#illicitaffairsau

He was just too stupid to think you guys could ever be with anybody else. But you were happy with Asher and he was happy with Vivian. 

Or he let himself believe he was happy with her. 

Because you were happy. 

But at the end of the day, when he laid in bed and held her. Smelling her expensive shampoo in her hair when they cuddled…

It always reminded him she wasn’t you. 

But he toughed it out. Because you were happy. He loved seeing you happy. He could handle settling for second best if he still had you in his life and thankfully that was never an issue between you two. 

Now, Harry feels like a complete fucking idiot. 

Because if he had only made you his wife like he had wanted too, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now. 

He wouldn’t be going over the speed limit in the London streets if he had. He wouldn’t be holding back his tears as he thinks of what you had just told him on the phone. 

But who’s he kidding? 

His eyes were full of tears, threatening to fall down his cheeks, swerving through cars, not caring if he got stopped right now, knowing he wouldn’t pull over, and his entire body was shaking. 

His hands were gripping onto the steering wheel. So hard that it was almost painful, one hand was maneuvering the steering wheel, while his other hand was gripping onto his cross necklace on his chest. The same necklace that you had gifted him years ago. 

You had told him you saw it at a jewelers shop one day and decided to get a matching pair. He’s worn it ever since. 

His eyes dash to his cell phone that’s on the console, your name taunting him on the screen, and he keeps the call connected. Just in case you woke up. 

Once Harry turned into your secluded street, his tires screeching at his fast movement, but he stepped on the gas pedal to go faster. 

His heart was racing as he pulled into your stone driveway. He quickly parked his SUV, taking notice that only your car was in the driveway, and he felt his body fill with nerves as to what was going to await him inside. 

With shaky hands and stumbling feet, he ran towards your front door. He instantly stilled at the front door, gulping down the lump in his throat as he reached for the handle, and pushed the door wide open. It was unlocked. 

The house was earily quiet and it made his skin break out into goosebumps. Harry’s body was shaking in fear of seeing you, he quickened his pace, running down your long entrance hallway, and not knowing entirely where you were, he shouted your name. 

Peering into the open rooms, trying to see if you were in the first opening of the living room, and he was getting anxious when he didn’t see you. 

He ran down towards the second opening of the hallway which was your kitchen and instantly his feet skidded to a halt. His feet screeching against your marbled floor. 

Harry gasped loudly at the scene in front of him, a wrenching surprising sob wrecked through his body as his eyes scanned the kitchen layout, and he felt pale. 

It looked like a bloody crime scene here. 

Bright red liquid splattered over the white marble floors and cabinets. He could see it all over on the countertops, against the wall, and on the kitchen stove. Glass was everywhere that his eyes could see. 

And then he saw you. 

Another loud uncontrollable sob wrecked through his body as he ran towards you, falling down to the floor next to your unconscious body, not caring about the glass breaking his skin, his hands immediately reaching for you, pulling you into his body, and he tried to shake you awake. 

Rapid tears fall down his cheeks immediately, his entire body is shaking with his sobs, his vision is cloudy, and he pulls you into his lap. He wraps one of his arms around your body and uses his free hand to move your hair away from your face. 

He keeps repeating sun and baby over and over again. Hoping you’d hear him somehow. Hoping you’d open your pretty eyes for him. 

His eyes take in your bloody nose, busted lip, your favorite lavender sweater is coated with blood in different spots, and same as your apron. He notices your limp hands have glass in different places, your leggings are black but he can see different areas with small shards of glass on them. And your feet. Your poor blue fuzzy socks are drenched in red. He’s not sure if it’s wine or blood. 

His eyes move back to your face and he stills when he sees the hand marks on your neck. The fresh ugly bruises that are showing up. He looks up into the air, releasing a shaky breath, gritting his teeth as tears flow down his face, and he curses underneath his breath. 

Harry is physically shaking with anger and guilt. He’s so upset at what Asher did to you. He feels like he can kill him, but he shoves that feeling away and focuses on you. 

He doesn’t care that he’s getting himself covered in wine and blood right now. His free hand has specs of your blood on it now, but he keeps wiping away the hair and blood from your face. 

Repeating “baby” to your face and kissing your face to wake you up. The metallic taste on his tongue makes him whimper. 

“Hold on, baby. Just hold on.”

His voice is shaky, weak, and desperate.

So fucking desperate. 

He doesn’t know what to do. You’re not reacting to anything he does, but thankfully you’re breathing. He has no idea what Asher did to you, but whatever he did. He’s going to pay for what he did. 

