Chapter Text
November 2017
"So, how are you?"
The question was meant to be simple and an immediate answer to most people. But, for Harry, it was complicated.
Maybe for other people it was just as complicated. He couldn't tell you how many times he heard 'I'm fine' from someone but their red rimmed eyes and blotchy cheeks said something else.
He wondered whether or not his sister could tell just like he could with others. Maybe it was obvious, but why ask? In that moment, he never wanted to kick himself more than he did for all the times he had asked someone that when he could clearly see they weren't fine.
It was like a cycle by now though.
I'm managing.
I'm getting there slowly.
And to those he hardly knew, I'm fine.
But this was his sister and, judging by her somber expression, pinched brows and downturned lips that only worsened the longer he took to answer, she knew what the truth was.
He sighed eventually and answered with, "how do you think?"
It may have come out a bit harsher than he had intended for it to, watching her wince at his tone as he spoke.
"Maybe you need to get out of the house," she suggested in the gentlest tone he had ever heard from her. It was as if she were talking to a child and he hated it.
She wasn't even this bad the first time 'round.He, on the other hand, wasn't sure if this was worse than his first divorce. Yeah, first divorce.
He was now known as the guy that had two divorces. Two failed marriages. Two cheating husbands.
What kind of a sick joke was the universe playing on him, honestly?
But, he could blame no one but himself. He pushed them away. He could sense his marriage crumbling but he didn't do anything about it. He shrugged it off. He ignored their issues. They never communicated.
He would have thought he would have learnt from the first time but apparently he hadn't.
So, just like a pull of a wooden block from a Jenga tower, everything suddenly collapsed. It went tumbling down. Twice. Fucking twice.
"It's not your fault," she said firmly, as if she were reading his mind.
He supposed she was. She knew him better than most people. She knew how much he blamed himself for the downfall of both of his marriages.
"What other explanation is there?" He laughed humourlessly, "I'm the common denominator in both failed relationships--- marriages for fucks sake."
He looked down, fiddling with the handle of his coffee cup, willing himself not to cry. He had been too much of that recently. Ever since he signed those papers a week ago, it seemed like he never stopped.
He was sure his body would have run out of liquids from the amount of crying he had been doing but apparently biology didn't work that way so he hadn't run out of tears.
"It takes two to tango, okay? Besides, they're the ones who lied and cheated on you," she said with a bitter tone in her voice, obvious suggesting how much she detested them.
Why couldn't Harry just be angry and bitter towards them? Why did he have to feel all of this sorrow and grief?
Don't get him wrong, when Harry drank, he got angry all right. He just wanted to punch something or even someone sometimes and the thought scared him shitless. He was never a violent person and he sure as hell wasn't going to start being one now, regardless of how pissed off and upset he was.
"Then why does this always make me feel like shit while they get to go and live their lives all happily ever after? The fact that this is something that is a recurring event in my life says a lot, don't you think?"
"Yes, that recurring theme is you having shit taste in men. They were both assholes and neither mum nor I liked either of them, and you know that, even though Zayn wasn't vocal about it, he never liked them either," Gemma said, more like ranted at this point.
"Neither did Liam," Harry sighed, unsure how else to reply to that.
Regardless of what other people say or how much they try to reassure him that it wasn't his fault, he didn't believe it. It wasn't that easy.
It wasn't as easy as everyone made it seem to be. It was a process. After his first marriage ended, it took him a few months to push all thoughts about his ex-husband away. He locked them in a chest and threw the key away. As his second marriage slipped through his fingers, that chest burst opened, unable to contain itself anymore.
A new vault of memories and emotions joined the chest and made a permanent wall in his mind that he just couldn't get through. He was weak and his fists banged against the bricks and bruised his knuckles until they bled.
"Look," Gemma sighed, "why don't you come stay with Joe, Celia and I for a while? I'm sure Celia will cheer you up a little bit," she smiled softly at him and reached forward to place her soft palm over the back of his hand. Her dark, mauve coloured nails contrasted against his pale skin.
