Endgame III
A/N: Long awaited final part of Endgame!! Thanks to everyone who read it all and waited ages (oops). I really enjoyed going back to the characters for this final scene, hope you do too <3
Part 1 / 2 /
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There’s a pit of dread that sits in my stomach, it’s made a home of it there all of Sunday while I work on Angels, and into Monday. It’s 8:30am sharp and I’m sat in the meeting room, nervous as fuck about this meeting with Mr. O’Neil. I’m scared that he hates me because I reacted too emotionally on Friday sending the manuscript back to him. I’m worried he’s going to find my comments on his new chapters worthless. And most of all, because I know it won’t go well, I’m scared about the way he’s going to react to the cover designs.
I don’t expect him to look so…giddy when he arrives 15 minutes later. He looks sharp in a crisp black button up and black slacks. I check my watch again, Harry was officially late which was unusual of him. I guess this was going to be a one-woman show until then.
“Mr. O’Neil,” I shake his hand. “Thanks for swinging by today.”
“Thank you,” he grips my hand tight. “You’re a spark Ms. Y/L/N.”
“It’s just Y/N,” I sit down once he finally lets go of my hand. “Now, I’m hoping those files in your hand are the last chapters?”
“They are,” he says slowly. “I brought them myself so they wouldn’t be sent back.”
My smile drops, “Ahm yeah about that, I-“
“It was the punch I needed,” he grins. He plonks down in the chair and begins pulling out more files from his bag. “Miriam has always treated me delicately, stern woman but always so delicate. You were the spark I needed, those chapters showed back up at my flat and you wouldn’t believe I wanted to chuck them across the room first--well, I did chuck them. Then I picked them all up because I’m afraid of my girlfriend. Then I laughed for five minutes solid, because nobody has slapped me like that without touching my face in a long time.”
“I…” didn’t know what to say. I was expecting major conflict today but this version of him is pumped and creative as he shows me his last chapters, takes in my feedback, and disagrees with me here and there. We flow well, that is until about an hour later. We’d done the copy edits live on the last two chapters together and he was going to take it back to fix everything Miriam and I had circled and underlined. But now it was time to reveal the cover options.
I glance miserably outside the glass room, but Harry is nowhere in sight. Leave it up to him to leave me presenting his shite.
“So…these are some of the options we have so far,” I flip over the mock-ups like I’m reading his tarot. From the look on his face, he hates what the future has in store. “They’re just some-
“No. No. These are shite. Steaming pile of shite, Y/N what is this?”
“Well,” I rack my brain for something. Anything. “We were trying for a modern and trendy cover as an option-“
“I hate all of them, why the fuck is this neon? It’s gonna blind my reader before they can even read my book! Is my book that bad?”
“No of course-“
“So why do the covers make my book look like something I’d wipe my arse with?” He stands in his chair, quickly collecting all the mockups. “These are insulting.”
“Right, okay well we’ve still got time to work on more!”
“I know we do,” he looks me in the eye and it’s intimidating, any traces of the happy-go-lucky O’Neil is gone. “But even presenting these to me is a fucking insult. I know you’ve read my book cover to cover so what’s the meaning of this?”
Ugh, it would be so easy to throw Harry under the bus. Shift the blame, say I told you so. But that wasn’t how I worked, I never wanted to create that kind of dynamic in the workplace.
“Look, Mr. O’Neil…I do sincerely apologize. If I’m honest with you, I don’t think they’re right either. But you know the book business is also now a marketing business and readers do judge a book by its cover. Our department was just trying to make something trendy, but I see very clearly now we should stick to an authentic cover that will show someone the heart of the book.”
He nods along to what I’m saying, and when I’m done he give me a once-over. “I like you kid, you know how to kiss up too.”
“I’m good at my job,” I say before I realize the weight of those words-I was good at my job and a man like Harry Styles wasn’t going to undermine the hard work I do like this. “I meet with you next Friday with your finished edits right? I’ll have new mock-ups then.”
“That’s grand,” he calmy folds over the neon cover, reopens it and tears it in two. I watch with a removed shock. “This is awful, worst of the bunch. Eh, I don’t hate the direction…just tone down those fucking colours.”
“Will do Mr. O’Neil.”
“And I want to meet this Friday for the covers and this fancy marketing bullshite. This book is my baby, I want to make sure it looks beautiful.”
I agree, mentally making a note to make room in my schedule. I shake his hand again and walk him through the office to the lift. He tells me again we work well together, and I remind him that I’ll see him next week.
Then I walk back to the meeting room, kick my heels off, and melt into my seat. What a fucking morning.
“Y/N?” I don’t know if I dozed off but my name startles me out of position. I blink the tiredness away and see a nightmare: Harry in the flesh way after the meeting’s done. “How did the meeting go?”
“What?” I look at the time, almost 20 minutes since I saw O’Neil out. I feel the familiar rage flare up inside me. “Are you asking me how the meeting went? The meeting you were supposed to attend?”
“I was supposed to be there?” Harry steps into the room. Almost sensing my impending explosion, he closes the door behind him. “I wasn’t informed.”
I laugh but nothing is funny. “You weren’t informed? So let me get this straight: we work on this together, we’re told by our director we’re on this together. And our client comes in and you didn’t think to attend? Did I have to personally email you to attend? Send you an email, a notification, maybe even an RSVP?”
“Hold on,” Harry holds his hands out as I stalk closer to him. He glances outside and it catches my attention, a couple of our colleagues stare at the entertainment. I move to the centre console and black out the windows.
“I’m holding on, what genius excuse are you coming up with?”
“No Y/N, I honestly didn’t know. I rarely attend the editing meetings, unless I’m told directly. I attend marketing meetings and-“
“You knew we were presenting the stupid mockups in today’s meeting right? Isn’t that marketing?”
“Right,” he doesn’t meet my eye. “I guess I could have came-“
“Yeah you guess?” I’m back to cornering him, my rage rearing its ugly face. “You gave me the worst covers ever, even though I asked and begged you to change them! Because you were too fucking stubborn to read the damn book or listen to anyone but yourself! And you left me all alone to present the covers I knew he would hate! And guess what? He hated them! And if I was any worse at my job, he would have eaten me for breakfast! All because you wouldn’t bloody listen to me!”
“I listened,” he crosses his toned arms. “I read through your notes and I tried! And you hated what your own notes produced!”
