Lost in London

Harry was staring into his cup of tea when Reilly sat down at the end of the table. He appeared to be deep in thought, but his face had a look of overwhelming sadness about it. Not knowing what to say to him, she wrapped her hands around the mug of tea in front of her and let the warmth seep into her skin.

"Why do you take care of her when she is so terrible to you?" he asked finally. He continued to stare into his cup as if the liquid inside knew the answer.

There were a lot of ways she could have answered him, but the best one seemed to be to pour her heart out to him. She spent the next hour telling him more than anyone other than Lexie knew of her relationship with her family. She told him more than she'd told Niall about her mother. She told him more than she'd told Louis about her teenage years. As much as Louis was her best friend, and Niall was Niall, somewhere along the way she and Harry had formed a bond that ran deep.

By the time she finished talking, she felt drained. One of her hands was enveloped in both of Harry's, and he was looking at her with eyes full of sorrow. She bit down on her lip and pleaded with him not to look at her in such a way. Sympathy was something she never asked for. Life was all about obstacles, and she felt she was doing fine overcoming each one that presented itself.

He left a short while later, once he was satisfied that she would be okay for the night, and not before insisting that she keep a spare key to his place in case she needed somewhere to go to get away from her family while the boys were away. Her assertion that she would be fine and refusal to accept the key did not deter him, and he left it on the kitchen counter on his way to the door.

Quiet fell across her small apartment, and she thought that she should check on Fallon, but fell onto the couch instead. She was still in her dress from the party, but couldn't summon the energy to change into pajamas. Just as she had started to drift off, there was a knock at her front door. Her eyes snapped open and she waited a moment to see if she had just imagined it, but sure enough, there was another knock.

A groan escaped her as she rolled off the couch and trudged toward the front door. By the way her heart was racing she knew exactly who was going to be on the other side of it, and wanted nothing more than to ignore the knocking and go to sleep. But she also knew that he would continue knocking until she answered.

She pulled the door open and he stood in front of her, dressed exactly as he had been when she left Louis' party in black straight leg pants, a white button down shirt with a peter pan collar, and a black cardigan sweater. Over it he wore a heavy black coat to keep the chill of the London December air at bay. His entire face was pink, indicating that he'd be drinking, though Reilly doubted he was drunk.

"Can I come in?" he asked, and Reilly shook her head. He sighed quietly, but kept his emotions in check. "Will you come walk with me, then? I want to finish the conversation we were having earlier and I don't think the doorway of your flat is the right place for that," he explained.

She had little energy to argue and convince him to leave, so she excused herself, closing the door for a moment to get her coat and shoes. She grabbed her purse and keys and locked the door from the inside on her way out.

They walked side by side in silence for two blocks before Reilly grew frustrated, and began to go off on him, picking right up where she'd left off at the party. It didn't take long for him to start yelling back. Their voices echoed in the quiet night as they let their Irish tempers get the better of them, going back and forth at each other for several blocks.

It had been a long time since Reilly had fought so passionately with another person. With each minute that passed, she felt the tiny bit of energy she had left draining from her body, until finally hot tears of exhaustion sprung to her eyes. She wiped furiously at them and turned around to run back to the safety of her apartment, leaving Niall alone in the night.

Once she was back home, she remembered that with her sister there, and her father and stepmother not far away, it was anything but safe. She quietly walked down the hall and poked her head into the bedroom, listening carefully to make sure Fallon was still breathing. Satisfied that she was, she closed the bedroom door and made her way back down the hall, and fell onto the couch for the second time that night. It took almost no time for her to find a comfortable position after she pulled the heavy comforter from the back of the couch, and she fell into a sleep riddled with nightmares.

Like clockwork, she woke at the same time she always did. Her apartment was silent around her and she thre off the blanket as she sat up. Her dress was wrinkled and her hair was everywhere. She grabbed her phone from her purse and dialed Louis' number, even though she knew he was still asleep. After waiting patiently for his voicemail the pick up, she left a message explaining how sorry she was for leaving early after the commotion she caused the night before, and begged for his forgiveness. She ended the call with a quiet sigh and dropped her phone onto the couch next to her.

Down the hallway, she heard her bedroom door open and Fallon scurry from the room to the bathroom. The sound of retching floated through the air, and with another sigh, Reilly rose from the sofa and headed for the kitchen to make breakfast.

