Closer

Another month wore on. Laurel seemed to be doing better. Her and Louis were talking freely, there was a smile on her face most of the time, and she always told Louis that she loved him. But Louis knew that Laurel was constantly avoiding the subject. She never talked about it at all, which made Louis worry.

Especially since he was leaving to go on tour. He hated doing this when things were going great. He couldn’t bare the thought of having to leave Laurel while she was in the state of mind. But it wasn’t like he could put his job on hold. There was no way to be flexible.

"I want you to talk to someone." He told her as he packed his suitcase. Laurel was perched on the bed, watching his movements.

"I’m talking to you." She offered, and pulled one his shirts out so that she could fold it properly. Louis smiled at her tendency to be a perfectionist.

"I made you an appointment with the therapist." He informed her and disappeared into the closet to grab more items.

"I don’t need a therapist, Louis. I'm not crazy." She huffed, placing the shirt back into the suitcase.

"I never said you were crazy, but you need help sorting yourself out." He said, walking back over to the bed and putting more clothes in the bag. He gave her an apologetic look that she rolled her eyes at.

"If I want help, I'll get it myself. I don't need you doing it for me." She said through clenched teeth.

"But you need help and you aren’t doing anything about it." He countered, flipping the case closed and zipping it up. He picked it up off the bed and set it on the ground, feeling Laurel’s glare on him the whole time.

"I don't need help!" She demanded, standing up from the bed and storming out of the room. Louis grabbed his suitcase and followed her out of the room.

"Laurel, it's been almost two months. You haven't said anything about it. You're like a robot, I know you haven’t gotten over this." He shouted to her as they walked down the stairs.

"We're doing fine, Louis. We're still married, we still do things together. I don’t need a therapist to tell me how to live my life." She stopped halfway down and turned on him, pointing a finger into his face.

"We're still married and we haven’t had sex in nearly three months!" He reminded her.

"So you want to me see a therapist because you're horny?" She reeled and stormed off again. Louis dropped his bag at the bottom of the stair and followed her into the living room.

"No, I want you to see a therapist because you have an anxiety attack every time things start to get physical.” He insisted, catching up to her and grabbing her arm. She immediately pulled it out of his grip.

“I do not have an anxiety attack.” She said forcefully, glaring at him with more contempt.

“And you won’t talk to me about anything important. I’ve been making small talk with you for two months, and it is really getting old.” He said, shaking his head.

“Well then stop talking to me!” She screamed and threw her arms into the air. She tried to walk away but Louis grabbed her arm again.

“How the hell can you say that we’re doing okay, Laurel? Look at us!” He demanded, waving a finger between the two of them, indicating that they were a big problem.

“We are doing fine.” She said in a low voice that made Louis shiver.

“No, we aren’t.” He contended.

“You know what? Fuck you, Louis! I am sick of you thinking that you can fix everything! You seriously need to just back off.” She yelled, poking him in the chest roughly.

“I’m not trying to fix you, I’m trying to help you move on!” He unintentionally shouted. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel victimized, but he couldn’t help it. She was really making him mad.

“I am moving on!” She shrieked, her voice raising a few octaves. Louis flinched at the unpleasant sound.

“Are you? Because I have been in the dark for months, trying to pretend like things are getting better but they aren’t.” Louis countered, trying to make her understand that she was acting ridiculous.

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t need you to help me move on? Maybe I can do it by myself.” She said, her voice quivering with anger.

“Wow. Is that the way marriage works nowadays? Every man for himself?” He mused sarcastically.

“Maybe I don’t need you.” She said, shaking her head.

“Have you forgotten that I’m your husband? We’re supposed to figure this stuff out together.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have gotten married.” She said, meeting his eyes with coldness. That was it. She had found the words that would break him. He never imagined hearing those words come out of her mouth. After all the time he had spent doubting their relationship, hearing that she shared the doubt made him shatter.

Louis blinked several times, trying to process what had just happened. Laurel held her ground, her eyes burning holes into his. He stepped back slowly with his hand up, his actions signifying his surrender. He gave her one last look before he turned and left the room.

He picked up his suitcase from the bottom of the stairs and went straight for the door. His face was expressionless as he pulled it open, wincing at the sunlight. It was such a contrast from the darkness in the house. He pulled it shut behind him with more force than was necessary. But neither Laurel nor Louis heard it. The silence was much louder than a slamming door.



“I don’t know what Harry told you, Liam, but I’m not doing this whole sob story thing all over again.” Laurel told the brown-eyed man in her living room. After Louis’ lie on television he was determined to stop this whole divorce nonsense.

“Great. Then you can listen.” He replied and patted the seat next to him on the couch. Laurel rolled her eyes and took a seat. She really needed to tell her mother to stop letting in random popstars.

“What could you possible have to say that I haven’t already heard?” She asked, slouching into the cushions.

“I’m not going to tell you that I understand, or that I feel bad for you. Because I don’t. I don’t give a flying fuck how you feel. Because you are a selfish bitch who is breaking Louis’ heart and I will not stand by and watch it for one more second.” He said calmly, crossing his leg over his knee.

Laurel’s mouth fell open. She had never heard Liam curse so many times. He had surely never cursed directly at her either. She didn’t reply, she just tucked her legs into her chest and let him continue.

“I don’t know what I feels like to me married, or to want kids, and I don’t know what it feels like not to be able to have them. But I do know what it feels like to be left in the dust by the woman I love.” He said, glancing over at her to make sure she was listening.

“And I can tell you from experience, it fucking sucks. And if you think that he will get over it, you are sadly mistaken. You don’t get over something like that. You don’t get over someone leaving you with unanswered questions. I know you are a strong person, Laurel. You’ve always been so independent. But you seem to have forgotten that you allowed someone into your life to be your partner, your companion. And that person is Louis. And you better believe that when you are in pain, so is he.”

So I don’t care how much it hurts, Laurel. You aren’t suffering alone and I think you are the worst kind of person for giving up on Louis just because you’re a little sad. I know you love him, so how in your right mind could you think that divorcing him is the best option?” Liam looked into her eyes, trying to elicit a response.

“I-“ She started.

“No, you can’t explain it, because there is no explanation. Because it is the worst idea I have ever heard. You have absolutely no right to leave him. You owe it to him as his wife to go back to him and work it out. Maybe you’re marriage is supposed to end, I don’t know. But you need to try. Louis deserves so much more that what you have given him.”

“You are a very intelligent woman, Laurel. Don’t make me think otherwise. Grow up and do the right thing for gods sake.” He finished and stood up from the couch, leaving Laurel astonished.

Liam bid her goodnight and left her in the room alone.