“Oh my god the notes?” I walk away from him, I was shaking. I take hold of the cover ripped in half and throw it by his feet. “You clearly don’t read shit if you’re saying this hideous cover was from my notes! I do my job well, and whatever this thing is, isn’t a product of my notes! It’s a product of your shitty work! And that’s exactly how O’Neil felt about it!”
He stares at the two pieces in front of him. And I don’t know how he’s still so calm, but he looks back at me with a blank face. “I’ll make new ones if he didn’t like them. I can call him personally if you want. It’s not that big of a deal at this stage!”
“Oh my god,” I whisper to the table, balancing on my clenched fists. I had moved past rage, past frustration, and into ballistic. He just didn’t get it: he was undermining my work with a client while I was trying to make a good impression for upcoming promotions, even stripped back he was a man undermining my skills as a woman, making me look like a fool while I presented his shitty work. He just didn’t get it.
“Just leave,” I say to the table because I couldn’t even look at him. “I can’t even look at you Harry just get the fuck out.”
The door opens, he hesitates, and then leaves, the door slams behind him. Only then do I go back to my seat, slide down under the table, and let the tears run freely.
This meeting, the pressure of this client, dealing with Harry and his brick wall…it was a lot but nothing I couldn’t handle. But I think seeing my ex on Saturday, reliving my past and realizing Harry giving me a hard time was an outcome of my toxic relationship. That a relationship I ended five years ago was interfering with my career today. That all men were the same…It got to me, and it just broke me.
***
I don’t plan on seeing let alone talking to Harry for the rest of the day but as I leave the office after staying later than I needed to, the lift doors open to him and him alone. He makes nervous eye contact with me, and it takes me back a little. That he was nervous seeing me. Usually he didn’t give a fuck no matter what happened between us, even bordering on snobbish and cocky.
The silence is a large presence in the small space. Since seeing him this morning, I’d cried under the table and then reapplied my makeup in the bathroom. I downed another coffee and got started on another one of my manuscripts. I could work hard as much as I cried hard.
“Y/N I’m-“
The door opening interrupts Harry which makes it ten times more awkward when someone from the third floor gets on and stands in between us. They must notice the tension because they step forward away from us, ready to bolt as soon as the doors open.
When they do, I hustle off but Harry and his damn long legs catch up. “Wait, I need to apologize.”
I glare at him but lead him out the door to our building courtyard. “Fine. Talk.”
“I am genuinely sorry. I can’t believe I let all that happen, and I don’t know why I let it get that far for something I…”
“What are you apologizing for exactly?” I ask. He was rambling, and some part of me understood what he was apologizing for, knowing what I knew from Saturday. But I wanted him to say it.
He hangs his head, “A lot. I’m sorry I didn’t have your back. I let…other things cloud my professional opinions and I didn’t support you when I should have.”
For a guy who worked with pictures all day, he wasn’t too bad with his words. But I needed more. “What ‘other things’?”
He looks at me with puppy eyes, begging me not to go there. But I wanted to, I needed to. I raise an eyebrow, he could talk.
“The past.”
“You mean other people’s opinions?” I demand clarity.
“I-sure. Yeah, just holding onto what happened in the past and I know it shouldn’t even matter anymore. We’re both adults, well you’ve been acting like one. I’ve been clinging onto the past and I know I should let it go. Even though it was…painful, I know I should put it to rest now. You could have thrown me under the bus and called me to defend my own covers but you handled it. I…thank you. And if I haven’t already said it I’m sorry.”
I don’t exactly follow him but I let my guard down a little. He didn’t need to know my past was clinging onto me, but if he could let go, maybe it would shed itself slowly.
“You owe me so hard,” I say. “Like, the weight of what you owe me indebts you for life.”
“A bit harsh,” he begins to argue but one look at my face and he puts his hands up. “Whatever you say.”
“Great, glad we’ve sorted this.” I move to shake his hand in a silly gesture of good faith. “Apology accepted by the way; thank you.”
“Great, you drive a hard bargain but...nice doing business,” he clasps my hand in his and-oh.
A warm tingle moves through my body and when I make eye contact I can’t look away. I don’t know what was happening, but I was in zero gravity and the only thing keeping me moored was the strong hand that held mine.
He drops our hands first, like he was burned. He looks down, staring at it. I’m embarrassed, and confused, so I do what I do best-confront it head on. “What the hell was that?”
The only way to describe Harry’s expression is wistful. “That wasn’t just me.”
“I think we just like, altered time and space by getting along.” I laugh it off.
“Who knew we were so powerful together,” he grins and I’m fucking floored by how much I wanted to kiss the grin off his face. I take a shaky breath in.
“Fuck,” I take another breath. “We could run this place.”
“Oh that reminds me,” he digs into his pocket for his phone and taps away until he finds what he’s looking for. “I want to change the font but I have a design to show you.”
He turns the phone towards me and I immediately love it. A warm semi-circle goes from orange to golden towards its edges, emitting a transparent glow over most of the cover. A faint moon is present on the back, and the background is an off-white.
“And the shape will actually be raised, either that or the font will be…still workshopping it but,” he scratches his head. “I re-read your notes. You don’t have the neatest writing so I might have…missed a few words. The way you write moon looks kind of like neon?”
My jaw drops, “An apology, a re-read, admitting to being wrong, and a new design?”
“Don’t get used to it,” he nudges me with his shoulder and I ignore the inner waves crashing against my beating heart. “Anyway I gotta go, meeting some friends but I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow?”
I wave goodbye and walk towards my station. What the hell was happening.
***
The office is a lot calmer now that Harry and I have called a truce. And he surprises me with this new side of him. He can still be stubborn, and a bit stuck up. But he’s more agreeable and willing to collaborate with me. And when he turns his dimpled smile at me, I can’t help but beam back. We made a bloody good team.
I sit in the conference room 8:30 sharp on Friday. I put in some more effort this morning, feeling good about everything. Harry comes in just minutes before Mr. O’Neil but we settle down after getting him a tea.
“This is the ‘marketing department’ huh?” Mr. O’Neil winks at me when Harry hands him the new cover. His eyes roam over the whole thing and I hold my breath until I hear him say it: “It’s fucking fantastic.”
“There’s nothing you want to fix?” Harry asks for feedback as I grin from ear to ear.
“My name could be bigger, you know I wrote the book.” He taps at it. “But this is it, you two.”
We chat a bit more about the final version of the book, Harry pretends to know what’s going on since he’s never read the full thing. And finally, Mr. O’Neil calls an end to the meeting to continue working on his manuscript. I walk him to the lift. When I get back to the room, Harry’s organizing the papers that had traveled across the desk.