"I don't know," Harry gulped.
He was sure his little niece would cheer him up but he was afraid it might do more harm than good right now because he yearned for a child of his own and she would just remind him of a dream he once had.
He was close. So, so close to getting there but it slipped as fast as soap on a floor, right under his nose.
"Maybe Zayn and Liam then?" Gemma offered, her face showing signs of helplessness now.
And he really appreciated her trying to help--- He did--- But he wasn't ready. He wasn't sure when he would be again but right now, he wasn't.
He wasn't ready to see his two best friends act all lovey dovey with each other while he moped around, newly divorced and alone in his life. He had never felt more alone in his entire life. Even after his first divorce, he hadn't felt completely and entirely alone. He still had Zayn then, having only met Liam. They went out and he drowned his sorrows in burning whiskey and stinging tequila along with his friends.
Then he met Alexander. He wasn't meant to be anything permanent in Harry's life; just a fling he used to get over Connor but of course his heart decided otherwise and he fell for him. Hard.
Lucky for him, (back then, of course) Alex felt the same way and they fell in love quickly. He agreed to marry him and he never regretted anything at that moment in time. He knew they weren't ready. He knew he wasn't over Connor but he stupidly thought marrying someone else might change that.
Maybe it did for a while. He got over Connor and their bitter ending and he focused on Alex and their new start. It fell as quickly as it came. Well, not as quickly as the first marriage but it felt quicker. Maybe because Connor and him dated much longer before they got married whereas Harry and Alex had only been dating a few months before they got married.
A stupid, stupid decision.
His mother always warned him about rushing into things but he never listened, being the petulant human being he was who wore his heart on his sleeve.
"That's not a very good idea," Harry said in a quiet voice, looking down almost shamefully.
Gemma sighed again and squeezed his hand before pulling away. His hand felt cold then and he hated that he didn't want her to let go. He didn't want to do all of this again.
All of the sympathetic, patronising looks and drinking glass upon glass upon bottle of alcohol. It wasn't as if he enjoyed it. He just enjoyed the numbness that resulted from it. It provided an escape for him, even if it was just for a short while.
"Mum misses you," she said with a hopeful glint in her eyes. Right. So she was insinuating that he call her up and ask if he could stay with her like the desperate, lonely man he was who still needed his mum to this very day. How pathetic.
"I'm almost 32, Gemma," he croaked out, surprised at the rasp of his voice. It was probably all the crying.
"There's no shame in wanting your mum or dad's shoulder to cry on, no matter how old you are. Besides, she really does miss you and you've been avoiding her calls," She said, her eyes were as dull as the gloomy sky outside and her skin was almost as pale as his. She tightened her leather jacket around and zipped it up, "It's getting a little chilly in here," she added with a small shiver.
"I'll turn the heater on," He mumbled, dragging his chair over the wood of the floor and heading towards the lounge area to turn the heater on.
He grabbed the remote from his coffee table and turned it on, setting it on an appropriate temperature for both of them as he was not feeling too cold.
When he headed back to the kitchen table, he noticed his sister typing on her phone and he was quick enough to spot his mother's name at the top of the screen and his own name being typed out by Gemma.
She quickly pushed her phone into her pocket once she spotted him walking back.
He took a seat opposite her again. "I'll ring mum later today, okay? But let me do this at my own pace, please?"
Gemma let out a defeated sigh, "I just want to help you, H, you need to know that."
"I do but I have to do some things on my own. When I need help or someone to cry with, I'll let you guys know, yeah?"
"Alright," she finally shook her head, accepting his request, "Zayn also asked me to tell you that he's going to stop by soon, whether you like it or not."
"But he and Liam just got back from Greece," He groaned.
"I don't think he really cares about that," Gemma said with a soft smile.
"God, Zayn," Harry rolled his eyes, staring down at his now cold, dark brown coffee.
"Yes, damn Zayn and his soft, caring heart," she sighed dramatically.
Harry rolled his eyes again but his lips twitched upwards. It was the closest he had gotten to smiling in months.
