyes for a brief moment. "I'm still angry with you. Don't get your hopes up."
"I know. I'm angry with you too."
"Good." She agrees with a faint smile.
Once in the bathroom, I leave her alone to do her business, standing just outside the door with straight ears, ready to go inside if I hear her fall or if she vomits again.
It takes more than ten minutes - in which I text Mae again, letting her know how her sister is - before she steps out of the bathroom, look slightly better.
She brushed her hair and combed it in a high bun over her head, her face is still pale but not covered in sweat now and her eyes are a little less glossy.
"Ready?" I ask, putting the cover back on her shoulders and bending down to put an arm under her knees.
"Really, I can..." she starts to complain again but I pick her up, raising an elbow as look down at her.
"Isn't your throat sore? You should shut up for a bit."
She mumbles something under her breath and rolls her eyes, but lets me carry her back on the couch.
"Thomas called, said to call him back when you feel like it," I inform her, as soon as she makes herself comfortable.
"Oh... Did you talk to him?"
"Yeah..." I pull my bottom lip between my fingers, rethinking about what he told me over the phone, "He was worried." I decide to say.
She nods, "I'll call him later or tomorrow. I have a headache." she closes her eyes, resting her head on the pillows.
"What do you want to eat?" I ask, standing in front of her. "And don't say anything. You need to put something in your stomach."
"I hate you. Let me sleep." he coughs, frowning.
"A toast sounds good?" Even though I feel I slight pain in my chest at her choice of words, I decide to not acknowledge them, wanting to believe she isn't serious right now. She has all the rights to hate me though.
She grunts, pressing her face in the pillow, "I'll take it as a yes." I chuckle, walking to the kitchen and taking the bucket with me.
This shit stink. She might have her nose close, but I don't.
I clean the bucket and it takes everything in me not to vomit as well. I remember all the times Elle cleaned after me when we went partying and I drank too much, ending up with my head stuck into a toilet or, most of the times in a bucket just like this one. This is the least I can do for her.
I wonder if Thomas ever cleaned her vomit. He probably has. Fucking Thomas is fucking perfect.
I move around her kitchen preparing one toast for her and decide to take a little snake from a cupboard for me. I don't waste time making something to drink, nor her and I are fans of the hot drinks, besides coffee. I take a cloth and wet it with cold water, sometimes my mum always did when me or Gemma had a fever. She pressed it on our forehead to low the temperature.
When I reach the couch she's sleeping again. Her lips are dry and chapped, forming a pout as she snores through her nose.
Even in this state she manages to look beautiful and I don't really want to wake her, but she has to eat.
"Elle," I call her, seating on an empty spot on the sofa and shaking her legs. "Wake up sleeping beauty."
She ruffles in her slumber, mumbling something under her breath and snores loudly, jolting awake.
I chuckle under my breath when her eyes land on me and she frowns, looking down at the plate I have in hand.
"Eat." I urge her using the best serious tone I have. She seats up letting the cover slide a bit along her body and coughs for the millionth time since I arrived.
"How's your head?" she takes half of the toast and gives it a little bite, chewing slowly.
"Still hurts." she swallows, clearing her throat after.
I hum in reply, moving my eyes on the television as she eats.
"Thank you." she mumbles softly after a while, "For what you have done for me, you didn't have to. I appreciate it, Harry."
I move my gaze on her again, smiling softly "I wanted to Elle. No need to thank me."
She eats half of the toast, and rest her cheek on the back on the couch. "If I eat the other half I'll puke again, I'm sure," she complains, closing her eyes.
"Okay... Lay down and put this on your forehead. It helps low your temperature." I hand her the cold cloth and lay further on the couch, resting the plate on the coffee table and bring my feet up on it to get comfortable.
She surprises me when - instead of laying back on her pillows - she shuffles closer to me, resting her head on my lap and brings the duvet to cover her.
"Still angry. I just want to stay here for a bit. Okay?"
I shouldn't be enjoying her having a fever this much. I shouldn't be happy about this but fuck me. If this means I get to hold her close and have a little peace with her, I'll take whatever I can.
And you still have doubts about your feelings?
Shut the fuck up.
"Of course." I smile, taking the wet cloth from her hand and pressing on her forehead with one hand whilst the other runs up and down her covered side.
"Why didn't you call me, Elle? I could have come sooner. You shouldn't be alone when you're sick."
"Told you... I'm still angry."
"Stubborn woman."
She cracks out a chuckle that comes out like another cough, "I'm sorry for the cake, you deserved it but still... I was a bit out of line."
"I was out of line at Hannah’s. I deserved the cake on my face... Hell, you should have slapped me." I say truthfully peering down on her as she hums, closing her eyes again.
"The thing you said about me ending up alone though... That hurt me." I add, clearing my throat.