When Fallon came down the hallway, Reilly slammed a frying pan down on the stove. Fallon jumped and cringed as she took a seat at the table. She was mumbling under her breath, but Reilly paid no attention as she made breakfast. She hit the spatula against the side of the pan several times, set the loudest timer she had, and slammed drawers after she pulled things out of them until finally the older girl had enough.

"Enough already. God, Reilly, you're such a b-"

Reilly slammed the spatula against the frying pan once more for good measure and shot a glare that could kill at her sister. "Such a what, Fallon?" she interrupted. "Go ahead and tell me how awful I am the morning after you caused a scene at my friend's birthday party. A scene that I had to apologize for, since I made the egregious mistake of bringing you along instead of just missing it. Because God forbid you let me enjoy anything, ever," she spat. "You are a terrible human being, and an even worse sibling, and I sincerely hope that when you leave here next week I never lay eyes on you again."

With that, she threw the spatula into the sink and stormed down the short hallway to the bathroom. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as turned on the shower. She was angry and tired, and what she wanted most was to go to sleep and wake up to find that it was all a terrible nightmare. To wake up and find that her father and stepmother and sister were an ocean away. To not be fighting with Niall. But as the scalding water seared her skin, turning it dark pink, she knew it was all too real.

When she got out of the shower, her phone showed three text messages, two missed calls, and two voice mails. Two of the text messages were from Liam, the first saying he would miss her while he was gone, and the second was a picture of him pretending to be incredibly broken up about not seeing her for a week. In spite of herself, and the situation she was in, she laughed, and thanked whatever higher being might exist that Liam was a part of her life. The other text message was from Harry, checking in to let her know that he was leaving London, and making sure she was okay.

The calls were from Zayn, which surprised her a little, and Louis, with voicemails from each. Zayn had called to say he missed getting to say goodbye the night before, and that he would see her when he got back. He also reminded her if she needed anything, to call. A tiny smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and she saved the message before going on to the message from Louis. Her fear was that he would be yell at her, but it was quite the opposite when she listened.

"Ello Love," the message began. His voice was slightly hoarse, like he'd called immediately after waking up. "I know I did not just listen to a message of you apologizing profusely for something that you were in no way at fault for. That would just be ridiculous, now wouldn't it? Though, I admit, I was terribly saddened when I found that you'd left without saying goodbye, and you took Harold with you. Nonetheless, I was overjoyed you made an appearance, however brief it may have been. It would not have been the same without you. Call me later if you'd like, and I'll see you in about a week. Love you, bye."

By the end of the message, his voice was a little clearer, and her heart felt a little lighter. She stayed in her room for the rest of the morning and the entire afternoon. Fallon came back to get some clothes to change into, but didn't say a word to Reilly. She stayed in her room when she heard her father and stepmother come into the apartment that evening. It was only when she heard all three of them leave that she emerged.

She hadn't eaten all day, but was surprisingly not hungry. Instead of going into the kitchen to make something to eat, she went to couch and plopped down onto it. As she grabbed for the remote, an envelope she hadn't left on the coffee table caught her eye, and she reached over and picked it up. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw her name written on it in what was unmistakably her mother's handwriting.

Reilly stared at the envelope for a long time before turning it over. She stared at the back of it, and turned it back over to look at the writing on the front once again. She blinked, making sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her, and then turned it back over again. She slid her finger under the flap, and it opened easily.

There were several pages inside, and she pulled out the piece of lined paper first and carefully unfolded it, having no idea what to expect. The date on the page was June 13, 2007, just six months before her mother died. With a deep breath, she let her eyes drift over the words written on the page in front of her.

Reilly, my darling,
I hoped it would never come to this, writing the words and explaining the reason for your father's behavior all these years, but it seems that it has. It breaks my heart. I don't know if I will ever have the courage to give this letter to you, but the first step is to write it. From there, I don't know what I will do.
I know your father has always been distant from you. He shows your sister much more warmth and understanding, and you must know it is not because of anything you have purposely done. Fourteen years ago I was violently attacked. The details aren't important. Shortly after that happened I found out I was pregnant with you.
You may be thinking now that your father's reasons for being the way he is with you involve you not being his. You are. You are mine, and you are his. The timing of the attack and the date of your birth make it impossible for you to be a product of that. Unfortunately, your father has always felt that you are.
He is a stubborn man, and never would listen to reason. I always believed that once you came he would see you and love you. Unfortunately what he sees when he looks at you is a reminder of what happened to me, and what took the sparkle from my eyes.
Since before you were even born, you have always been what lights my path. You led me through the darkest days, and the longest tunnels. To this day, you light the entire world around me, as you will for the rest of my life.
Love, with all my heart,
Mama

Tears were pouring down Reilly's face by the time she finished reading the letter. So many of the questions she'd asked herself for years had finally been answered, but now a slew of new questions ran through her mind. With a sniffle, she pulled the other pages from the envelope, wondering what else her mother could have put in with the letter. What unfolded in front of her was the results of a paternity test, probably done without her father's knowledge, proving that he was, without doubt, biologically her father.