“We did it!” I shout after I close the door. I walk towards him with both hands raised high. “He loved the cover and the manuscript is on track!”
Harry returns my high-five, but instead of the quick touch, he slips his fingers in between mine and lowers them to our sides. The mood shifts from joyous to…dangerous.
“Who would have thought,” he says to me quietly. “We make a good team.”
I keep the eye contact otherwise I would be making eyes with his lips. And I didn’t want him to know how curious I was to how that would feel. “Who knew respect was a two way street.”
“It…” he looks down at my mouth. “It is. I’m glad I left our disrespect in the past.”
“Right,” I’m barely paying attention as he moves closer to me. But then his words hits, “wait, our disrespect in the past?”
I disentangle myself so quickly he has to balance himself on the table so he doesn’t pitch forward. He blinks away the desire, leaving a puzzled look. “I’m joking…kind of. I mean, it did feel a bit disrespected but we were kids so like I said the other day I’m glad I let it go.”
“I don’t get it,” I feel an oncoming storm, and it kicks my anxiety up a notch. “I don’t get what you just said.”
“I’m just talking about that party it’s-“ he chuckles. “It’s not a big deal Y/N. Anymore. We’re both different people now right?”
“What party?” I demand.
Realizing I had actually known Harry from my first day of uni was one thing, but I didn’t remember him anywhere else. If there was a party where something happened…something that caused him to misjudge me…I needed to know.
“Like, around the end of our second year? Spring. Jared and Dru had this huge year end party? And, this is embarrassing. I don’t care anymore seriously. But Dru was being my wingman, he came up to you to tell you that-jeez saying this is more embarrassing than I thought-“
“Just say it!” I urge, feeling sick. I knew this party. It was the night my whole life changed for the worse but I don’t remember this version of events. I needed to hear this.
“Okay, so I had this massive crush on you? From that first day. When…y’know behind the shed.” Harry chuckles. “Anyway I was too nervous to ever actually ask you out I’m sure you caught me staring at you a lot. All my friends knew how much I liked you and they were sick of hearing about it. So, well Dru was convinced you weren’t my type but he agreed to check you out and ask if you wanted to give me your number?”
I listen numbly as he tells me his version of events. That Dru asked me about his flatmate Harry who had a crush on me, if I would give him my number. How I’d looked at him sweetly and then kissed Dru. My jaw is on the floor but I can’t stop him from talking.
“And it’s whatever now but it felt cruel, I was so sure you were this one person and you ended up just making out with my best friend. And…dating him. And don’t get me wrong, it was your prerogative I didn’t own you or something just because I liked you first but…when you’re 20 everything is just more personal right? Hey, are you alright?”
I wasn’t alright. My head was spinning and yet it was cataloguing everything Harry said against my own memories. And when I think harder, I pin him down; he was the one staring at us when Dru came up to me. Of course he was staring so intensely, he wanted to know if I liked him and Dru manipulated both of us. He fucked us both up.
“That’s not what happened,” I croak. “Harry you have to know I-“
“It doesn’t matter,” he laughs it off but I see the hurt in his eyes. I unknowingly hurt him, left a deep scar, because Dru had manipulated us both. Fuck Dru.
“No Harry listen, Dru is a fucking liar-“
“Okay I don’t want to shit-talk Dru.” Harry interrupts. “He’s a friend, I know you ended up dating him and breaking up but he’s still my fri-“
“Would a friend date the girl you had a massive crush on? If you were in that position, doing that for Dru? Wouldn’t you have pushed me away and feel sorry for Dru that he had to see that?”
“Yeah but Dru and I are different-“
“No! No, Dru is different. He’s not decent. Harry I’m telling you that’s not what happened on my end at the party!”
“You were probably too drunk,” Harry denies my truth. “Anyway it’s not a big deal!”
“I wasn’t drunk. I remember everything!” I insist.
“So you remember seeing me there waiting, and still kissing Dru?” He pauses and this is how I know he was still not quite over it.
“Yes, no-just listen. Dru manipulated both of us-“
“Do you remember it or not?” Harry asks again, his eyes blazing with hurt.
I touch his arm, try to get him to calm down and understand even though feeling gaslit again was driving me crazy, “Harry, Dru isn’t who you think he is.”
Harry shuts down but I try again. “Dru used both of us,”
He grabs my arm so suddenly, jerking me away so my hand falls off. He keep it gripped as he says, “Dru’s my friend, just because you had a shitty relationship doesn’t mean you can turn me against him.”
“I’m not-” I begin to panic as his grip tightens. “Oh my god, Harry please just—let go. Harry let go of me!”
I don’t realize how loud I shout, but the moment makes me feel trapped and small like I had time traveled five years back. The silence echoes my frightened emotions in the spacious room and Harry steps back, almost shocked by his reaction. He looks at where he’d grabbed me, ashamed and scared.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just got…”
“Is everything okay here?” I hear our director say as the door opens. “I heard a shout…what’s going on?”
“Sorry, we got carried away.” Harry plasters on a quick smile. I arrange my face into one too, turning to face her. We lie about celebrating too loudly, she relaxes and congratulates us on the small success before closing the door behind her once more.
“Y/N,” he chokes. “I’m sorry.”
I’m shaking so hard I can’t look at him, I was so fucking weak like this. He comes closer but I shrink away.
We stand in our aftermath in silence, I don’t know what he looks like, I can’t take my eyes off the stray red thumbtack on the carpet. If I break my focus from it, I was going to fall apart. I couldn’t freak out, not here.
Finally, I get through breathing normally, and my eyes dry up. I feel okay enough to look up. Harry’s already looking at me, his jaw set and his hands curled into fists. For a second, I think it’s because of me but when our eyes meet his gaze softens, his fingers uncurl and flex at his side.
“Did he hurt you?” He asks. When I don’t answer he takes a tentative step towards me. “Y/N. Did he hurt you?”
I swallow, my throat suddenly feels parched. “My scars aren’t on the outside, he knew better than that.”
His throat bobs up and down, his face hardening into something fearsome. I always thought Harry gave me his worst side because he had some issues with me, but seeing him look like this, I’m glad I never had this directed towards me. “Dru is…”
“Dru is a fucking narcissist,” I finally say and it’s so freeing. Carrying this around was so heavy, finally saying my truth out loud even if it’s to his friend feel good.