"Hey, H," She called out. Harry looked up at her, meeting her eyes, "They're assholes and you deserve better."
Harry bit his bottom lip. He wasn't even sure what 'better' was at this point. He had gotten the same thing when he divorced Connor.
You'll find someone better, they said. He doesn't deserve you, they said.
How many times are people going to keep saying that to him? He was just tired. Drained and exhausted; Mentally, physically and emotionally.
"How's Celia?" Harry asked, in desperate need to change the subject because he really didn't feel like talking about his ex-husbands right now.
"She's good. She's getting really tall all of a sudden for a five year-old. She's just growing up too fast," she informed him with a smile on her face.
"I can imagine," Harry smiled too, remembering his niece's bright smile and amber eyes, "I'll come and meet her soon."
"She's been asking about you a lot, so I'm sure she'd love a visit from you."
"I will, I promise. Give her big hug and kiss from me,"
"Of course," she said then got up. Harry stared at her, perplexed as he watched her step to his side of the table. She bent down and engulfed him in a hug, squeezing his shoulders and it felt--- It felt good.
It felt overwhelming but so good at the same time. Despite the awkward position, he cherished the closeness and warmth. She rubbed his arms as he sank into the hug and she kissed his hair before pulling away.
He didn't even know he was crying again until he felt the pads of her fingertips wipe at his cheeks. He quickly wiped the corner of his eyes with his index fingers and sniffed looking at his sister with blurry eyes.
"You really needed that, huh?" She asked with that look. You know, the look you'd give someone who just lost their puppy.
"Didn't know how much," he let out a humourless wet chuckle.
"You're a stubborn git you know?"
Harry laughed again, this time genuinely. "Think I get it from mum," he sniffed again, wiping his nose.
"Well, can't say I'm any better, am I?"
"Pretty sure Joe will back me up on that,"
Gemma glared at him, "all right, all right," she straightened herself and wiped her thighs over her skinny jeans, "I need to go pick up Joe from the airport, but I'm going to be checking up on you and you better pick up your phone, okay?"
Harry bit his lip but nodded anyways.
"I mean it, Harry," she warned him with an intense gaze.
"I know," he sighed, "now leave before you’re late."
Gemma narrowed her eyes at him, "all right now get off that chair and give me a proper hug."
Harry reluctantly got off his chair and hugged his sister properly, resting his chin on her hair, squeezing her tightly. And it felt so good.
"Please don't be a stranger," She said when she pulled away.
Harry simply nodded as she backed away. He watched her shut the door behind her after sending him one last wave before the flat went dead silent again. The only thing that was heard was the sound of the old refrigerator running.
And, once again, Harry felt the familiar feeling of loneliness creeping up on him. Just like that, he was all alone again in his dingy, old flat with nothing but the cold cup of coffee left abandoned on the table, half empty.
***
Harry woke up to an insistent buzz that just wouldn't go away no matter how many times he waved his hand in the air to swipe the pest away.
He finally opened his eyes when he realised that it was no mosquito or pesky bug that made that horrible buzzing sound, but in fact the sound of his intercom buzzing relentlessly.
Harry huffed and slowly sat up, pushing the duvet off of him and slipping on his fuzzy slippers before heading to his door, wiping at his tired eyes and blinking awake slowly.
He pressed the grey button on the intercom, "who is it?" He rasped.
"Its Zayn, you goon. Open up," he said, his voice hasty as if he had to get inside as quickly as possible. Made sense since it was about 0° outside. He quickly buzzed his friend in, unlocking his door and pulling his gown over his pyjamas. He rubbed over his upper arms to create some friction and warmth in his body until he spotted his raven-haired friend, thick, brown coat on and what looked like a thin pair of sweatpants.
His hair was disheveled and his eyes were tired and droopy. He looked like he just rolled out of bed and yet he still looked like a model. Harry despised him.
"Hey, H," he said cheerfully, walking in and shutting the door behind him, he turned to Harry again, "I brought donuts and a cookie," he said, holding out a brown paper bag.