Harry notices your phone next to you. He takes a shaky breath in and wraps his arms around you to pick you up. He reaches for your phone as he lifts you, tucks your limp body into his arms, sniffs hard to try and hold in the rest of his tears, and hastily makes his way towards his SUV. 

He manages to open his back door and gently sets you down on the seats. He kisses your forehead with shaky lips and whispers, “It’s going to be okay. I-I’m here, sun.” 

He drives towards the nearest hospital and prays to god that he hasn’t been followed by paps. 

The entire drive to the hospital is rapid with his eyes constantly moving to the rear view mirror to look at you. To make sure you’re still there. To make sure you’re breathing. 

Harry doesn’t hesitate to park in the “no parking” zone at the emergency entrance, he immediately starts honking to try and catch someone’s attention from inside. He sees a security guard immediately come toward him and Harry knows he must look crazy. 

He jumps out of his driver seat, reaching for the back door to pull it open. 

“I need you to get me some help!” The security officer is trying to flag someone from the inside to come and help him. 

The officer looks at him in confusion, “Are you hurt, sir?” The office raises his eyebrows at his appearance. 

Harry shakes his head, quickly pulling you into him once more, he hitches you up in his arms, and starts walking towards the entrance. 

“It’s for her,” he says as he continues to walk into the ER entrance and immediately he can feel all eyes on him. 

He ignores the stares, yells at the officer to help him, and starts feeling anxious. And he follows the officer when he opens a back door that leads him to where he assumes all the nurses and doctors are. 

He can see different people running around, helping patients, and it’s incredibly loud. Loud beeping noises and chatter fills his ears. His mouth feels dry and he feels sick. 

He looks at you in his arms, a soft whimper escapes his lips, and the officer brings him towards a ground of huddles nurses that are chatting about something. 

One of them is smiling at another nurse and when her blue eyes met Harry’s, she instantly stops, mouth drops, and Harry can see her lips whisper his name in shock. 

But then she suddenly reacts and rushes towards him. 

“Are you okay? What happened?” She asks, her hands immediately reaching out to touch you, and Harry’s reflex is to curl you into his arms. Away from her touch. He’s terrified to let anybody touch you, but he knows you need it. 

“I…” Harry starts, throat raspy, and he holds eye contact with the nurse, “I need your utmost discretion,” he states in a plea, but tries to keep his voice steady. 

Harry sees from the corner of his eyes more nurses rushing towards him and one of them is holding a stretcher. 

A male nurse tries to reach for you as well, but the nurse in front of you- Harry quickly reads her name tag- Lily. 

Lily holds her hand up to stop the male nurse and she then sets her hand on Harry’s forearm, giving him a squeeze, her eyes not leaving his, and she says, “I promise you. We will be discreet.” 

Harry nods, tears welling up in his eyes, and his hands are gripping onto your skin. 

“But… you need to put her down on the stretcher.. so we can help her. Okay? Can you do that, sir?“ 

Lily moves her body to angle the stretcher and Harry quickly nods. He walks towards the stretcher, he gently sets you down, and squeezes your hands in his quickly. His shaking fingers move the sticky hair out of your face as you fall limp into the stretcher. He steps back. 

Harry stands there, frozen in his spot, and watches them rush you away to an empty room. 

“I’ll take you to a private room where you can wait for the doctor. Or myself for an update, okay?” 

Harry nods as he follows her down a hallway, he starts messing with the skin around his fingernails, and Lily opens the door to a private room. 

“You can wait here. Somebody will come speak to you soon about what happened, okay? Do you need any medical attention yourself?” Her voice is steady and calm. It’s what Harry needs right now. Her eyes look him up and down for any injuries. 

“I’m okay, maybe… maybe just a wet rag, please.” Harry says, dry tears on his cheeks making his face feel stiff, and he keeps eye contact with Lily. 

“Okay,” she says. She’s standing by the door, gives him a small smile, and then reaches out for Harry’s arm. She squeezes him.

“It's going to be okay, Mr. Styles. We got her now.” Her eyes are sincere and Harry’s face crumbles in anguish. 

“Thank you,” he croaks out, covering his face, and turning away from her view. 

He hears the door shut behind him and the only thing he can hear in the room is his soft cries. 

•••

Harry must have fallen asleep after he had gotten himself cleaned up because he almost jumps out of the chair he was slumped into when he feels someone touch his shoulder. 

“Sir! I’m so sorry!” He hears someone exclaim above him. He adjusts himself into the chair, uncrossing his arms, and is confused about his surroundings for just a second before he sees your face in his mind. 

