** TRIGGER WARNING:
This chapter contains minor violent themes and talks of domestic abuse.
There is a chapter summary at the end if you would like to skip it.
Please proceed with caution! I love you all.
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Chapter 42
I didn't know where I was going when I stepped out of the cab and in the opposite direction of my apartment, just that I needed to be alone somewhere where I could think. I needed to be somewhere where I could breathe and properly figure out what was going on in my head.
It was a lot, what had just gone on in Harry's condo. And the worst part wasn't even Bella, nor the fact that she was there, it was how he had reacted to her being there and how he had acted with her.
We weren't dating. I had made that abundantly clear on multiple occasions, sometimes even to the point where I knew that it was hurting Harry whenever I spoke about it, but that didn't mean that it still didn't hurt to see him with his ex-girlfriend.
I wasn't stupid enough to believe that he would save all of that softness, that kindness that he exhibited whenever we were together solely for me considering I hadn't done anything to make us exclusive, but after this weekend... I definitely might have been ready to.
It was hard enough having to tell all of my friends and family that he was just a friend. It was hard knowing that they could probably tell there was a lot more going on between the two of us than I was willing to admit. And maybe it took the conversation on the roof that I had with Eve to realize it, but I wanted – I want more with Harry.
But seeing him with Bella is exactly why I refrained from ever succumbing to how I was feeling in the first place.
Relationships – any relationships – are messy, especially to begin with. It's about figuring out the other person, what makes them laugh or cry; who they are below the surface. I was almost sure, for a while, that Harry and I had begun to understand each other like that, but after seeing him with Bella... I wasn't so sure anymore. It made me realize that there was a lot about him and his past that I probably didn't understand. Most of which was also my fault considering I hadn't ever tried to talk to him about it.
I was used to being a second choice, the option that came after all of the others had been exhausted, but it still sucked.
My whole 'thing' when it came to relationships was that the other person either always leaves or dies. The world isn't a happy place. People aren't to be depended on. They act of their own free will and will always choose to do what makes them feel the best, even if that sometimes means hurting someone else.
My phone buzzed in my pocket as I sped down the street, hands shoved in my jean pockets, looking anywhere but behind me at this stupid city. Through the hammering of my heart and stomping of my feet, I barely even registered it.
It was only when I had the sudden thought that maybe it was Harry; maybe it was him calling to tell me to come back, that I found myself stopping and hastily searching for the device in all of my pockets, patting every square inch of my body.
"For Christ's sake," I muttered through gritted teeth, hoping the ringing wouldn't cease before I got a chance to pull the damn phone out. When I finally located it, my heart dropped when I beheld the name on the screen, for it was not exactly the Styles that I had hoped was calling me.
Gemma. It was Gemma calling me.
Why in fresh hell was Gemma calling me?
Without giving myself another second to overthink it, dread tugging at the small part of my brain that wondered if maybe it had something to do with Harry – that something had happened to him in the time it had taken me to take the cab home, I answered the phone.
"Gemma?" my voice sounded both breathless and strained as I tucked myself into an alley off the street that I had been walking down, in hopes of drowning out some of the city's passing noise. With it now being dark out, it seemed there were more bodies and cars out than ever.
"May? May!" the girl through the receiver sounded surprised that I had answered.
"Hi," I muttered, feeling slightly awkward that the last time we had spoken, I left in quite a frenzy and then proceeded not to answer the text message that she had sent hours later. "Is everything okay?"
"Everything is great!" she chirped. I didn't say anything, merely tugged my jacket tighter around my arms while I waited for her to speak, not having the energy to initiate any more conversation than was necessary. After a beat, she asked, "How are you?"
"Good," I chewed on my lip, thanking God that she didn't live in the city and therefore would have no reason of knowing that I was not in fact good. "How are you?"
"I'm great. Listen–"
"If this is about what happened at the mall," I cut in, "Uh, I'm sorry I didn't answer your text. That was shitty of me... I just – um, there was a lot going on that day."
"Oh, don't worry about that!" Gemma chided through the phone. I leaned against the brick wall behind me, kicking at a few stones under my feet, when she added, "Actually, that isn't why I was calling. I had something to ask you."
"I – oh?" The surprise in my voice was evident and I cleared my throat, praying that this question wouldn't somehow have to do with Harry.
"Well, you know that it's Harry's birthday next week–"
Spoke too soon.
"It is?" I asked, briefly trying to remember if he had ever mentioned it to me. "Shit, I had no idea."
Gemma snorted. "That sounds about right. The idiot is always going all out for everyone else but rarely gives himself a second thought. I swear he'd forget his birthday if I didn't bring it up."