“He fucks people up Harry, including you-wait let me finish.” I hold out my hand when he tries to interrupt. “I only remembered you last Saturday, when you helped me through…my attack. It triggered the memory from our first day--you have to know I used to get so confused and lethargic after an anxiety attack, so I never remembered who you were. I didn’t even see your face! I looked for you a few weeks later because I remembered your jersey number but it was someone else-“
“I was kicked off the team for showing up drunk…” Harry pauses, seeming to process something but he doesn’t voice it so I take it as my cue to continue.
“I actually didn’t remember you at all from uni. I guess because I didn’t remember you from that first day, you never made a first impression on me.” I take a breath. “And as for that party, that awful party. That’s not what happened. When Dru came up to me, he told me he had a bet with his mates-you guys, that a ‘girl like me’ wouldn’t kiss him. So I thought I was helping him by proving to his mates that a girl like me might.”
With the revelation, Harry folds into the chair behind him, processing everything I’m saying. And I continue, telling him what happened that night from my end. I don’t tell him how Dru slowly began to gaslight me, manipulate and isolate me, toy with my feelings. I don’t want to tell him how much he really broke me, I just tell him what he needs to know.
Nobody speaks for a moment, and then several moments pass. He gets up in a rush, running his fingers through his hair. It had grown in the two weeks since he’d cut it and it grows volume as he runs through it again.
“He tried to convince me you were-” he cuts off. “You were high maintenance, you just wanted attention. He told me I didn’t want someone-I didn’t want endgame at 18 but…” he looks at me, crushed. A million thoughts must flicker through his mind as he looks at me for a loaded minute. “I did.”
My words are caught in my throat as I understand how he had felt. How fucking different both our lives could have gone if he was the one to approach me that night at the party.
Before I can say anything he grabs his phone and checks it, he grabs all his things in a frenzy and pauses. “I’m going to fix this Y/N, I’m gonna make it right.”
“Wait what? Harry!” I try to call him back but he moves past me. I rush to move around him, stopping him with a hand to his chest. “Harry don’t do anything crazy. C’mon, let’s just talk.”
“Y/N, there are so many times......” his jaw flexes as he swallows his words.
His hand reaches out to me but they freeze in mid-air before they reach my face. He clenches them, dropping like dead weight to his side. I almost grab them, place them where they would have gone if he had the courage to carry the action out. But he just look at me, a painful faraway look on his face. “I’m sorry.”
His long legs carry him to the door before I can speak another word. I reach for the centre console that make the windows transparent, but he’s out of view by the time I do. I rush out of the room and see him in the doorway of our director’s office. Before I can call his name again, he’s shot off and our director walks out behind him. She notices me, “Y/N. Bring me your notes on Angels--if you’re free right now. Let’s go over it while we still have the momentum.”
God the last thing I can think of doing right now is work but I have nowhere to go, no excuse to give. I get back to the desk and pick up my notes and my laptop, I breathe in and think of all my fragmented pieces reigning back into my chest. I breathe out all the confusion, I put it to the side. Then I go two doors down and present my progress like everything was fucking okay.
***
Rowan’s shows up with wine on Saturday afternoon. I’d been ignoring her calls all of Friday and Saturday because I didn’t know how to break it to her. There was so much I had to hold back from her because I’d never told her the truth about Dru. And it scared me when I thought about coming clean.
“You’re screening my calls now?” She asks, her pup in hand. She lets him down and he shoots through my flat, familiar with it from all the times I dog-sit.
“I’ve just be-I’ve been-I-” I burst out crying before I can finish that sentence. She wraps herself around me and holds me tight and I hate myself for never telling her the whole truth. She holds me until my sobs turn into sniffles.
“Got it all out?” She asks when she pulls away.
“Probably not,” I say miserably. “But come in, sorry for being a shitty friend.”
“Shut up,” she makes herself at home. Unloading the tote from her shoulder that’s filled with food. “I’m going to make you lunch and you’re going to tell me everything about Dru and Harry.”
“What?” I sit on a stool at the bar. “How do you know this is about-“
“I’m with Jared now? I have an ear to the ground!” I look at her shocked. Her and Jared were together? She answers as if she could read my mind. “Yes! Can you believe it? He asked me the morning after, if I wanted to have a serious go at all this. I was like, it took you long enough! But…anyway this isn’t about me. Tell me what happened.”
“No you tell me,” I lean over the countertop. “Did Jared say something? What happened?”
“Okay,” she puts down her ingredients and I take the moment to pick her pup up before he scratches a hole in my jeans. “So I go over to Jared’s on Friday and the house looks like it went through the war. Not like, physically. Well there were things everywhere, but the atmosphere was so dead quiet. Jared takes me to the room and we pass by Harry in the hall. Jared’s like, where are you heading are you alright? And Harry’s all like, I need to get out of here-“
“Harry was there?”
“Yeah he lives in their spare attic bedroom?” She surprises me with the information like I should have already known that. “So I ask Jared what happened when we go and he said Harry came back from work early on Friday. And y’know Jared has odd hours so he was home. And he said Harry was just like a maniac. Jared tried to talk to him but it was like he was going to kill Dru and nobody could talk him out of it. And Jared knew it was serious, because even though they’ve drifted a lot since uni Harry still acted like Dru was his best mate. Jared said…”
Rowan trails off, looking at me curiously. She had this way of telling stories that jumped from one place to another but I couldn’t handle the suspense. I nearly shout, “What?”
“Well Jared said Dru has this way of getting underneath people. He knew how they ticked and he used that against people sometimes. Apparently they used to fight a lot because of that until Jared really put his foot down…Y/N, did he do that to you? Fuck you up like that? Jared said he tried to talk to Dru once when you two were dating but Dru like, got up in his face and nearly bit his head off. He always felt like that’s why Dru and you broke up because that was like the day before you two broke up. Anyway, you never said anything but…did he?”
I swallow. I guess this was it.
Through a brave face, and then a crumbling snotty one, I tell Rowan everything. Everything Dru did, and everything he didn’t technically do. At some point she comes around to sit beside me, holding my hand, my shoulder, and finally pulling me in to hold me while I blubber about how hard it had been.
“I’m so sorry,” Rowan says gently once I quiet down. “Y/N...why did you keep all this to yourself?”
“I just-” I wipe my nose with my sleeve, not caring at this point how disgusting that was. “He took everything away from me, even my identity. I thought if I didn’t tell anybody, nobody had to know how little he reduced me down to. If I didn’t say it aloud, maybe it was only in my head.”