He stands quickly, “How is she?” He quickly runs his hands over his eyes to wake himself up. 

He recognizes the same nurse as earlier, Lily, and she gives him an easy smile. 

“She’s okay right now. A slight brain bleed, but nothing major. Don’t panic. It’ll heal on its own, but we’re going to keep her overnight to monitor it. Thankfully no broken bones. She does have a couple fractured ribs, but…” she trails off, her eyes looking to the side, and she looks nervous. 

“What’s going on?” His body fills with worry instantly. 

“She woke up, Mr. Styles.” 

Relief washes throughout his body and he silently says a thank you. 

“Oh, thank god. That’s good… that’s good, right?” Eyebrows furr when Lily nods, but doesn’t follow Harry’s breath of happiness. For a split second, he feels happy that she's awake and okay. But then Lily is rolling her lips in and biting the bottom one. 

“What’s going on?” Harry asks. His voice shakes. The anticipation of what she’s about to say fills him with dread once more. 

“Mr. Styles, we asked her what happened and she doesn’t remember. She might have a concussion or she might be blocking out the memory because of the trauma. She simply might not want to remember. It’s a way trauma victims protect themselves in these types of scenarios. It’s not uncommon.” 

“O-okay?” 

Lily puts her hand on Harry’s shoulder as if to comfort him for what she’s about to say. Harry feels confused as the comforting touch. He fumbles with the skin around his fingers in anticipation. 

“She states that her boyfriend would never have done this.” 

“W-what? She— wait— she said that?” Harry feels even more confused. He wasn’t imagining the phone call. He distinctly remembers what you had said. 

Lily nods as he continues, “S-she told me. She told me that he hit her. That he—-“ he stops himself from continuing. Gulping down the forming lump in his throat. He bites his tongue because he doesn’t need anybody knowing about his personal business. 

Harry slightly looks up to keep his tears at bay, sniffling slightly, and his eyes start to burn. He looks back down at Lily. 

“He found out about something… something she didn’t want him knowing and that’s when he did that to her. I-I swear.” 

“Mr. Styles, I’m sorry. But… If the patient says that’s not what happened.. then we have to believe the patient.” She almost looks guilty. 

“Even if she doesn’t remember it happening?” Harry asks in desperation, not believing what she’s saying. 

Lily nods with a small frown on her lips. 

“I can take you to see her, if you’d like.” 

Harry immediately nods and follows her down to your room. Lily knocks when they stand in front of the room and when Harry walks in, his lips quiver and his heart feels heavy. 

“Oh, baby.” He whimpers out as he takes in your appearance. He manages to grasp onto the door to ground himself from the way his knees buckle at the sight of you. They’ve cleaned you up, but all the bruising from your face and neck makes him wish it was him in the bed instead of you. 

You're laying down against the hospital bed, covered in a white blanket, with your head tilted back, but it only showcased the ugly, raw, and red marks on your neck. It made Harry internally weep at the sight. You have a machine on your right side connected to your IV and Harry can only imagine its fluids. Or maybe pain medication. He doesn’t dwell on it too long. 

Your arms are laying over the blankets and resting on your stomach. Your hands are delicately covered in white gauze, but only your palms. And he knows it’s because of all the tiny glass cuts you had. 

When his eyes land in your face, he wishes he could erase this picture from his brain. He pleads to the gods above that this is the last time he will ever see you hurt. He doesn’t think he can survive seeing you like this again. 

Your bottom lip has a big cut on it which is making your lip a little swollen. Your entire right cheek is bright red with undertones of purples and you have one big bruise forming on your left cheekbone. Your nose has a small splint on it, but he can see the swelling underneath and the bruising on the sides. 

Harry doesn’t even want to think about what you went through. 

It’s almost as if you felt his presence because you slowly tilt your head down and your eyes search the room. When you meet his gaze, your entire body relaxes with relief and his name falls out of your lips like butter. 

Harry is immediately at your side, wanting to hold you and touch you, but he stops himself.  He hesitates in front of you and your covered hand reaches for him. His hand immediately covers yours, warm with gauze but cold fingers, and he starts crying. 

“I-I,” Harry tries to form words, but his voice is muffled because of his sobs. He falls into the chair next to you and covers his face with his arms on top of the bed. 

Your hand is immediately intertwined with his curls and you're rubbing his scalp to try to calm him down. 

“They told me you found me?” You question and he cries harder at your voice. It’s raspy and hoarse. You don’t sound like yourself, you sound like you’re in pain, and he knows you are. It makes him cry even harder. 

