In My Arms

She walked through London alone, the tears long since drying, and internally argued with herself on what to do next. There seemed to be three options: first, go back to Harry—that was definitely out—second, get a plane in the morning and go back to the States to figure things out better, and three, find a dealer and drop out. Deep down, she knew heroin wasn’t the answer. But this wasn’t how things were supposed to happen. Harry wasn’t supposed to break her heart.

Where had it gone wrong? Was it wrong from the beginning; did they fall too fast and too hard? Maybe it really was just physical, maybe they’d tricked themselves into thinking that it was emotional love; that they were meant to be together. She started crying again. She had loved Harry with every single beat of her heart. He was the one her soul adored—he was the one she was supposed to spend the rest of her life loving. And now, that was over.

Fucking media. Fucking fans. And God damned fucking paparazzi.

She pulled out her cellphone, staring at her dealer’s name. Just one night wasn’t a relapse. One night was just a break from the monotony of sobriety. It was a lie she could easily convince herself to believe. Dragging her hands over her eyes to clear her vision from tears, she jabbed the face of the phone to dial his number.

It rang several times. Finally, just as she was about to hang up, a familiar voice answered, “Hey lovely lady, what are you doin’ tonight?”

She frowned. Matt wasn’t Irish.

“Elizabeth?” The voice on the other end coughed, as if he was clearing his throat. “Are you still there?”

Fuck, she’d dialed Niall’s phone instead of Matt. “Niall…hey…sorry to bother you, I misdialed. Well, hey hope you’re doing well—“

“You sound upset.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath; starting again. “Me? No, just tired. It’s a personality trait now.”

“Have you been crying?” There was a pause. “Where’s Harry?”

“I walked out.” She blurted the words out and started crying again, the awful, hiccupy sobs that sounded like hyperventilating. “I accused him of cheating and then he accused me of cheating and then…Niall, I just can’t take it anymore. I can’t. I dumped him.”

“Elizabeth, calm down. Where are you? I’ll come get you.”

“I-I don’t know.”

“That’s okay, just tell me the street name. I’ll find you.”

“I’m…um…” She walked to the intersecting streets and looked around. “I’m across from St. James Square.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Don’t go anywhere.”

“I won’t.” She held her hand to her mouth, for a moment thinking she was going to be sick. “Niall…I’m scared. I was trying to call a drug dealer.”

“I’m in the car now, love. Just give me ten minutes.”

Elizabeth sank down on a bench, burying her face in her hands. It was a clusterfuck. All she wanted was to be numb and forget the past eight months had ever happened. She wanted those green eyes out of her mind, the feeling of his touch to wash away from her skin. He’d never once stuck up for her in interviews. They kept things private, they never acknowledged anything in the media. Sure, they said they supported each other and loved each other. But that was it. Maybe that was part of the problem; maybe that had been the problem. The hate from everyone around her won out. Maybe the next girl would be luckier.

She burst into fresh tears. Thinking about Harry with someone else was crushing; her chest seized up in waves of flutters, the ripple of a panic attack that was going to going to make her sick. It felt like a bird was bouncing of her breastbone, flapping its wings against her ribs. Her heartbeat sped up and out of proper cadence for several beats. She closed her eyes. God, if only she could go back to that night at the Young Hollywood party. If only she hadn’t seen him sitting with Niall and remarked to Jen how sexy she thought he was. None of this would have happened.

She heard a vehicle slow down on the street in front of her. The window rolled down: Niall. His forehead was rippled in concern and he cocked his head to the car door. “Aw, sweet girl, get in.”

Sniffling, she crawled into the backseat of Niall’s car and buckled her seatbelt. He glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Zayn texted me about the paps tonight. Jesus, is that what started all this?”

“I’m so fucking tired of it, Niall. I can’t stand all the hate and all the lies and all the bullshit. That asshole said he had a picture of Harry making out with someone and I asked him about it. I flat out asked him if he was cheating….I don’t know why, I guess I just needed to hear him say it.”

“Did he?”

“No, he accused me of cheating. It went downhill from there.”

“You just need to talk to him. You can work this out.”

“No, we can’t.” The damn hiccup-y crying was back. She wiped her hands across her cheeks. “I am so tired of it. I can’t handle people wanting me dead just because I’m with him. I’m tired of pretending that it doesn’t hurt.”

“Shh, sweetie, calm down. It’s okay. You don’t have to make any decisions tonight.”

“I just want to go home.” Her voice broke. “But I don’t want to go home to him.”

“I’ll take you to my place. You can stay there tonight and we’ll figure it out in the morning, yeah? It’ll be easier in the morning.”

“Niall…” She looked down at her hands, twisting the sapphire ring around her finger. “There’s something else I have to tell you.”

####

They sat up until three in the morning, Elizabeth pouring her heart out to him about her drug addictions, her failed romances and, most of all, how there was no way she was going to go back to Harry. “It’s over, Niall. He says he’s going to go back to Taylor and if that’s what makes him happy, then I’m all for it. I just want him to be happy.”

Niall reached over and brushed her tears away with his thumb. “He didn’t mean it, you know that.”

She shook her head. “No, he did. He really, truly believes I cheated on him with Lee. I didn’t, Niall. I swear, I’ve never cheated on Harry. Not with anyone.”

“I know.”

“We’ve…ah…we’ve had a rough two weeks or so. He’s stressed out with recording and the upcoming tour and, meanwhile, I’m juggling all this shit with the Oscars and my last movie and what movie to sign on with next. We sit there, for hours at a time, and never speak to each other. I feel like he’s distant, like at some point I did something wrong.”

“You have separate careers. That doesn’t bother him, you know he loves that you’re your own person. You don’t follow him around like your existence depends on him. He supports everything you do.”

“But why doesn’t he make all the hate stop? It’s like, if he ignores it enough that it will just go away. It hasn’t gone away—it’s worse than ever.” She sighed and drew her knees up to her chin. “We moved too fast, didn’t we?”

“I wouldn’t say that. Sometimes, you just know.”

“Niall, I slept with him the night we met.”

“I know. And he was smiles and laughter that next day; he was so happy and talked nonstop about you.” Niall pulled her hands into his and squeezed them. “It’s cheesy because it’s one of our songs, but you two had something that only comes around once in a lifetime.”

“We’re still too young, Niall. It was just puppy love.” She stretched out her arms to her sides and yawned. “I guess I’d better try to sleep a few hours. I’ll call my dad after…uh, you know…and see if I can crash there until I figure out what to do. All his shit is at my house. And the apartment….ugh.”

Niall swung his legs over the bed and stood, plucking up one of his pillows. “You can sleep in here tonight. I’ll take the couch.”

“Niall,” she reached out to him, “can you stay with me? I mean, not sexually…I mean, unless you want to, but just hold me? Just pretend you love me? I…I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“Yeah, sure.” He put his pillow back on the bed and then walked to the door to turn off the light.

Elizabeth snuggled down under the covers, waiting for the rocking motion as he climbed into bed. He seemed hesitant at first, but laid down next to her, pulling her into his arms. They laid in silence for several moments. Feeling him next to her made her feel safe, but it didn’t feel right. Niall wasn’t Harry.

She thought he was asleep but then, softly, she heard him whisper, “I do love you, Elizabeth. I always have…but not as much as Harry did. Not as much as Harry does.”

Tears trickled down her cheeks. Niall was wrong.

Their dream wasn’t going to come true. All the love was gone.

Notes

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