Harry's mood instantly brightened. He loved him."Thank you," Harry said, grabbing the bag from Zayn and wordlessly walking to his kitchen. He could hear Zayn's footsteps as they followed behind him.
"So," Harry began, placing the bag on the counter and then leaning against It, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at his friend who sat on the bar stool opposite him, "what brings you here at arse o'clock in the morning?"
"It's not even that early," he paused, shrugging the ends of his coat off his wrist to look at his watch, "It's almost eight."
"Its early," Harry argued.
"Whatever," he sighed, "and you know why I'm here."
Harry was the one to sigh this time, looking down at the floor, the cracked tiles suddenly becoming the subject of interest, "a pity party?" He murmured while looking down.
"A supportive friend," Zayn corrected. Harry looked up to see his friend looking back at him with pursed lips, "You know the last thing I would do is pity you."
"I know," Harry mumbled. He knew that out of everyone, Zayn just got him. He understood him well and knew that Harry hated the pity he had gotten from everyone else.
"Good, now eat your donut and let's go get us some real breakfast," Zayn ordered with a stern gaze.
Harry huffed and reached for the bag, pulling out the small box of donuts and placing it on the island in front of him. He took out the chocolate glazed one and handed Zayn the sprinkled one.
"I needed this," he said with a mouthful of the delicious fried dough and sweet chocolate.
"I know you did," he said with a cocky shrug, chewing his relatively slower than Harry who was devouring his.
Harry finished his treat quickly and changed into something more appropriate for going out before brushing his teeth and meeting Zayn again, who now stood at the threshold of his flat.
Harry grabbed his black coat from the coat hanger and his keys from the coffee table before heading out with Zayn, locking his door behind him.
Zayn drove them to an unusual café at the end of the street, parking opposite the shop. They managed to find a good booth towards the end of the vicinity and near the heater.
As they looked at the menu, Harry could feel Zayn staring at him so he finally snapped, placing the menu down, "all right, spit it out," he sighed.
"You've been ignoring people," Zayn said, placing his own menu down and leaning forward, both arms crossed over the mahogany table.
"What else is new?" Harry asked in a dismissive manner.
"Babes," Zayn said with a stupid pout on his face. Harry looked away, gnawing at his bottom lip.
"I'm hurting, Z," Harry explained, "and I don't know how to deal with it this time."
Zayn shifted closer to him and grasped his hand, holding it tightly in his own. It felt anchoring. After drifting and floating away for months, he finally felt grounded. Harry knew it was a sign for him to carry on.
"I just...It's not like I can help how I feel, you know? I just keep thinking back to the moment - the exact moment - where things could have gotten wrong. Where exactly did I fuck up enough to lose him? What could I have done to change it? What can I do to change it? Just, what went wrong?"
And he didn't know what it was about Zayn but that was the most he had opened to someone about anything in the past few months.
Zayn remained quiet but Harry could see him look down and bite his bottom lip. He was refraining.
"What?"
"Nothing," Zayn shook his head, sighing, "I just--- you're blaming yourself when he was the one that cheated on you?"
Harry shook his head, too, pulling his hand away from Zayn's grip and clapping his own two hands together over his lap, leaning back, "this is not the first time, Z. What the hell am I doing wrong that drives them to go and cheat in the first place, you know?"
Zayn frowned, "ever thought that maybe they're both just assholes or say you were having issues and they did feel unhappy in your relationship, is cheating really the answer? What happened to trying and talking it through? Communication?"
"I didn't communicate either," Harry argued weakly. He wasn't sure why he was so hell bent on blaming himself--- he just was.
"Yeah but the difference between you and them is that you never cheated on them," Zayn said, getting heated now. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, "babe, I just wish you'd stop blaming yourself for things that are out of your control."
"Are you using your psychology degree against me?" Harry mumbled with a small smile on his face.
Zayn groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face, "Harry, I'm being serious here."
"'M sorry."
"You're lucky you're so adorable," he said, almost begrudgingly.
"Zayn, why do I feel this way?" Harry asked after a gap of silence.