Harry can only nod at your question. He lifts his head to look at you and you try to give him a small smile. He’s looking into your eyes, your beautiful eyes, and he sniffles. 

He ghosts one of his hands over your face and you almost want to melt into it, but you don’t. Because you know how bad you look and how every single part of your body hurts right now. 

Instead, you grab his hand in yours once again. 

“I’m okay,” you whisper with tears in your own eyes as you watch his red eyes. His green eyes are bright against the red, his nose is red too, cheeks are flushed, lips bright pink, and he looks beautiful. 

“Do you remember anything?” Harry asks between his sniffles. 

You roll your lips inside your mouth for a second and bite down on your unaffected side, eyebrows furred down, and you shake your head. 

“I… I don’t. I’m… I’m assuming someone broke in? Maybe someone tried to steal from me and did this?” Your voice sounds as if you’re trying to convince yourself this is what happened. Instead of the reality that Harry knows about. 

“Baby,” Harry whimpers out. “You called me… and told me Asher had found out about us.” 

“Asher?” You question in a low tone, feeling confused once again. 

“You… you said he hit you.” Harry gulps down the lump in his throat after he speaks those words and takes in your reaction. 

Your eyes almost bulge out of your head. Frowning, you exclaim, “Hit me?! Asher would never, Harry.” 

Suddenly, you’re pulling your hand out of his hold and Harry feels like you’re retracting from him. 

“Baby, I wouldn’t lie—-“ 

“Stop it!” You cut him off, crossing your arms over your chest, ignoring the sharp pain that runs through your body as you touch your aching ribs. 

His eyes dart to your stomach and back to you. 

“Are you—“ 

“Stop.” You spat at him, feeling furious at him for even suggesting that Asher would do this to you. Asher would never do this. Never. 

“Asher would never do this to me, Harry. Are you—- what are you— are you lying to me? Is this a joke? Is this some sick fucking joke? Maybe I did this to myself!! I’m fucking clumsy. I’m sure I just fell on my own. Maybe I dropped the wine bottle myself and tripped and hurt myself!” You cry out to him as fast tears start running down your cheeks. Your mouth speaks faster than your own brain. Spilling anything that would make more sense than what Harry is telling you. 

“Baby. Baby. Baby.. what are you.. what are you saying? Baby, stop. He caused your head to bleed. He caused you a brain bleed, baby. You.. you didn’t do this to yourself. How could.. how could you have done this to yourself?” Harry cries as he stumbles over his words quickly at you. 

“Asher didn’t do this to me,” you state confidently even though you feel confused about the whole thing. “Why would he do this to me, H?” More tears filling your eyes at Harry’s accusations. 

Asher didn’t do this to you. He couldn’t have. Could he? 

“He did this to you! He hit you!” His voice goes higher as his frustrations rise, his lips in a frown. 

“You’re lying!! Stop lying to me. Why would Asher do this to me, Harry?! He loves me. And I know you love me. You’re my best fucking friend, but you’re crossing a line. He would never do this to me. You need to leave. You’re lying to me. I don’t want you here.” 

“W-what?” Harry’s gaping at you, mouth dropped in shock, and a sob escapes his lips once more. 

“Go. Now! I don’t want to look at you!” You turn away from him, sniffling, and wiping your tears away. 

“You can’t be serious, Y/N. Listen to yourself,” he tries to plead with you as he tries to reach for your hand, but you turn your body to move. Ignoring the pain it causes you. You don’t look at him. 

“Leave,” you demand once more. Ignoring his cries and his words. 

“O-okay, baby. I’m going to leave. But… but… please. Please try to remember my love. Please,” he begs you. 

You don’t say anything. You just stare out the window until you hear him get up and leave. You sit in silence for a couple minutes. Trying to think about everything he said. You wipe away your tears and reach for the call light to call for your nurse. 

You press the red button and adjust yourself to relax against the mattress, trying to inhale a deep breath, and Lily comes into the room. 

“Hi, love. Did you call? Need some help?” 

“Yes, Lily. I did. Harry gave you my phone, right?” 

“He did.”

“Okay,” you make eye contact with her. “Can you please call the person under the name of Asher? Can you let him know what’s happened and where I am? The code is 0509.”

A look of uncertainty flashes over Lily’s face, but she quickly controls her reaction. You don’t question it because she nods quickly right after. 

“Of course, Mrs. Y/L/N.” She smiles at you, “I’ll be right back.” 

Lily leaves the room and you close your eyes for a second. 

You try to unclear your mind, trying to remember what happened, and flashes of what happened play out. 