"I know, that's why I said it" she admits with a yawn. "Sleep now."
She snuggles in my lap, bringing one hand on my knee and squeeze it softly, "Missed you."
Breath catches in my throat, my heart misses a beat and my eyes widen as I look down on her, don't believe my ears.
"Elle, what did you just say?" I ask, astonished but she's already asleep.
"I missed you too."
I don't know how, but I must have fallen asleep because when I open my eyes again it's dark outside and the film I was watching isn't playing on the television anymore.
Elle is still sleeping with her face pressed on my lap. One hand still on my knee and the other holding my t-shirt tight.
I need to take a piss.
Paying attention to not wake her I stand up, checking the hour on my phone before walking to the bathroom. It's nearly 10 pm, and considering last I checked it was a little after 7 pm, I slept almost three hours.
I take a quick wee and wash my hands before walking back into the living room. Elle is in the same position I left her, the only thing that changed in her posture is her arm, she's clinging on a pillow like a damn koala, holding it close to her chest.
I grin peeps on my face as I approach the couch and crunch in front of her, putting my head on her forehead to check her temperature.
She's still burning, less than before but still high.
"Elle." I hate waking him her up, but she needs to take another Tylenol and go to bed, where she can rest comfortably.
"Elle, love, wake up," I call her again, shaking her shoulder.
She peeks through one eye and whines, burying her head in the pillow. "I hate you."
"No, you don't." I laugh, "Come on, we need to take your temperature and you have to take another pill."
She shakes her head, swatting my hand away, "Fuck off, let me sleep."
See? Even if she's seek she's feisty. That's what I love about her.
Hold on a second.
Love?
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Holy fucking fuck.
This can't be happening right now. In the last two months, I tried nearly anything to suppress this feeling. To convince myself it's only deep affection. I can't love her. She will marry another man, she's happy with him, my feelings don't matter.
I just can't.
"Harry?" she calls me softly and I blink. While I was lost in my thoughts she took the thermometer and put it under her arm, and now is waiting with her hand stickied out for me to give her a Tylenol.
"Uhm yeah... Here." I blink, looking everywhere but her as I put the pill on her hand and give her the bottle of water I left on the coffee table.
She swallows it down and the thermometer beeps.
"38°C" she informs me with a scowl on her face.
"Okay... Let's take you to bed, you'll sleep better there."
"Are you staying for the night?" she asks in a croaky whisper.
I shouldn't sleep here. I should go home and put as much distance as possible between us, at least until I'm not back in the right state of mind.
"Yes, I'll stay." Fuck off, you dumbass. I can't let her alone while she's sick.
"Okay." she nods, smiling.
She tries to stand up, but just like this afternoon her legs look like jelly, so I pick her up again, holding her closer then needed but in this moment I don't care.
She doesn't complain this time, letting me bring her the to the bedroom and lay her down. She curls up into the covers, getting cozy and gives me a warm, tired smile.
"I'll bring you a bottle of water and tissues," I inform her and she hums.
Running downstairs I grab everything I need and climb up the stairs.
"I also brought the buck..." I stop talking when, looking up from the bucket, I notice she fall asleep again.
I seat on the bad near her, letting the bucket on the ground and run my fingertips on her face, paying attention not to wake her again.
"I'm in deep shit Elle." I sigh softly, "I was an idiot. I let you go. I convinced myself what I felt for you was just lust when in reality I was scared. I didn't want to ruin our friendship and I ended up ruining it anyway. I'm sorry. If I could, I really would turn back time and do everything differently. Maybe now we'll be together, maybe now you wouldn't be marrying him. " I pour my heart out at her, part of me hopes she can hear me, the other is glad she's sleeping.
I lean forward, leaving a kiss on her forehead and let my eyes flicker on her face, she's so peaceful right now. Her cheeks are still rosy, her nose swollen. I let my eyes linger on her mouth, running my tongue over my lips and close my eyes again.
Don't do it.
I press my lips on hers softly, just for a brief moment and my heart explodes in my chest. The feeling is still there. Since the first time, we kissed in Paris never changed. It brings a sparkle all over my body and I know for sure, it will never change. Elle is it for me, and I was so stupid to not realizing it sooner.
"I'm in love with you," I whisper, pressing my lips on hers one last time.
I love you and I want you happy. I love you and I know you won't believe me if I tell you to know. I love and I'm sorry for realizing it just now. I love you and I'm sorry for hurting you. I love you and I need to let you go. You deserve better.
I stand up, giving her face one last look and walk to the stair, pulling at my hair roughly as I feel my heartache.
"Harry..."
Do I really need to say something?
I don't think so.
Also, I don't really know what to say.
Let me know what you think, I know the chapter is kind of boring but I really hope you liked the ending!
Leave a comment and a vote, it means the world to me!
All the love,
Didi.