"Because you need something solid to place blame on. People find it easier to cope with things when they do that," he explained.
"Easier," Harry scoffed, "I’m just not enough for them."
Zayn pulled Harry's shoulders so that Harry's head was laying against his shoulder, "You. Are. Enough. More than enough, in fact. They just lost the best thing that ever happened to them, Haz."
Zayn words brought tears to his eyes and smile to his lips.
"Are you smiling?" Zayn asked in a whisper, leaning his own head against Harry's.
Harry's grin grew wider, "fuck off, you dick."
"There's the Harry I know," Zayn said, squeezing his shoulders, "listen, why don't we forget about all of this depressing talk and get some delicious hot chocolate and drown yourself in cake and pastries instead of alcohol this time."
"Can we include sandwiches because you know I have to have something savoury to balance out all the sweet."
"Right, right, of course," Zayn rolled his eyes and shifted a little further away from him to grab his menu, "bet you ten bucks I can guess what you're going to order."
Harry smirked at him, "You're on."
"You have to be honest though, okay? No cheating," Zayn said with a warning yet playful glare.
"Cross my heart," Harry said, his one hand up in surrender and the other drawing out a cross with his finger over his heart.
"Fine," Zayn opened up his menu and started to page through the food and beverage items.
It was three hours later when they actually finished at the café. Harry felt so much lighter and happier than he had been in months. Zayn won the bet and guessed what Harry ended up ordering, right down to the extra avocado on his sandwich. It felt great to be wanted again. To be treated again. To be able to feel something other than loneliness and sorrow for once.
Zayn ended their visit later that afternoon, saying he had to meet Liam's mum and dad for supper but promising to come back tomorrow and to bring Liam. Harry almost cried again --- happy tears this time --- when Zayn hugged him tightly, kissed his cheek and said that he loved him.
He hadn't heard anyone say that to him in months. His family didn't count. They always said it to him. For some reason, Zayn's felt so much more heart warming. Maybe it was because he hadn't seen him in so long that it was nice to hear it from him.
After Zayn left, Harry decided to finally give his mum a call, like he had promised he would last week.
It rang twice before she finally picked up, his heart stuttered in his chest when she said his name. A soft and familiar 'Harry' in her voice made him sigh in relief.
"Hey, mum," he croaked out.
"Oh, baby, it's so nice to hear your voice again," she laughed shortly in a happy tone.
"It's nice to hear your voice too, mum," he said, leaning back on his couch.
"Gemma told me you're thinking about coming home," she said. Harry could hear the hopeful tone in her voice.
"I am but honestly, seeing Zayn today put me in a much better mood than I have been in a long, long time," Harry said truthfully.
"That's good, love," she said, "just know I'm here, okay? Even if you want to come over for just a day or just a night--- I'm here."
"I know, mum," he smiled, "I just need to be by myself for a while."
"You always do," His mum sighed.
"Just feel like being alone right now," Harry shrugged.
"I know but we'll get through this okay? You'll get through this. That awful man didn't deserve you," she huffed through the speaker.
"Wow, Gemma was right. You really never liked him," Harry chuckled.
"Never liked that Connor boy either," Anne said with a scoff, "too much of an arrogant bastard if you ask me."
"Mum," Harry gasped.
"Just the truth, honey," she said.
"All right well, they're both out of my lives now so are you happy?"
"I'm not happy about the way it happened. You didn’t deserve that and those boys will pay for what they did to you,"
"Mum, you're sounding like a psycho right now. Please don't tell me you're going to be the one that's gonna make them pay," Harry laughed nervously.
"No, no. Karma will take care of that."
"Yeah well, I'm waiting for that day."
"It'll come soon, babe. You just have to take care of yourself, yes?"
"Yeah," Harry nodded although it was kind of numb.
"Please call me again soon, love or come and visit. I'll come there if you'd like me to,"
"I'll let you know, mum," he said, genuinely.
"Okay," she sighed, not entirely happy with the answer, Harry was sure but she accepted it anyways.