You see the wine bottle falling down onto the floor loudly.

You see yourself crawling into the corner and the feeling of true terror fills your body at the memory. 

You can see yourself begging the person to stop, but you can’t see their face. 

Your face crumbles in frustration at not being able to remember the one most important detail. 

You sigh, opening your eyes, and you decide to wait for Asher to walk through the door. 

Maybe he can help you remember. Maybe he’s spoken to the police and maybe they’ve already found the person who did this. 

But there’s also a part of you wondering why he isn’t here right now. Wouldn’t he have found you after coming home from work? Maybe he had to work late. 

You shake your head at the intrusive thoughts. 

You try to relax once again, trying not to feel bad for kicking Harry out, but you know Asher would have never done this to you. 

But you couldn’t find it in yourself to speak to him. Let alone see him. 

Sometimes.. sometimes you’d cry sitting against the front door as you listened to Harry talking to you from behind it. 

But you would simply just text him to leave you alone and that you couldn’t speak to him anymore. 

He sent you so many messages daily and it made you feel guilty. Guilty for shutting him out after he was there for you.  Ashamed for what you had done to Asher. And terrified because you didn’t want anything to happen to Harry. The more you thought about what had happened to you… the more it made you afraid of Harry getting hurt because of you. 

You just felt so horrible. So ashamed. So guilty. So gross. 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to record anything for your socials. 

You had been posting old drafts that you had saved for a rainy day and you feared that your followers were slowly realizing something was going on. But you ignored the feeling and persisted with your day to day life. 

Well, you were trying. 

Your body still aches. You still felt incredibly sore, but it was slowly getting better. 

The swelling around your face had gone down and the bruising was now a greenish/yellowing color. You still felt horrible. You felt hideous and ashamed. 

You didn’t know why, but you felt so ashamed of yourself. 

And you were terrified of Asher. 

You couldn’t even look at him. He had gone on with his day to day life after you had been released from the hospital. He tried to be there for you, but he could tell something was wrong because you wouldn’t let him touch you. 

You were so scared of him and you didn’t know why. You kept having nightmares of ‘the accident’ and the more and more you dreamt of it… the more the person resembled Asher. The more you saw the figure in your mind… the more their features twisted into Asher’s. 

Those dark eyes turned into angry blue ones. The messy black hair in your dreams turned into bright blonde. The blurry jaw turned sharp and all the features soon morphed into Asher. And it terrified you. 

Had it been Asher who had done this to you? 

The more you thought about it… the more those muffled words the person yelled turned into words yelled at you by Asher. 

The more you think about it the more your breathing starts feeling restricted because you can almost feel the way his strong hand was pressed against the base of your neck. The way he was physically choking you against the wall and how you cried to him, begging him to let you go, but he never did. 

Silent tears fall down your cheeks as the memories pile into your thoughts. You didn’t want to believe it. 

You couldn’t believe it. 

You grip onto your shoulders as you hug your knees to your chest and the cold bathtub feels good on your naked skin. But you feel hollow inside.. almost empty. 

The water surrounding your naked body is cold and your skin is breaking out into goosebumps. But you can’t find it in yourself to get out of it. 

You feel as if you’re drowning in all of your emotions with your heart pounding in your ears. Trying to find the meaning of why he did this to you. 

Why would he leave you with these scars inside of you that will never heal? 

You know what you did was wrong. So wrong. That’s why you hadn’t spoken to Harry in two weeks, but did you honestly deserve all of this? 

Maybe you did. 

Maybe you did deserve this. 

You did this. You cheated on him. You hurt him first. You destroyed him first. He just got even. 

The annoying little voice in your head kept repeating those sentences to you and you were starting to believe it. 

You let out a shaky breath as your body shakes with it. You slowly start to get out of the bathtub, your body feeling weak, and you know you look like shit. 

You had been feeling so nauseated and disgusting. You couldn’t keep anything down, but you kept trying. 

You obviously haven't been eating right and your body is showing it, but you avoid yourself in the mirror and dry yourself off in the dark closet. You pull on an oversized jumper and matching bottoms. You braid your wet hair into a braid and let out a deep sigh. Your chest feels heavy. 

You sit for a second, letting your eyes slowly go up, and you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your dark under eyes and hollow cheeks are enough to make you instantly look away. The bruises you still hold make your eyes sting. The fading handprint marks on your neck make you cringe. You close your eyes quickly and curse at yourself. 

You slowly make your way to your bed, putting your phone to charge, and slipping under the covers. 