“Oh love,” Rowan’s bottom lip quivers.
“Don’t you dare cry or I’m going to find a whole new waterfall of my own.”
“I won’t!” Rowan laughs but tears trail silently down her face. “That piece of shite. And I...oh god and I always told you to get over it. No wonder you...”
“I always thought it was curious,” Rowan stares off into space when I only shrug. “I only remember Harry from uni because I always found him looking at you, no matter what room we were in, how many people were in there I was always like, this bloke must really like my mate an awful lot because he’s always looking! That or he was a creep. But when you started dating he-who-must-not-be-named, I never looked into it.”
“I didn’t remember him,” I tell her. “He was actually the footballer that helped me my first day. I didn’t realize until that party last weekend.”
“Shut up!” Rowan looks shocked. “That’s so cute.”
“Is it?” I hesitate, realizing Rowan still hadn’t finished her story. “Finish your story, about Dru and Harry.”
“Oh yeah,” Rowan glances to the other side of the kitchen. “I should get back to lunch too.”
She heads around, chopping the vegetables and finishes telling me what happened.
Harry:
I feel fucking on fire, I can’t sit still and the more I move the more I want to punch the living shite out of Dru.
“Just, hold on!” Jared tries to stop me for the fifth time. “What’s this all about?”
“Dru’s fucking-he’s-he’s dead!” I roar. “How did I not see it earlier Jared? That little weasel got in between me and everything I ever loved!”
“What? Har, I know he’s a dick but what did he do?”
“Everything!” I shout. “He’s the reason I showed up drunk to football, he got me kicked off the team! So she never found me! And that internship in first year, he convinced me to be young and free and turn it down! He-Jared he lied to me about her! He knew how I felt and he took her, he fucked her up! He fucked her up!”
“Wait, who is this about-” Jared tries to dig deeper but I push past him when I hear the door open. Jared’s barely taken his jacket off when I have him pushed against the wall, my arm pressed against his throat.
“Harry, mate, what’s-”
“You’re sick, you’re fucking sick for what you’ve done.” I let him go, and he gets a moment to glance from me to his brother before my fist connects with his face.
“What the fuck!” He falls to the floor, clutching his face. “What the fuck’s wrong with you!”
“You lied!” I push him back up. “You lied through your fucking teeth about everything!”
He shoves me in the chest and the narrow hallway catches me on the opposite wall. That only pumps me, I shove him back and with no more words between us we’re a tornado of fists, one to my face, another to his abdomen, his head in a lock, Jared trying to break us apart and gets clipped in the face by his brother.
By the time I have him laying flat on his back, I deliver another fist to his face, but Dru spits blood up at me and laughs. He has the fucking nerve to laugh.
“It’s got to be about a girl,” his voice is hoarse, his breath comes out shaky. “It’s about her isn’t it?”
I lift him by his shirt and crash him back down onto the floor. I vaguely hear Jared, his hand catching my fist before it hits Dru again. I get one more punch with my other hand but Jared is pulling me away from Dru’s defeated form on the ground, sitting my ass on the staircase. But Dru’s sick enough to still have an amused smile on his face.
Everywhere hurts, but I can’t even focus on my own pain when I still want to cause Dru more. Jared holds me back like he knows. Dru props himself slowly on his elbows, shaking his head.
“Did you two talk? Did she finally give you that number Styles? What did she say about me? I’m a monster, I fucked her up? She’s a manipulative bitch-”
“Shut the fuck up-” I jump up but Jared pulls me back again and his hand presses a sore spot on my ribs, I crumple on the step.
“She really did a number on you didn’t she?” Dru sits up. “She knows how to get in your head. Did she tell you I lied? She was obsessed with me Harry, she was a clingy bitch and you don’t know her-”
“I know her,” I use the banister to stand up. “I’ve been working with her since I started my new job, I know her more than you ever did. You were wrong about her. About everything, you only ever gave me shitty advice.”
It gives me satisfaction, seeing the look on Dru’s face. I’d caught him by surprise, he really never knew. “So you’re keeping secrets from me now? You’re letting her come between us?”
“I don’t owe you shite. You’re nothing to me,” I walk over to him still sitting on the ground. “Don’t you ever put her name in your fucking mouth. And if I ever see you talking to her, looking at her, you won’t be able to tell your face from your arse. I know exactly what you are, I can’t believe I was so blind this whole time...you’re fucking dead to me Dru.”
It takes a moment for Dru to focus on me, “I’ll see what happens when she breaks your heart, you won’t have me around when that happens. And it will happen, she’s a slut who’s going to-”
I’m out of body when I swing my fist at his face and it makes a sickening crunch. Dru howls in pain and I stumble back, my fist throbbing in hot flashes.
“Enough!” Jared shouts, jumping in between us. When Dru goes to say something about me Jared blocks Dru from my view. “Enough you fucking dick! Enough! You’ve done enough!”
Dru shuts up; in all the years I’d known them, Jared never raised his voice at his younger brother. I’d heard them bicker plenty, arguing behind closed doors, but Jared never shouted at him like this. The shock is enough to push me out of the fog I was in.
The pain comes to me all at once, I was pretty sure my ribs were badly bruised, and blood gushes down my cheek. My hand feels useless, like the bones had turned to dust.
“Both of you are shutting the fuck up, and getting into the car. I’m driving you both to hospital because Harry’s taken a beating and Dru your nose is broken at the least.”
“I don’t-”
“No,” Jared says calmly to his brother. “In the car. Now. Not a word out of both of you.”
“Shotgun,” Andrew says weakly. Jared throws his jacket in his face and looks back at me. I follow him silently and get into the backseat. ***
Y/N:
I knock and knock but nobody answers the door. I stare at my phone, but I didn’t even have Harry’s number. I move the bottle from one hand to the other, knocking and I take a step back when a face I wasn’t expecting answers the door. It’s Dru, his face is massively discoloured, his nose is bruised and a gash on his cheek is stuck closed with steri-strips.
His grin sends cold dread through my body.
“Looking for your lover boy?” he asks me when I go silent. I stare at his face, at everything that Harry had done and he notices. “He’s good with his hands, but I’m sure you already know that.”
“Y/N,” Jared’s voice comes from behind Dru. “Sorry I was in the shower. Are you looking for Harry?”
It was unreal, how Jared walks up to the door like Dru wasn’t even there. He steps around his brother and in front of him, as if he’d been the one to open the door. I head Dru scoff, mutter something distasteful and move back up the steps.