"I love you, mum," Harry said.
"Love you too, babe," she replied and Harry could hear the smile in her voice.
Once they hung up, Harry placed his phone on the coffee table and shut his eyes, letting out a breath. He was stuffed, slightly happy and tired. He felt like a python due to his gluttony.
It wouldn't be the worst to take a nap, would it? He took off work for some time now so it should be for getting some rest anyways. Nothing wrong with sleeping at 4 in the afternoon if you were rudely awakened at 8 in the morning after barely four hours of sleep.
With his mind put to rest, Harry felt his eyes drooping shut and sleep taking over.
***
Meeting his mum for the first time in months wasn't as bad as he had expected it to be. Sure, there were times where she asked him questions about the whole divorce but she didn't push and he didn't hesitate to answer, much to his surprise.
Maybe he was stupidly naive but that could have been the first step to healing. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part.
"When do you get the date?" She had asked that same night he had gone to visit her.
He knew what she was asking about, of course. The date that the court would send to officiate the end of their marriage. A date that the court will send soon and Harry dreaded that day. It was step two and soon after would be financial discussions. In both cases, Harry had the upper hand due to his spouses being the ones that committed adultery although he was never the one to file for a divorce in the first place.
The financial discussions could take up to six weeks before his divorce is officially final. The whole process is draining. And he would be going through it. Again.
"Well, I don't think I have to give you any legal or financial advice for this part, can I?"
"I should be fine, mum," Harry chuckled.
It was a sunny day for a change. His mum suggested that they sit outside for a change and enjoy some breakfast. Harry couldn't say no because he kind of missed the smidge of sunlight that shone over the otherwise gloomy sky.
"I made a new best friend," Anne said, her mouth full of papaya as she chewed it slowly.
"Really? Do I already know her?" Harry asked, leaning forward, his elbows rested on top of the flimsy wooden table.
"Why do you assume it's a female?" Anne arched her brow at him, her lips smirking.
Harry backtracked, "oh, well--- I mean, is it a male? That's fine. I just assumed-- I'm sorry, I shouldn't assume any---"
Anne barked out a laugh, "oh, relax, hun. It's a female and she lives a few houses down," she explained, gesturing where about with her fork.
"Oh," Harry pinched his brows together, "how long has she been living there?"
"Not long," she said, pushing a piece of apple into her mouth, "About six months or so."
"Oh, well I'm happy for you," Harry said with an honest smile.
His mum was getting lonely without Robin. His passing was not easy for any of them, given how close they all were to him. Now that Gemma, Harry and Robin were gone, she opened up about she felt and he and Gemma tried their best to be there for her as much as possible. Which was why the whole divorce thing hadn't come in the best timing. Actually, no timing at all would have been ideal, if he was being honest.
"Are you thinking about dating again?" He asked abruptly.
Her chewing slowed down then came to a stop. She looked up at him then shifted her gaze thoughtfully.
"I think I'm done with that," she concluded, "I'm too old for all of that now."
"You're never too old, mum," Harry said, although he wasn't really trying to convince her because he guessed that she would say that. It was more of a general statement.
She raised an eyebrow at him, "Well, are you?"
"Old? Psht, absolutely not," Harry quipped, waving her off.
She gave him a deadpanned look.
Harry sighed, "I don't know. Just really discouraged from anything right now, if I'm being honest."
"Well, unlike me, you still have enough time to find your soulmate and I have a feeling you're going to find him soon,"
"That makes one of us," he scoffed.
"Oh, speaking of," her eyes brightened in realisation, "my new best friend has a son that's around your age and I--"
"No, mum. Stop right there. The last time you tried to set me up with someone, he ended up stealing my wallet and spitting on my shoes," he grimaced, then brought his cup of tea to take a small sip of it, tentative of the temperature.
"Oh, Harry. Get over it, would you? That was years ago," she rolled her eyes, "besides, her son is very good looking too--- nice on the eyes and sm---"
"Mum," Harry groaned.
She laughed then her face turned serious, "I'm only encouraging you because I know you're blaming yourself right now for something that isn't even your fault."