And at that moment, Asher walks into the room in his work suit. His eyes immediately find you and you freeze in the bed. 

You wonder if he knows that you know it was him.  

Was it him? 

It was. 

His eyes never leave you as he bends down in front of you. You grip onto the covers around you and hold your breath when his fingers caress your face. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks with sincerity in his voice and warmth in his eyes. And you wonder how he could have ever laid a hand on you. 

“I’m okay,” you reply in a whisper and try to not shake underneath his touch. 

Why are you afraid of him? He was upset and you deserved it. 

“I’m glad,” he says as he quickly kisses your forehead and then goes into the bathroom. He shuts the door behind him and you let out a shaky breath that you were holding in. You wipe the wet kiss he left on your skin and then when you hear the shower start, your body relaxes into the bed. 

Then your phone vibrates on your nightstand. 

Your entire body runs cold and you quickly get it, jogging out of the room, and running downstairs. 

You step outside into your patio and answer your phone. The cold air hitting your face and making you instantly shiver.  

“You have to stop calling me,” you whisper immediately when you put the phone to your ear. Your heart thumps rapidly inside of your chest. 

You hear a small sniffle from the other side of the call and your heart tightens. 

“Sun..” 

You clench your eyes tightly and try to even out your breathing, “Harry. I’ve told you to stop calling me. You.. you can’t call me anymore. Whatever we had, it’s done. It-it’s over.” 

Even if your heart is screaming at you to let him back in. To ask him to come save you. To save you from Asher. To save you from yourself. 

“Just please tell me why you’re still there! He hurt you! He did this to you. Why don’t you believe me?!” His voice is filled with anguish, disbelief, and he sounds absolutely devastated. 

Because you can't admit that he did this to you. Because you deserve everything he did. Because you made the biggest mistake when you slept with Harry again. Harry doesn’t want you anymore. 

You pinch the bridge of your nose as an uneasiness settles into the pit of your stomach. “What am I supposed to do, Harry? I-I don’t even know if it was him! I feel crazy! I feel insane! I-I feel insane for the way my brain is slowly making images of him doing this to me! How could—he didn’t,” you start pacing your backyard, wet grass tickling your feet, “How could he have done this to me?” You silently beg him for an answer. 

You weep silently as he asks, “You remember?” 

You silently groan and wipe your tears away in a rush. 

“I don’t know what I remember! I-I don’t know what’s real or what’s fake. I just know that you need to stop calling me,” you demand as you quickly end the call and sit down on your patio chair. Trying to relax your heart rate as the ugly images rush in your brain. 

You clench your eyes tightly together, your hands grasping at the roots of your hair, and you let out a little whimper. 

Stop crying. You deserved it. 

You slowly start to work on your breathing, your entire body shaking with feelings of anxiety and desperation, and you lean back onto the chair. Letting yourself inhale deeply and calmly. Your eyes are still closed as you try to relax. 

“Y/N?”

Asher’s voice startles you which makes you flinch, which causes you to jump in the chair, your hands gripping onto the arm rests in a panic, and gasping deeply. Your eyes go wide in fright and you see Asher standing in front of you in only his pajama pants. His blonde hair is wet and messy. 

“Hey, it’s just me.” He coos at you, leaning down to watch you, his cold hands covering your own, and you try not to snatch them back. 

He notices your hesitation and he frowns. 

“Why are you outside?” His voice suddenly turned cold. 

“I just needed some fresh air,” you lie as you try to speak clearly and without any shakiness. 

Because your mind won’t stop trying to tell you about what happened. 

His eyebrows furr and his lips go tight. 

“You need to come inside before you catch a cold,” he demands. His hand tightens around your wrist and he basically tugs you onto your feet and drag you inside. 

You yelp loudly, “Asher, what are you doing? Let go of me!” 

He loves you. He wouldn’t hurt you. Would he? 

He already did. 

His hand only grips tighter around you as he drags you into the kitchen. 

The only place you had been avoiding since the accident. Your heart rate immediately goes sky high, confusion runs through you, and you beg, “Asher.. wh-what are you doing? Let me go, please.” 

Fear runs through your body when he shoves you into the kitchen stool and he stands in front of you. 

“Since when do you remember?” 

Your mouth goes dry as your eyes go wide, “Remember what?” 

He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest, and his dark eyes turn to you. “Let’s just stop this game where you pretend you don’t remember what I did to you and why I did it to you.” 

“I…I don’t—I don’t know…” 

You look down to try to avoid his hard stare and start fumbling with your fingers. A feeling of uneasiness surrounds you. 