I gave a meager laugh in response, hoping this wasn't going where I thought it was.
"Anyway," she breathed, "considering you and him are... well – friends," She made sure to stress the word, causing me to cringe. "Bella and I were planning on throwing him a surprise party and..."
The rest of her words seemed to fall away after the mention of her and Bella throwing Harry a party.
Perfect. In-fucking-credible.
I ran a hand over my face, blowing out a sharp breath and then squeezing my eyes shut. Of course her and Bella would be throwing Harry a party, why wouldn't they be? Just like, why wouldn't Bella just show up to Harry's apartment unannounced whenever she felt like it? They were both big parts of his life and I had no right to be at all affected by it.
"May?" Gemma's voice cut through my thoughts and I suddenly realized that she had stopped talking.
With a sobering breath, I managed, "Sorry. You were saying about the party?"
"I asked if you'd be able to come. It's next weekend–"
What happened next seemed to go in slow motion.
I was leaning against the brick wall, staring up at the moon willing it to give me some sort of strength and debating on telling Gemma that I couldn't make it to Harry's party, and then suddenly I was being whirled around and pressed against someone's chest.
My phone went flying out of my hand, clattering to the ground a few feet away, while my arms were restrained at my sides and a knife placed sharply against my throat. The point was dull, meaning that no blood was drawn as whoever stood behind me applied pressure, muttering thickly in my ear, "What's a girl like you doing out here all by yourself, huh?"
"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" I half-yelled without thinking. If my arms weren't currently pinned against my sides, I would have slapped a palm to my forehead. This could not be happening right now.
The man's chest felt slick with a sickly sheen, making me wonder if it was sweat, and I had to hold back a gag at the thought. His breath was hot in my ear and as he pushed himself against me, every square inch of my skin seemed to be crawling and recoiling.
Breathe, May. You're fine.
"You think I'm joking?" The man at my back grunted, tightening his hold around me and causing the knife at my throat to press harder into my windpipe. I choked back a breath at the feeling, wondering if my life could possibly get any worse at this moment. "What do you got in that bag a' yours?"
I glanced down at where his one arm had me completely restrained and then back up to the other that held his weapon against me, pausing only briefly before kicking my leg back into his shin as hard as humanly possible. The man let out a yell, loosening his one arm from around my waist, while I took this opportunity to spin around.
When we were face-to-face, I brought my knee up as hard as I could into his groin. The man, standing a good foot taller than me and clad all in black, seemed like something out of a nightmare. He dropped his knife and doubled over.
Kicking the knife as hard as I could into the other end of the alley, I turned to run in the direction of the street when a hand gripped at my ankle, causing me to fall to my knees – hard. I let out a yelp of pain as the man tried to drag me back toward him. Giving myself only half a second to panic, I swung around, balled my hand into a fist and hit him straight in the face.
Given that he was already hunched over, the man swore and released my ankle, losing the limited amount of balance he had left.
"You fucking bitch!" he bellowed, staggering backwards and clambering to cover his nose. I didn't give myself a chance to hesitate before I was backing away from him. My whole body was shaking, and I had to take a few deep breaths before I could even find the energy to turn around.
"Don't you ever fucking come up to another girl like that ever again!" I screamed, urging my legs into a run toward the street. Grabbing my phone from the ground on the way back, I tightened my grip on my bag and called over my shoulder, "I hope you rot in hell!"
It was only when I was safely back out on the lit street, now thankful for the bustle of people that I jumped in step with, that I glanced down at my phone and noticed that the call with Gemma was still connected.
"Hello? Gemma?" I mumbled into the receiver, now nearly sprinting back toward my apartment. While the adrenaline had helped in the moment to subside my fear, my heart now felt like it was beating out of my chest and my legs were numb.
"May! Jesus Christ! What the fuck happened?"
"I almost got robbed," I muttered, shoving my free hand into my pocket and glancing back once over my shoulder to ensure that the coast was clear. "'S no big deal. What were you saying earlier?"
"No big deal?!" she shouted into my ear, loud enough that I had to pull the phone away from my face. "I was about ready to call the police when I heard that man. Was he armed?"
"No," I lied. "It's fine. He was a tiny guy, I'm fine."
No sense in worrying her if she wasn't here.
"May! It doesn't matter! You were almost robbed. That in itself is scary. Where's Harry? Go to his place and–"
"I'm on my way home," I interrupted, not wanting her to somehow rope me into showing back up at his place. The last thing he needed to know was what just happened. "I'm a few blocks from my place. Don't worry. I'm fine."