"So convincing me to date other guys is doing that?"
"Oh hush," Anne picked up a grape and threw it at him. The small fruit just missed his eye.
"So mature," Harry said flatly.
"Even if it isn't dating--- have some fun, you know? Don't rush into anything. Maybe just fine someone to roll around in the hay with, if you get what I'm saying," she winked.
Harry groaned even louder, "oh my god, mum. Are you seriously asking me to get a fuck buddy or something?"
"That language is so foul," she grimaced, "just a friend you have occasional intercourse with."
Harry covered his face with his palms. "I can't believe we're having the conversation," he mumbled into his skin, "and who even uses the word intercourse anymore?"
"Coitus?" She offered with a playful smile.
"Okay anyway," he squeaked, "what's your friend's name?"
"Jo."
"All right and am I going to meet her any time soon?"
"Not now, I'm afraid. She's gone to see her daughter in France for a while. If you choose to still speak to your poor old mother and not shut her out again, I'll be sure to call you over next time she's around," she ended with a pointed stare.
Harry refrained from rolling his eyes and offered her a sarcastic smile instead, "thanks."
"Quite a mouth on you all of a sudden," Anne hummed, her eyes narrowed at him.
"Sorry," he mumbled sheepishly.
"You know what," she said, straightening up. Harry gave her a questioning look. "Lets go clubbing."
"Mum," he drawled out in a groan, "why are you like this?"
"Well, excuse me for trying to help my son," she said, her hand over her chest.
"Can we not just--- I don't know, bake a cake or something?" Harry offered desperately.
Because clubbing with his mum... no thank you. Big no thank you as far as Harry was concerned.
He loved his mum to bits but she was pushing it too far this time. Trying too hard and he wasn't sure why.
"How about some cupcakes?" She asked with a playful smile and twinkle in her eyes.
Harry sighed in relief, "anything but what you suggested, if I'm being honest."
"Fine, chocolate it is then," She ended with a sweet smile and took a dainty sip of her juice.
"Mum," Harry whined, "You know I hate chocolate."
"No son of mine will hate chocolate thank you very much," she waved him off, now paging through this morning's newspaper with her manicured fingernails and ring-clad fingers.
"You hate cherries. Who hated cherries? That's, like, a crime," he fought back weakly.
"Argument is weak, darling," Anne said off-handedly, chuckling softly at the comic section.
"You're supposed to be cheering me up," Harry mumbled, letting out a defeated sigh and taking a big sip of his morning coffee.
When he looked back at his Mum, she was smiling, one of her fond, loving smiles.
"How about some vanilla ones with strawberry icing then?"
Harry's lips slowly pulled up into a smile, "jam in the middle?"
Anne grimaced but quickly composed herself, "right, I forgot how much you liked jam--- fine then."
"Blueberry jam?" He asked, biting his lip.
"Blueberry jam in vanilla cupcakes with strawberry icing?" Anne asked with an unimpressed look.
"Hey, it'll cheer me up okay?" He pouted.
"I swear to god, you’re like a child sometimes," she huffed and pushed her chair back, "come on then, let's make this abomination of cupcakes that you want."
Harry grinned and followed his mum to the kitchen.
They baked the cupcakes just as Harry had wanted them and they tasted horrendous, but that was the most he had smiled and actually enjoyed himself in months, so he wasn't complaining.
***
When his final set of divorce papers were signed and finalised, Harry drove straight to Zayn's and Liam's. He wasn't even thinking straight; he just had to get away--- he just wanted a hug.
His mum was too far away. Gemma was too far away. Most of his other friends were Alexander's friends or Connors friends from way back when that he hadn't spoken to since they got divorced.
He had to go to Zayn and Liam. They were his best friends.
His best friends who were also a newly wed couple and quite annoyingly still stuck in their honeymoon phase years later and couldn't keep their hands off of each other.
They never really could, now that Harry was thinking about it. He couldn't tell you how many times he had walked in on them doing each other. One time, doing another guy. That scarred Harry very deeply and they don't discuss that night. Ever.