“Yeah,” I clear my throat when the word gets stuck. “Yeah, uhm, is he here?”
“He moved, you haven’t got his number?” I shake my head no and he texts it to me along with his new address, I have no idea how Dru had my number. He look behind him before stepping towards me, closing the door behind him.
“Y/N, I just want to say I’m sorry. The way my brother treated you, it was wrong. And I should’ve said something to him earlier, but by the time I did it was too late. And then you two broke up and...I know Dru’s younger than me but growing up the way we did...it’s not always been the easiest to stand up to him.”
“Oh,” I wasn’t expecting such a confession.
“Too little, too late—I know. Rowan...she’s not happy with me. I would never hurt her—I’m not trying to get you on my side or anything but I just want to let you know. She said she needed space and it’s made me realize how stupid I’ve been not paying attention to her earlier and...” Jared trails off when he noticed my surprised face. Jared had never said this many words to me, and I also didn’t know Rowan had asked him for space. It was touching.
“I’m talking a lot aren’t I?” He laughs, ducking his head. “You’re probably itching to get to Harry but...I just want to make sure you know I’m sorry. Truly sorry.”
“Thank you,” I say stiffly, not quite sure what to do with his apology. This was the most we ever spoke and he got vulnerable very quickly. Maybe I would speak to Rowan about this break she’s on.
We depart awkwardly and I map out Harry’s new address, it’s less than a 20 minute walk so I go on foot.
My hands nearly drop the bottle in my hand twice, slick with sweat and distracted as I turn the last corner to Harry’s street. A housing complex with a staircase leading to the top level leaves me even more winded by the time I get to the top. I knock and wait a few minutes, just when I think I’m out of luck a movement behind the door stops me from going back down the horrible stairs.
“Y/N,” Harry says from behind the crack in the door he’s opened up.
“Hiya,” I say awkwardly, waiting for the door to open the rest of the way. When it doesn’t, I continue. “Jared gave me your new address...are you free?”
“I don’t know if it’s a good time,” Harry says.
“Right,” shite. “Right, of course sorry I should’ve called. I’ll go, talk to you later. Oh wait, this bottle’s for you and...” Harry still doesn’t open the door wider than a crack so I leave it on the doorstep and scurry down the steps.
What the fuck was that?
By the time I reach home, takeout in hand, my phone lights up with a notification:
Thanks for the wine, I can’t drink it right now with the pills I’m on but maybe I’ll wait to drink it with you.
I don’t know what to say to it, I had this whole speech planned to say in person and now it’s got nowhere to go. I simply heart the message and put my phone away, confused and a little heartbroken.
***
Harry doesn’t show up to work on Monday, apparently he’s out sick. He’s also not in a Tuesday meeting and I would’ve gotten worried but my manager tells me he was working from home. He’d had an injury.
“By the way,” she tells me as I head back after the meeting. “I’m liking the cooperation between you two. I don’t know what you two did to finally get over being enemies but I owe Miriam a big thank you.”
I choke out a laugh, “We realized we’re on the same team.” And even as I say it I realize it, we were on the same team now; he knew about Dru. But I still felt unsettled that he didn’t let me in on Sunday.
I get back to work, happy with the acknowledgement and hoping it gets me somewhere with a promotion. But work is slow moving without Harry, I realize I miss working closely with him. Or popping by his desk to bother him. I take out my phone to text him but upon rereading his strangely removed text he sent on Sunday, I decide against it.
I pour myself a glass of wine as soon as I get home, putting in a load of laundry and taking the work day off. As I’m going to heat dinner, there’s a knock at my door. Somehow, I think I know who it is.
Harry, bruises fading on his face and stitches on his cheek, leans on the doorframe with a massive bouquet in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he says as soon as I open the door.
“I…” I suddenly don’t know what to say. “Do you want to come in?”
He peeks behind me, into my safe space. His expression is unreadable but I don’t know if that’s because of how nervous I am. He looks at me for a solid minute.
“I can’t,” he sighs. “I just want to give you these. And say I’m sorry. About everything. And for shooing you away on Sunday—I looked fucking grisly, I was embarassed and…yeah. I’m sorry. For everything.”
“Okay,” I say tentatively. I take the flowers from his outstretched hand. He flashes me a smile, pushing away from the wall to leave. “Wait.” I stop him from going. “Why can’t you come in? It’s not my murder house.”
“No? Is that a few doors down?”
“It’s actually in the basement if you must know.” I grin. This felt okay.
But he sighs, “I can’t come in Y/N. Not right now, okay?” He brushes back a lock of my hair back and I realize I was no longer wearing any makeup, and my sweatpants definitely had a few questionable holes. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Okay,” I whisper. I watch him hobble off.
The bouquet goes in two vases of water because they’re too big for just one. I keep them on my coffee table and I can’t stop staring at them all night long.
***
“It makes you look rugged, just hit up a few pubs with that mug and you’ll have yourself a girlfriend in no time,” a few colleagues stand around Harry in the kitchen examining his fading bruises. Even though my own floor has a kitchen, I came to his for a tea in hopes of bumping into him. I don’t think he’s noticed me yet since his back’s to me.
“Who’s telling you I need a girlfriend?” Harry laughs.
“Mate,” a few people laugh too. “You’re oozing single bachelor. You never come out to drink with us either, you’re the resident mystery man.”
“Yeah he doesn’t ever come out with us does he?”
“Maybe he does have a missus at home.”
“Not with the way him and Y/N are always going at it, those two are like an old couple. Have you heard ‘em?”
“Yeah what is it between you two?”
“Harry’s a pain to be around,” I finally say. Everyone turns towards me, and when Harry’s eyes finally meet mine there’s an inside joke there.
“I’m in pain when you’re around,” he shoots back.
“That’s because someone finally did something about your face,” I motion to his bruises.
“Oh there they go,” someone grumbles and it doesn’t take long for them to disappear.
“Hello,” I say as Harry approaches the counter. “Was that last hit too fresh?”
“My doctors say it’s healing.”
“Mmm this team of doctors you seem to have.”
He smiles at the reference to an old joke and we stand in silence until I ask him.
“And you? You alright?” I busy myself with steeping my tea, not wanting to know if he wasn’t okay with me anymore.
“Yeah, it’s an oxymoron but I got most of my healing done with some violence. Don’t recommend it but it did feel good. You?”
“Oh,” I look up. “I’m…closer to alright than I was before.”