"You keep saying that, but I'm not so sure that–"
"Look, I've gotta go, Gemma. I'll... I'll come to the party next weekend, okay?" I said, rushing my words if only to get her to stop talking. "Text me the details. Thanks for calling, I'll talk to you later."
Without giving her a chance to say anything else, I hung the phone up and shoved it in my pocket, wincing slightly at how it made my hand feel. Upon pulling it back out to inspect, I frowned at the swelling that had already befallen my knuckles, much like what had happened when I punched Harry.
Only this time, I had punched a lot harder.
"Fuck," I groaned, running my non-maimed hand over my face.
I could really go for a smoke right now.
When I finally found myself jogging to cross the street to my apartment building, I still wasn't able to stop the violent shaking that had overtaken my body. I knew it was probably a culmination of things that had happened today causing them, but I still tried lying to my body that nothing was wrong with some deep breaths and happy thoughts as I mounted the stairs.
The last thing I needed was for Amelia or Heather –
My thoughts stopped short as I opened the door to my apartment, groaning internally at the sight I beheld.
"Surprise!" Isaac cried, jumping up from the couch beside Amelia and Heather, bounding over to me. "I got back early from my trip and figured..."
His words faded out as he looked me up and down, before frowning and closing the distance between us in two steps.
"May, what the fuck? What happened to you?" he asked, bringing his hands up to grip my arms.
"Nothing," I said with a shrug, pulling out of his hold and dropping my purse at the ground.
Heather and Amelia had crept over to where Isaac and I now stood, obviously having picked up on his tone. I turned away from them, walking toward the kitchen and wondering how the hell he might have noticed something was wrong with me when –
"What happened to your knees? Oh my God," Amelia had a hand over her mouth as she spoke.
I frowned, glancing down at my legs, only to have to reign in my own surprise. My jeans had been ripped from my knees all the way down my shins, blood having drenched most of the fabric. It must have happened when the prick in the alley tried to drag me. I guess I had been so shaken up that I hadn't even noticed.
"I tripped," I muttered with a clipped smile, turning away and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge before I could see either of their reactions.
"You tripped?" Isaac growled, coming to stand in front of me. His position had me trapped in the kitchen, the only exit being where he stood.
Gritting my teeth, I heaved a sigh and nodded. "Yes. I tripped."
"Did Harry do this?" he asked abruptly, causing me to nearly drop my water.
"What the fuck? Did Harry do this?" I asked, both exasperated and slightly angry. "No! He did not. I told you – I tripped. That's it. End of story."
"Isaac, stop. You're stressing her out." Amelia breathed and shoved him out of the way. She grabbed me by the waist looking me once over.
"He's not stressing me out," I muttered, "I'm just... it's been a long day. Can I get cleaned up and then we can talk all about our weekends?"
I managed a weak smile at Isaac, who's jaw was clenched so tightly I was worried it might snap right off, but he gave me a curt nod in response. He was obviously not happy to let the subject go but knew enough not to say anything else. Unsurprisingly, Heather still remained silent.
Amelia gave me a squeeze before releasing me. "Sounds good, babe."
With an inward sigh and a forced smile, I pushed through all three of them and headed to the washroom.
The running water of the bath was a welcome sound-buffer for the thoughts that I was forcing myself not to dwell on. Harry, Bella, his party, the fact that I had nearly been robbed and lied about it to my friends, the chaos of the whole day... a bath would hopefully be just what I needed to clear my head.
As I began stripping my clothes off, hissing slightly as I tried to shimmy my pants down over my knees, where the fabric of my jeans was now stuck to the scabbing wounds, a knock sounded at the door.
"I – uh, don't have pants on," I said through the door.
The voice, whom I was surprised to hear, answered with, "I don't care. Can I come in anyway?"
"Sure," I said softly and sat down on the toilet, resuming my attempt at getting my jeans off my blood coated legs when Heather stepped through the door.
"Hi," she said, standing at the other end of the washroom with her arms crossed, surveying me. I ducked my head back downwards to the task at hand, watching her out of the corner of her eye as she opened the cabinet above the sink and pulled a few things out.
I was surprised when she knelt down in front of me, arms overflowing with a number of first aid products, and softly set them at my feet. She pulled my hands away from where I had been trying to gently pry away my jeans, grabbing a cotton pad and dunking it in the water of the bath before bringing it back to my knee.
"Helps if you wet the blood first," she murmured, "Then the material won't stick to your wounds as much."
"Um, thank you." I swallowed.
When she was able to finally unstick all of the jeans and managed to pull them fully off of my legs, she dropped the soaked cotton pad and picked up another one. This time, she doused it in hydrogen peroxide.