So, really, he shouldn't have been surprised when he knocked on the door and heard fumbling on the other side only to see them looking all frazzled and fucked when they answered.
"Harry," Liam greeted with a surprised look on his face.
"I should have called," Harry mumbled, studying the gown thrown over Liam's body haphazardly.
"Nonsense, come in," Liam stepped aside, pulling Harry in gently by his arm.
"Harry," Zayn said before Harry could even take three steps into their household.
Upon hearing how Zayn said his name--- as normal and mundane as ever, mind you--- he broke down crying.
Before he knew it, arms were gathering him up and ushering him onto the couch. Hands petted his back and sifted through his hair while hot tears ran down his cheeks and choked sobs left his throat.
"Oh, Harry," Zayn said. Harry was pulled into Zayn's chest while Liam's hands rubbed his back.
"Harry, hey," Liam squeezed his shoulder to get his attention, "You need to breathe, okay? Just breathe with us."
Liam and Zayn inhaled slowly and exhaled a few times, waiting for Harry to do the same. He eventually did, his sobs still wracking through his body in sudden outbursts and violent shakes.
He pulled away from Zayn and wiped at his eyes. Harry could feel both their eyes staring at him, silently asking what was wrong but giving him the time he needed to answer and explain himself. He supposed he owed it to them, showing up at their doorstep at nine at night, interrupting their lovely couples night with his depressing, morbid mood and dull mood.
He just ruined everything.
"'M so sorry," he started. Before Zayn or Liam could even shake their heads, he continued, "I should have called or something b-but I didn't where else t-to go."
"We're here for you anytime you need us, H. You know this," Liam enunciated, shifting closer to him.
"What happened, babes?" Zayn asked, his hand now over Harry's, laying limp over his lap.
"Th-the papers,"
He didn't have to finish, Zayn gave him a knowing look, pulled him in by his neck and hugged him again.
"It'll be okay, H,"
Harry didn't believe them at this point. He lost hope and he wasn't sure when he'd gain it back--- if he'd gain it back at all. He wasn't sure what the point was anymore, when all that happened to hope in the end was get crushed. Stomped. Trampled.
"Do you want to stay here tonight?" Liam asked, voice soft.
"I d---"
"You're not going to be trouble. Please stay with us for a while. We're here for you," Zayn squeezed his shoulders.
Harry sighed and pulled away. His head lolled backwards until his eyes met the ceiling. The pale white contrasting with the black, matte lamps that hung over him.
"Do you want some tea or coffee--- anything?"
"No thanks," he shook his head. Even with his lids now shut, his eyes still burned.
"Well the guest room is ready for you if you need to have a lay down. You look exhausted,"
Harry opened his eyes to see Zayn studying his features worryingly.
"I don't think I want to wake up," he laughed humourlessly.
"Harry," Liam warned in a soft yet firm tone, "he's not even worth it, mate."
"Yeah, H. Don't say shit like that. He's a pig," Zayn said, eyebrows pinched and cheeks red.
"I think I'm going to sleep," Harry muttered, out of lack of thought and words, he could only focus on one other thing.
"All right," Zayn sighed. With a pat to his shoulder, he said, "don't hesitate to tell us if you need anything because Li and I are here for you."
"Always," Liam enunciated.Harry smiled at his friends as best as he could, "I don't deserve you guys."
"If anything we don't deserve you," Zayn grinned back, "what with your adorable dimples and curly hair--- way out of our league, don't you think, Li?"
Liam chuckled, "definitely."
"Zayn, you're literally a model. What the fuck," Harry snorted.
Liam barked out a laugh and Zayn frowned.
"You could be one too!" He protested. "Just let me cheer you up, okay?"
Harry pursed his lips together and bit back a smile. They always knew how to make him smile, even if his mood was dull.
"Do you think I'm going to be okay after this?" He asked quietly.
"You're Harry fucking Styles," Zayn looked him in the eye, a hand on his shoulder, "you'll be more than okay."