“Anything I can do to help?” Harry briefly touches his pinky to mine. I get we can’t do anything right now in the workplace, but my sudden urge to go around the counter and hug him tightly scares me.
“You’ve already done a lot,” I link my pinky with his instead when he doesn’t move it away. “It’s just…a me thing.”
“Y/N I am sorry I-“
“Harry,” I cut him off. “It’s okay.”
“But I should’ve-“
“Stop,” I tug his pinky. “It’s neither of our faults.”
“Imagine how different everything could’ve-“
“Don’t do that either,” I pick up my tea and finally walk around to his side. “Trust me, you won’t come up for air in time if you drown yourself in that.”
He sighs. “I think I have been.” We begin walking towards his desk in silence, thinking about this last week. Even though I’m left reeling with all the new information, with the what-ifs and could-haves, I also feel like I could finally close a chapter. I had read it aloud to people I trusted and they believed me. They had my back. I felt supported and I felt stronger in the face of my past than I had in a long time.
“This is me,” Harry says outside his department. When I notice none of his team was around I motion my head towards his desk. We walk in.
“You don’t have to punish yourself y’know that?”
Harry puts his mug down on his desk and stares at me with so much sadness it makes my heart hurt. I realize on the way to his desk that’s what he had been doing, that’s why he wouldn’t let me see him. I’d done enough self-punishing, I knew it wasn’t effective at all.
“I sort of feel like I deserve it.”
“Oh Harry,” I put my mug down and finally give in to that hug. And it nearly takes my breath away when he wraps his arms around my waist, rests his head on mine. It felt so right. Dru had fucked both of us over, but we had found each other even if it was just as friends.
“I’m sorry-“ Harry chokes out before his body shudders and I squeeze him even tighter. I pray nobody walks in because I needed this as much as he did. I keep my own tears locked up tight, not prepared to ruin this morning’s makeup. I just hold him for as long as he needs.
“I should be comforting you,” Harry says, his voice a bit stuffy.
“Nah, things are getting better,” I say as he sits down. Now I’m looking down at him. His eyes are pink but it only adds to his bruised look. He takes ahold of my hand, strokes my knuckles.
“You really squeezed my broken rib,” is not what I expect him to say but he always knew how to surprise me.
“I’m so sorry,” I take a step back. “Are you okay? Did I break it again?”
“As if you could break my ribs, you’re too weak for that.”
“Who are you calling weak?” I demand. “I could flip you over now if I wanted.”
“The only flipping you’re capable of is-“ Harry holds up both fingers and I can’t stop my mouth from falling open.
“Seriously you two?” Harry’s teammate walks in on the scene, Harry flipping me off. “It’s bloody 9am.”
I laugh, and so does he. I apologize for the early morning profanity and head towards the door.
“Y/N,” Harry takes two long strides to reach me, away from his colleague who’s settling into her desk. “You forgot your drink.”
“Right,” I take it from his hands, mischief twinkling in his eye. We had inside jokes now.
“I’m okay by the way,” he says to just me. “My ribs were only bruised. I’ll see you later okay?”
I don’t even hide my smile as I walk to the lift.
***
“Y/N,” my name snaps me out of the focused state I’d been in. “Have you finally lost your mind?”
“It’s perfectly intact thank you,” I roll my eyes at Harry, leaning over my desk. “Did you want something?”
“Ehm yeah, it’s end of the day?”
I look at the time: 5:10. When did that happen. “Lost track of time.”
“I’m following you home,” Harry says as I gather my things and start walking to the lifts.
“Did you just invite yourself over?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Sort of,” he has the decency to blush. “I just want to be around…” he trails off as a few of our colleagues join us in the wait for the lift. I want him to finish his sentence so bad but we file into the lift silently and listen to the chatter going on in front of us. Harry brushes his hand against mine but when I glance at him he stares ahead. I can tell he notices me looking when his lips twitch.
I pinch his hand and he yanks it back, “Ow!”
The group quiets and turn to him. He gives an awkward smile, “pinched my finger.”
As soon as the chatter resumes he glares at me but I smile sweetly and stare ahead.
“How did I ever think you were sweet?” Harry says as he follows me out of the building and towards the station.
“I am. You force me to forget my sweet nature,” I shrug.
He bumps into me, “I think I romanticized you too much in my head. You’re really a prickly cactus.”
“Me!? A prickly cactus??” I push him playfully, not entirely forgetting the rest of his words. We part as the crowd sheppards us into the station and onto the tube. We stand side by side close to the doors. “If I’m a prickly cactus, I’m just protecting myself from assholes.”
“That’s not me.” Harry wraps his arm around my shoulder in the close quarters of the tube and my insides go liquid. “Let me in little cactus. We can protect each other.”
I look up at him as the tube rushes to its next destination, and smile. Because even though we’re joking he’s still serious. And it’s seriously sweet.
He notices me looking and raises an eyebrow, “Well?”
“Fine,” I say with a smile on my face. It falls when he presses a kiss to my forehead, my body flushing with heat.
“Good,” he whispers to me. He pulls me closer into the ring of his arms and I have to say it’s the safest tube ride I’d ever had.
***
“Here’s home,” I say once we reach my flat. The 5 minute walk to my flat was pretty silent. Harry had grabbed ahold of my hand as soon as we left the station and with my insides buzzing I couldn’t think of a single thing to talk about. Harry seemed content in the silence.
“It’s very you,” Harry comments. “That’s a lot of books. And blankets.”
My sofa had half a dozen throws and behind my sofa were stacks of books growing up from the ground; impractical but I never got around to installing shelves. Eventually I liked the way they looked and kept them on the floor.
“I’m in publishing,” I shrug. “Books are my life!”
He flicks through the top few and suddenly I’m nervous that he’s here. So much has happened. He was twenty-one, my innocent saviour on a memorably bad day. He was a thorn in my side, and then he wasn’t. He saw me for who I was, not who people said I was. I think I loved him for it. The intensity of that last emotion sends me into my room, mumbling about changing into something more comfortable.
I sit on my bed, making sure my thoughts were actually my own. This was really something I thought.
But it comes to me so easily, it’s like the drawbridge had lifted and the ship carrying all my baggage was on it’s way out. It left behind so much space and I finally saw so much so clearly. Harry and I had a boatload of twisted history, we were always in each other’s peripheral. Now he was here. In front of me. It was scary and exhilerating.
“Do you want dinner?” I ask as I walk back out in a sweatshirt and leggings.