"This is gonna hurt," she said and placed it on my scrapes before I got the chance to react. I let out a hiss at the sting. "You have a lot of gravel in here."
"I – tripped, ow, hard." I stammered through gritted teeth as she continued to clean out the wounds on both legs.
"Mm," was all she said, before rolling her eyes and added, "I'll have to get you ice afterwards for your hand." At her words, I quickly ducked both of my arms behind my back. She only said, "If the swelling doesn't go down, you'll have to get it checked out to make sure it isn't sprained."
Abruptly, she stood up and reached behind me to grab my wrist. I let out another small cry of pain as she turned my hand over in her palm.
"It's worse than the last time," she hummed, seeming completely unfazed. When I merely stared at her, she added, "You think I'm a lot less perspective than I actually am."
"I tripped."
"Twice now you've tripped enough to obtain injuries eerily similar to that of a thrown punch?"
I flexed my hand in her palm, wincing once, before quietly saying, "It's not what you think."
"Is Harry hurting you?"
"No!" I said quickly, "I swear. No."
"Because these are a lot of the same injuries I got with my last boyfriend."
"Harry isn't hurting me," I said shaking my head, "He would never do that – wait, what? Your last... what are you talking about?"
Heather only rolled her eyes, but they had become clouded. She dropped my hand before mumbling, "It's not a big deal. My last boyfriend was a piece of shit."
"Heather..." I said softly and stood up, reaching out so I could grab her hands. She hesitated but didn't pull away. "That is a big deal. Fuck, I'm so sorry. I had no idea."
"Don't be sorry." She said with a shrug. "I never told you. I didn't tell you now to get pity, I told you because I didn't want you to feel like you had no one to turn to."
"I was robbed," I said quickly, "Well – almost robbed. The guy cornered me in an alley, but I got away. My knees are bloodied because he tried to drag me back and my hand is all fucked up because I punched him before I got away."
Her eyes went wide. "What the fuck, May? Are you – "
"I'm fine," I waved her off, squeezing her hands. "I told you because you were honest with me. And I should've been honest with you guys, but I didn't want anyone to worry. Who was this ex? Did I know him or was it before we met? I swear to fucking God Heather I will end him. I will absolutely kick the living shit – "
"May," she said softly, with a laugh, squeezing my shoulders. "As much as I appreciate that. And as much as I – " she gestured to my hand and knees, " – now have no doubt that you would follow through with those threats, it's okay. He's out of my life now and I'd like to keep it that way."
"Thank you for telling me," I said quietly. "I'm sorry if you felt like you couldn't."
She shook her head. "I know you and Amelia are closer than we are... and that we don't always get along, but I do love you, May. Both of you. I'm sorry if I'm shitty about it sometimes, I really do appreciate all you do for me. I just think that I'm a bit fucked up from what happened in my last relationship and I inadvertently take it out on you guys."
"You don't have to apologize for that," I pulled her against my chest, exhaling through my nose and trying to ignore the pain that radiated through my hand and knee as I did so.
"It's part of the reason why I'm kind of shitty to Kevin too," she breathed, "I'm worried that if I get close to him that he's just going to end up being one of the bad ones. It's stupid. I know. I should be over it by now, but – "
"That isn't stupid at all," I cut her off, "Healing isn't linear. You can deal with it however you need to."
"I love you," she murmured into my shoulder. "And you're right, but I have to get better at expressing what's going on in my head rather than bottling it up."
When we pulled apart, I gave her hand another squeeze. "We can work on it together."
"On that weepy note," she laughed, dabbing at her eyes. "Time for your bath."
She jerked her chin toward the now full tub and reached over to turn the water off.
"It's gonna hurt again when I get in, won't in?" I asked with a wince as I began to strip down, not even bothering with modesty at this point.
"Considering I added soap, yes." Heather said with a grin.
Another inward groan and then I stepped over to the tub, placing each foot gingerly inside before lowering myself down. Aside from the initial pain of the soap mingling with my open wounds, the feeling of the warm water was incredible.
"So..." Heather said, taking a seat on the closed toilet beside the tub, "Now that we've opened up to each other – now that I've opened up to you... do you want to tell me why Harry wasn't with you when you nearly got robbed? According to Isaac, he doesn't leave you alone and I find it hard to believe that he would willingly let you walk home alone in the dark."
"It was my fault I was alone," I muttered, "I took a cab straight to the apartment but... needed some space before I could come up. That space ended up being a few blocks and a dark alley away."
"So it wasn't because something happened between you guys?"
I hesitated. It would be so easy to say no and just be done with it – to lie and ignore my problems as I have been prone to doing but knowing how much Heather had shared with me made me feel guilty even at the thought of doing that.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," she said softly, taking me by surprise. Upon noticing my expression, she added, "It's not easy to talk sometimes. I get that."