She didn't know how long she stared at those results before she finally reached for her phone. There had never been a question in her mind as to whether or not he was her father, so what the paper in front of her said wasn't shocking. It was the idea that the man who had played a role in giving her life never believed that he had, and therefore could never find it in himself to love her, that shattered her insides.

Wiping away some of the wetness from her face, she dialed Liam's number. She couldn't remember when he'd said he was leaving, and he was the one she felt like she needed the most right then. The line rang three times in her ear before he picked up.

"Hi Love," he said, sounding incredibly cheerful.

Reilly's stomach dropped, and she suddenly felt like she'd made a huge mistake in calling him. "Hey Liam," she said, trying to match his cheer, but her wavering voice gave her away. He instantly questioned what was wrong, but she denied having any real problem. "I'm just having a long day, and I wanted to see if you'd left already," she told him.

"I have. I'm sorry," he said, concern still evident in his tone. "I think Niall's still there, though. His flight's been canceled and the next one he could get isn't until tomorrow evening," he told her.

Not wanting to draw out the conversation any longer, Reilly thanked him, and wished him happy holidays before hanging up. She immediately called Louis, but she got his voicemail. The anxiety of the situation was building again as she opened Skype on her phone. Louis' name was lit up, indicating he was available, and she tapped her screen to call him. Within moments his face, bright and excited, appeared on the screen.

"Are you still in London?" she questioned immediately, not remembering when he'd said he was leaving either.

"Nope. I'm home in Doncaster," he said. "You look like you're having a Hell of a night and need a friend," he commented. "Call Niall. He's in London until tomorrow."

All the frustration and hurt that had built up inside of Reilly exploded. "I can't call Niall, we're in a huge fight. God, Louis. You're so stupid," she yelled, tears streaming down her face.

Louis' mouth dropped open and he stared at her in disbelief for a quick moment. "Okay, I'm going to let that go this time not only because you're obviously going through something right now, but also because Mean Girls is a great film. Do you want to talk about it, Love?" he asked.

Instead of giving a verbal answer, Reilly shook her head as she aggressively wiped at her face and then hung up the Skype call. Alone in her quiet apartment, she curled up on the couch and cried into her hands, her arms, the cushions, and her blanket. She cried for herself, for the broken heart she'd been nursing for years, for the void she'd carried her entire life. She cried until she couldn't breathe, and then sat up and staggered into the kitchen to get some water.

She was just composing herself when the door to her apartment opened, and her sister walked in, followed by her father and stepmother. Rage coursed through her veins and she sped back to the living room and grabbed the papers from the coffee table before storming up to her father.

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but I am, in fact, biologically yours. Here's your proof," she said and threw the papers in his face.

She didn't wait for a response before storming out of the tiny apartment. Her pounding heart sped up as she walked down the street, tears raining down her face once again. The rush of adrenaline she'd had was starting to wear off and she slowed her pace, but her heart continued to race.

Just as she was about to cross the street, a taxi pulled over. Niall jumped out and hurried toward her. At the sight of her, her gently grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. Through her clothes, his touch burned her skin and she pushed him away. "Don't touch me," she yelled at him.

"Reilly, please," he pleaded with her, but she wouldn't even let him get out a complete thought.

"Stay away from me, Niall. I can take care of myself," she snapped.

Niall let out a heavy sigh, but refused to give up. "You don't really look like you can right now, Reilly. I know you're angry with me, but it's cold, and it's dark, and you need somewhere to go," he said. "Stop being so damn headstrong and get in the car."

It didn't take more than a few seconds for her to realize he was right. Feeling defeated and exhausted, she walked toward the car. "Fine. But don't touch me, and don't talk to me," she said.

He held the door open for her and he nodded at her as she slid in. "Whatever you say, Darlin'."