Harry’s standing by my gallery wall, my certificates and art, and photos of loved ones all gathered above my desk.
“I remember her,” he says sadly. He points at me in a photo from a Halloween party in my second semester. It was the first time I went a whole night with zero anxiety, I loved the new friends I made. It held a special place in my heart. “Look there’s me.”
“What?” I move closer, there’s no way I’ve had a photo hanging on my wall with Harry in it for the last 3 years.
But he’s right, in the background slightly cut off is Harry with Jared and someone else I don’t know. Him and Jared are dressed as what looks like Peaky Blinders characters, he’s smiling and when I take the frame off the wall and look closer I notice he’s smiling in the direction he’s looking in and that happens to be where I’m kneeling. He had been right there and I never even knew.
“Wow,” I say. “I never recognized you there.”
Harry takes the photo from me, he stares at it for a long time.
“Dru, he told me back then I wouldn’t have wanted Endgame at 18, 19 whatever. But I don’t think I would have minded.”
“What?” My mind slows down, trying to understand.
“When he was…manipulating me. He told me I wouldn’t want someone like you. I was young! I could be free and not tied down. I didn’t want endgame at that age. But I think I did. I was just too blinded, and scared, to go for it.”
“Are you scared now?” I ask him.
“What? No.”
“So go for it now,” I point to him in the photo. “He’d be proud.”
He looks at his younger self for a moment, lost in thought, and then slowly puts the frame down. He stares at me, a million thoughts behind his eyes. He was overthinking it, I realize. I link my fingers through his belt loops and tug him towards me and it snaps him out of it. His hand cups my face gently and he finally kisses me. It’s unlike any kiss I’d ever have, I feel every emotion he’s trying to say as he presses into me. I feel every heartbeat that ached for me in the way he holds me. It’s gentle, yet passionate, and I was drunk on it.
“Wow,” I breathe when he pulls away. From the dazed look on his face I can tell he feels the same.
“I think I lo-“
I shut him up by pressing another kiss to his lips and he reacts by pushing me into the wall. When we part again I brush his hair off his forehead.
“I love you,” I say even though it makes me want to shit myself.
He freezes for a moment before closing his eyes, a smile creeping onto his lips. “That’s not fair.”
“It is,” I grin. “I said it first.”
“You stopped me from saying it first!”
“I win,” I pull him back to me but he tilts his head to the side so my lips brush his cheek instead. “Sore loser!”
“That was not fair play,” he whines again.
“Who said I play fair?” I challenge him. “I love you! I even said it to you second.”
“No wait!” I slip away from his arms and saunter away. I hear him come up from behind and he pulls my waist back so my back is flush against his chest. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
With each time, he presses a kiss into my neck and I’m jelly in his hands.
“3-5 is me,” he says as he turns me around.
“I was still first,” I say but with less conviction as I come to face him this close.
“Cheater,” he mumbles into my neck.
“I’ll break your ribs again,” I threaten but it sounds like a joke the way it comes out of my mouth.
“As long as it’s not my heart,” he says and even though it’s a joke I can hear the doubt. The past seeping into the present.
“Hey,” I push him away so we’re looking at each other. “I never would have. And I never will.”
He nods but I hold his face in my hands. His hands come up to grip my arms. “Harry, I might be a prickly cactus but you know I’d never hurt you. That wasn’t me.”
He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I know. And I’m not him. You’re the air in my lungs Y/N, if I can have you, I’ll never let you go.”
“You have me,” I swear.
This time the kiss is slower, a promise to each other, to stay tender. We move that way into the bedroom, under the covers. He’s perfect. His hands roam every inch, and then his lips. By the time his hands grasp mine in the sheets, I’m blissed out of my mind. But he takes his time and I savour it, even when he whispers about forever.
***
Harry:
“Something’s changed.” O’Neil states in the middle of our last meeting with him. “You two are calmer together. Have you finally slept together?”
Y/N’s cheeks burn with embarassment but before she can speak I laugh, “we finally figured things out.”
“Good.” He nods. “I like you two together. Even though you didn’t read my book.”
Now I turn red and Y/N barks a laugh. This makes O’Neil grin and Y/N kicks me under the table.
“He’s very good at reading notes,” she says, gloating that someone other than herself has finally called me out. “Unless you write moon, then it’s neon.”
“It’s all good,” O’Neil claps my shoulder as he stands. “You did my book justice. I know she’s the one that deserves the credit but you two are finally a team. Stay that way.”
“We plan to,” Y/N says. I stand with her as we see the author out of the final meeting. He shuts me up when I try to apologize and tells me privately to hold her close. I intend to.
“That was a success,” Y/N says as we tidy up the meeting room. “The book’s on shelves in four weeks and we made that happen.”
“We did,” I can’t help but lean over and plant a kiss on her cheek. I loved when she got flustered at work.
We thought nobody had noticed the change in us at work until last week when our manager asked if we had gone to HR yet. That was an awkward conversation but she didn’t seem too bothered so we’d made the trip to make our relationship work-official. Y/N and I had been spending a lot of time in her flat, wrapped in each other. Sometimes we went out with Jared and Rowan, and Rowan threatened me many times to be good to her. I told her to do the same with Jared.
After everything with Dru, Jared moved out as well because Rowan wouldn’t date him if she had to see Dru around every time she went over. I wasn’t sure what Dru was up to but I know Jared got lonely sometimes. I could never understand their relationship but I was happy to see him with Rowan, they were good for each other.
“What are you thinking about?” Y/N snaps me out of my thoughts.
“Stuff,” I say.
“Sounds juicy,” she teases.
“Might be,” I walk over to her, unable to keep my hands off of her. It was a problem at work since we tried to stay as professional as possible but here in the blacked out room I took the risk.
“Tell me more,” her eyes are glued to my lips as I lean into the table, towering over her.
I draw her into a deep kiss, her hands tangling in my hair which usually tips me over the edge. She knows it. She knows I know she knows it. So I step away instead and her sweet smile vanishes.
“Come back,” she reaches for me.
“I’ll see you at home,” I peck her on the lips and grab my laptop.
“Not fair!” She says after me.
“I’ve got a meeting and you,” I grin. “Have to learn to play fair.”
“You’ll regret this,” she crosses her arms, trying to look menacing.
“You look cute when you don’t get your way,” I say before opening the door and shifting into work mode again. “Great meeting!” I shout back as I leave the room. I wouldn’t see her until the end of the day and with her mounting frustration at me, I couldn’t wait for 5pm to come around.