Her words alone nearly had me sagging with some sort of relief that at least someone understood. It was a far cry from her and Amelia harassing me about Harry only a few weeks earlier.
"We didn't get into a fight or anything," I admitted. "Actually, things were great. Better than great. The weekend was... hard with my family. But Harry... having Harry there made all of the anxiety that I was feeling seem inconsequential."
A small smile from Heather, but she remained silent, obviously waiting for me to continue. I cleared my throat.
"Anyway, he drove me back here to drop my stuff off and then we headed to his place," I said, swallowing hard, "And when we walked in, his ex-girlfriend was there waiting for him."
"Ah," she said with a slow nod, "And you got pissed that she was there and left?"
"No," I said, running my hand through the water, unable to meet her eye. "He told me to leave. She said she was there because she needed him and he... he turned around and said "You should go, May." I don't know... just the way he was so cautious and gentle with her made me..."
"Jealous?" Heather asked and I shook my head. "Angry?"
"Sad," I murmured. "I thought it would be different... I thought he would be different. That finally I wouldn't be a second choice, you know? Or that things might not be as shitty as I make them out to be."
"Did you tell him that you wanted him to be that person for you?"
The question caught me off guard. I didn't know how to respond, so I just shook my head once more.
"Because maybe he's feeling a lot of the same thing that you are," Heather said softly, "If you keep insisting that the two of you are friends and don't mean anything, maybe he leapt at the chance to feel wanted. If he constantly feels like he's chasing you around with nothing to show for it, it won't end how either of you want it to."
"God," I muttered with a chuckle, leaning my head back to rest on the cool ceramic. "Did you have to come at me like that?"
Heather simply laughed. "I'm just saying. You have the right to be sad or angry or even jealous, but only to an extent. You can't rightfully be upset with him for something that you never even clarified."
I swallowed, taking a shaky breath and not glancing over at her.
"You're very wise, Heather." I teased, "Do you know that?"
"You keep joking like this," she said, poking me in the arm, "but I'm serious."
"I know you are," I breathed, trying not to cringe at how her words had read me to filth. "I know you are."
"Did you tell him what happened after you left?" Heather asked, cocking her head to the side.
I blew out a breath. "Funny story actually, his sister was on the phone with me while it happened." I laughed as I continued, "but no, I didn't tell him. Mainly because he's with Bella and also because he would probably – "
Our words were cut off by a sharp knock at the door, which almost immediately turned into a pounding.
"... freak out." I finished in a whisper, furrowing my brows together.
"May!" Isaac called through the door. "May what the fuck! Open the door!"
"Isaac!" Heather scolded and jumped up, throwing the door open. "What is your problem?"
"Okay, yeah." I mumbled, "No worries. Not like I'm naked in here or anything."
Isaac didn't seem to notice that I was scrambling to cover myself as he walked in. His gaze was alight with fury, his jaw clenched. Behind him, Amelia stood in the doorway looking almost frightened.
"What's going on?" I asked, glancing between the two of them and immediately standing up to step out of the tub, now worried that something was wrong. Heather was at my side in a second, wrapping a towel around me. "Is everything okay?"
"Tell me..." Isaac breathed, his body nearly trembling with fury, "why in God's name Harry Styles is currently banging on our door threatening to break it down if we don't let him in? Saying something about you being fucking robbed?"
Christ almighty. I just can't catch a break, can I?
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CHAPTER SUMMARY:
May is upset and decides that she needs space after leaving Harry's so she gets out of the taxi early (a few blocks away from her apartment) to clear her head. She gets a call from Gemma asking about Harry's birthday, which May didn't know about. Gemma says that her and Bella are planning a surprise party.
May has an unfortunate run-in with a man in an alley that she was walking through. He tries to rob her, but she manages to get away. She hastily tells Gemma that she will go to the party so that she can get her off the phone.
Isaac, Heather and Amelia are all at May's apartment when she returns. They get upset at the sight of her (bloodied knees from her previous encounter with the dickhead that tried to mug her). They ask if Harry did it. She gets upset, says no and then goes to have a bath to get away from them all.
Heather comes in to talk to her. She says that she's had some past hard relationships and tells May that she just wanted to make sure she was alright in her relationship with Harry. May says she is alright, but admits what happened with Bella and tells Heather that she was sad.
Heather tells her that she can't be upset over what happened if she never clarified with Harry what their relationship was to begin with. Isaac comes into the bathroom asking why Harry has suddenly turned up at their apartment, banging on the door, talking about May being robbed!
Love you all. :)