His hand slams onto the countertop, the loud bang making you jump, and tears fill your eyes. Because you’re terrified. Your lip quivers in fright. 

“Stop fucking lying to me!! You’ve been lying to me for years! Saying you and Harry are over! That-that nothing was going on between you guys! That it was over! It was never fucking over!! You kept fucking him behind my back and I want to know why!” 

His hands grip your arms tightly, tears falling down your cheeks as you try to avoid his eyes, and he grabs your chin in his hand. 

“Stop fucking crying and tell me why you kept fucking him!!” He roars at you as angry tears run down his face, chest heaving in rage, and he looks terrifying. 

You cry into his palm, “I-I d-don't know why! It-it just happened, I s-swear!! Please, Asher! Please believe me! It only h-happened a couple times and—-“ you whine as his grip tightens around your chin and pain shoots all over your body from it. 

“So, who’s the father?” 

What? 

His question makes your tears halt, you suck in a deep breath, and your hands immediately go into his wrist to try and pull him off of you. Your eyes staring into his own in shock, “What are you t-talking about?!” 

Father? 

He shoves you off his palm and you steady yourself in the chair again, watching him, and trying to stop more tears from falling. He walks around the kitchen, shaking his head, and he lets out a chuckle in disbelief. 

“Asher!” You cry out, standing up this time even though you are shaking from head to toe, and you feel completely afraid of him. You have to know what he meant. 

“What are you talking about?!” 

He turns to look down at you, his eyes roaming your body, and he stops at your belly. You flinch under his attention, wrapping your arms around yourself as if you’re trying to protect your body from him, and he moves closer to you. 

“I told the nurse from the hospital that I’m your fiancée and she told me that you’re pregnant.” You gasp loudly, covering your mouth as sobs break through you, “The only reason why they told me was because they were about to tell you after they checked your blood work again to make sure, but I begged them not to say anything. Saying something about how it would be too much for you too soon.” He rolls his eyes at your sobs and continues, “I had to practically beg on my knees for them not to tell you, but you were beaten up so bad that they felt bad for you.” 

He leans down to look into your eyes as you try to back away. 

“Little did they know it was me who did it to you,” he whispers, “but then I found out you’re pregnant. And I admit.. I did feel a little bit guilty. But then I felt pissed. Because I don’t even know if the baby is mine. Do you?” 

You whimper as he gets closer to you, your arms wrapping tighter around your body, and you look down to your feet.  

“You did this to me,” you sob out in a whisper, finally admitting it out loud, and you feel your shoulders start to shake. 

He suddenly grabs your neck and in an instant without even hesitation, you react by slapping his face hard. The loud smack startles him as an angry groan rages out of his chest and you instantly retract backwards, fumbling and tripping on your feet to the floor. 

Why would you hit the man who loves you?

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Don’t touch me, I’m sorry! Please don’t hit me!” The words fly out of your mouth at a rapid speed as you quickly scatter into the corner of the room into a ball, trying to shield yourself from him with your arms, and your breathing picks up instantly. 

Asher’s quick steps allow him to reach you in an instant, his big hands swallow your wrist, and he pulls you to your feet. You stumble into his embrace as he holds you tightly against his body. 

His free hand tugs into your hair, pulling at it by the roots and he laughs when you let out a pained whine, and tears spring out in the corner of your eyes, and you’re frozen in his hold. 

He’s pulling your hair down so that you’re looking up at him, his tight hold doesn’t let you move an inch, and his white teeth are covered in his own blood from the hard hit you gave him. 

“Are you scared of me?” He questions as he slowly caresses your face. 

You let out a low whimper as you watch him, scared to even breathe. 

“Why would I ever hit you? You’re my fiancé and I love you,” his voice is steady and cynical. You gulp down the lump in your throat as your lips quiver. 

Your body is aching already from his tight hold and you wish you were braver. 

“I would never hurt you again. Don’t you trust me?” he whispers into your neck as he starts kissing down your jaw. You shiver at his touch and don’t move. 

“Isn’t that right? I would never hurt you again. I’m sorry I ever touched you like I did before. I was only upset. You forgive me, right?,” he whispers into your mouth as his lips hover over yours and he slowly kisses you. Fear is etched into every single fiber of your body and you don’t close your eyes as you watch him kiss your lips. 

You let out a shaky breath as you move your lips against his as you try and think of what to do. How would you even get out of this situation? 

He’s taller than you. He’s stronger and faster than you’ll ever be. You don’t think you’d be able to make it far. You don’t think you’d make it out the door without him catching you. 

“And now you’re carrying my baby. I’m not ever going to hurt you again,” he whispers into your mouth as you cry silently. 

What are you going to do now?

Harry couldn’t live with you. 

He couldn’t eat. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t fucking think without you. 

He couldn’t even fucking breathe without you. 

His chest hurt from your absence in his life and he was trying so fucking hard to help you. But you wouldn’t let him in. 

He tried calling, he tried texting, he tried staying outside of your house to get you to talk to him, but you just wouldn’t. He didn’t want to force you to remember and he didn’t want to physically take you away from your home. 

He couldn’t do that to you. But he was terrified every single second of the day. He didn’t know what to do. 

He tried talking to your family and seeing if they had spoken to you or seen you, but they said they hadn’t. They said you messaged them every day, but only simple worlds that you were okay and that you were recovering. And that you were tired and needed to be alone. 

It was killing Harry. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. 

He was torn about what to do. Because he didn’t know what the fuck to do. How was he supposed to just take you away from your home? It would be basically kidnapping. 

But he was scared that Asher was going to hurt you again. How was he supposed to know if he didn’t already? 

He just wanted you to be okay. He just needed to see you. He just wanted to be with you. 

He’d protect you. He’d love you. He’d keep you safe. 

If only you’d let him. 

And now you weren’t even speaking to him. You kept telling him to leave you alone and that everything that had happened between you two was a mistake. 

How was he supposed to believe that? You are the love of his life. 

He couldn’t give two fucks about Vivian and Asher. 

Matter of fact, he called off his engagement with Vivian the second he got home from the hospital and she was out of his home the next day. She said she knew it was too good to be true and apparently fucked off to Paris. 

Harry couldn’t bring himself to care because he was too worried about you. And he knew what he was doing wasn’t healthy. But what else is he supposed to do? 

Kidnap you? 

Take you away from your home and keep you in his? 

Keep you in his home until you remember what Asher did to you? And make you leave him? 

Maybe he should. 

Harry’s eyes started burning as tears filled the brim of his eyes and he stumbles out a loud, frustrated sigh, because he’s so tired. He’s so fucking tired of crying! 

He’s so upset at himself for not doing anything. He’s pissed off at the world. He’s pissed at himself. He’s pissed off at Asher for ever touching you and he’s pissed off at your brain for making you forget. 

He wants to kill Asher. He wants to beat him to a pulp. He wants to make him hurt the way you hurt. 

But how is he supposed to do that when you still believe he’s the golden boy you used to love? 

Harry knows he’s not supposed to call you. He knows you probably won’t answer. You never do. Well, usually. But he misses your voice. He needs to hear your voice. He begs god that you remember and that you ask him to come for you. Please. He needs this. 

He clicks on the first contact in his favorites list and his breathing almost hitches when he hears your voice. 

“You have to stop calling me,” he hears your sweet voice whisper into the phone. His heart tightens in his chest. 

He sniffles as he feels his lips quiver and he frowns, “Sun…” 

“Harry. I’ve told you to stop calling me. You.. you can’t call me anymore. Whatever we had, it’s done. It-it’s over.” 

He can hear your strangled breathing on the other side of the phone. His heart is thumping rapidly at your words. He pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Just please tell me why you’re still there! He hurt you! He did this to you. Why don’t you believe me?!” He yells into the phone trying not to get too upset. But he feels so much pain right now. He feels devastated. He just needs you to believe him. Why don’t you believe him? 

He clutches his own chest as if he’s trying to console his own heart from the pain he’s feeling. 

“What am I supposed to do, Harry? I-I don’t even know if it was him! I feel crazy! I feel insane! I-I feel insane for the way my brain is slowly making images of him doing this to me! How could—he didn’t.. How could he have done this to me?” 

Harry listens to your rapid words and he aches for you. All he wants to do is take away everything you’re feeling. He wants to take away all your pain. 

He begs god to give it to him instead. He can handle it. He can take it.

You can’t. He doesn’t know if he can save you from this. He wants to save you. And then it clicks. 

He silently gasps when your words click in his own brain. 

“You remember?” 

He hears you groan into the phone before you speak again, “I don’t know what I remember! I-I don’t know what’s real or what’s fake. I just know that you need to stop calling me.” 

Then, the line goes dead. 

Harry stares at the phone in shock. His mind reels a million thoughts every second. What should he do? 

He doesn’t even think before he shoves on some shoes and goes into his Range Rover. 

He’s going to save you. Even if it kills him. He’s going to take you away from Asher. 

And he hopes you forgive him for not coming sooner.