Broken Things

The restaurant we found ourselves at in Venice was quaint, to say the least. Cafe 50’s was exactly what one would expect of the name; red vinyle booths with white sleek tables, a long coffee bar with red stools lining it. Even the walls were wallpapered with cutouts of the likes of Marilyn Monroe and Elvis, with various pieces of artwork and memorabilia.

After dropping off Ashley’s dog back at her town home, she declared she was absolutely <i>starved</i>. As a girl, I saw straight through her attempt to spend more time with Dec, but obviously wasn’t about to say anything.

They sat on one side of the booth with me on the other, lightly chatting like they had been earlier in the day. I zoned out as I stared down at my menu and tried to figure out something to eat despite the fact that I wasn’t hungry.

“What do you do, Sawyer?”

Ashley’s voice broke through my haze and I glanced up at her, somewhat startled. She smiled at me patiently as I cleared my throat.

“Nothing right now. I’m just starting to settle in.”

“How are you planning to afford an apartment on your own?” she asked, somewhat incredulous.

I couldn’t see Declan’s hand, but I saw the muscles in his bicep flex as he moved it to squeeze her knee in warning. My eyes flashed to him and he dropped his gaze guiltily.

“I have a bit of inheritence money from my mom,” I told her.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Did she pass recently?”

I nodded.

“Well, I know we just met, but if you ever need a girl’s day or anything to take your mind off it all, I’m available.”

I smiled at her offer, the genuine tone in her voice. It made me feel better, if only just slightly, to have met someone new. It was nice to have someone who wasn’t a constant reminder of the past.

The waitress came around then, asking for our orders. I settled on a peanut butter and chocolate shake with an order of cheese fries. Declan and Ashley both opted for breakfast for dinner.

I couldn’t be sure why there was an unsettling feeling making a home deep in my stomach. With Declan otherwise occupied with Ashley, I busied myself with breaking apart my straw wrapper in pieces.

Maybe I didn’t have as much figured out as I liked to pretend.

A job would definitely be on my to-do list, but I wasn’t sure if I was fully ready to commit to something like that. My options seemed bleak, and while waitressing had been something I’d done back in the U.K., L.A. was a completely different ballpark. In Holmes Chapel, you catered to the old folks home every Wednesday night. In L.A., there was no telling what sort of clientele I’d be forced to deal with.

On top of the apartment hunt, I’d have to deal with this whole job situation as well as Declan’s growing fondness for this girl I’d just met.

It dawned on me I’d be alone again.

But isn’t that what I had wanted? Isn’t that what I had grown used to and became comfortable with?

“What’s wrong?”

It was Declan’s voice this time that pulled me back to reality.

“Nothing,” I responded immediately, but Declan was frowning at me like he knew better. I mustered up a brave face and offered him a smile. “Really. Don’t worry about me.”

He sighed, still disbelieving, but knowing whatever it was was probably something I didn’t want to discuss in front of a guest.

When my shake arrived, I dug straight in, more ravenous than I had initially anticipated. Ashley watched in slight amusement, but offered me a grin when I caught her looking. Not soon after, their meals and my fries were placed on the table.

I was mid-way through my first bite when Declan’s phone began to ring. Ashley glanced over at him, but otherwise appeared not to care. Still, after peeking at the caller ID, Dec hit the ignore button before apologizing to the two of us.

A moment later, it began buzzing again. Frowning, he lifted the phone to his ear.

“I’m a little busy,” he told whoever it was. A pause, and then, “No. Not yet.”

I tried to focus on shoving cheese fries into my mouth. The caller could have been any number of people, but I had a sinking feeling about who it was. This was confirmed when Declan glanced temporarily at me.

“That sounds like a terrible idea,” he chuckled lightly into the phone, but he was rubbing his temple as he let whoever was on the other end continue what they were saying.

“Maybe, but we’ll see where the night takes us. Let me think about it, okay?”

I frowned as I finished off my cheese fries and proceeded to reach across the table for a swig of Declan’s coke. He tried to swat me away as he hung up, but I was too quick and he only had one free hand. After setting the drink back down in front of an unamused Declan, it was my turn to be annoyed.

“On babysitting duty?”

“Sawyer, you know it’s not like that,” he sighed. Ashley shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“Sounded like it.”

“He’s worried about you and wanted to know how you’re doing.”

“I’m fan-fucking-tastic, thanks for asking.”

Declan narrowed his eyes at me as I glared straight back at him. Ashley reached forward for my shake and I let her have it without complaint. At this point, she might have needed it more than I did.

“Can we not do this right now?” he asked, exhasperated.

As if he had the right. As if he’d spent the last four years by his dying mum’s bedside with no one around. As if he’d fallen off the radar of the one person who had mattered most to him in the world and watched them become the most recognized face in pop culture. As if he’d been left behind in a foreign country with no one to help plan a funeral. As if he’d moved across an ocean in the hopes of starting new only to be pulled down by the past.

As if it weren’t all about to happen again.

Declan’s face turned to one of horror. Ashley reached across the table for me and that’s when I realized I had started crying.

Wordlessly, I pushed out of the booth and made a break for the door, ignoring both their voices as they called after me.

The air was cool outside, the way it got in late June when the sun had set. This backward city with its lack of seasons, a desert state with a windchill. This wasn’t home. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

I pushed around the corner into a small crevice between the cafe and the antique shop beside it, my back hitting the brick of the building as I slid down to the cracked pavement. With my head resting against my knees, I tried to force deep breaths.

There wasn’t a moment that went by that I didn’t wish my mum was still alive, but I had never felt it as strongly as I did then. She would take me in her arms and brush her fingers through my hair and let me get it out, and only when I was ready, she’d ask me what was the matter.

I wanted to tell her how broken in two I felt. Torn between wanting to be strong and independent and also needing someone there to rely on. I’d grown accustomed to withstanding the wind and the rain singularly, but it was starting to get tiring.

I felt a pair of arms wrap around me and let out an embarrassingly loud sob. Still, I moved forward into the body that was crouching in front of me without a second’s hesitation. Declan’s scent was somewhat comforting, as were the words he was whispering in my ear as he rubbed my shoulders.

We sat there that way for what seemed like an eternity, but couldn’t have been much longer than five minutes. He didn’t say anything besides the quiet, “It’s okay”s and “Everything’s fine”s. When I finally pulled back and let my weight slump back against the brick, trying to take deep breaths, he moved to sit beside me with his hand resting firmly on my knee.

“I miss her,” I finally blurted after a moment. “And I miss home.”

Declan nodded, eyes respectfully focused on the ground while I wiped at my smearing make-up.

“Can I ask why you left?”

I sniffed before running a hand through my hair. The question was simple enough, but the answer felt like lead weighing on my tongue.

“Because it stopped feeling like home when she died.”

Declan’s hand moved from my knee to inch around my neck. I leaned forward as he threw it over my shoulder, taking the opportunity to lean into him again.

“Sawyer, it’s not a location that makes a place feel like home. It’s the people. <i>We</i> care about you. L.A. can be your home. I don’t understand why you feel like you have to do this on your own,” he said softly.

“He told me he still loved me when he left.”

I’m not sure what prompted me to say it, but it left my mouth before I could stop it. I peeked up at Declan through wet eyelashes, but he didn’t seem surprised in the slightest as he stared right back at me.

“You doubted he had?”

I shrugged.

“Made a pretty convincing argument.”

Declan shook his head, but I wasn’t done talking yet.

“Everyone I love goes away. Everyone who loves me goes away.”

“I’m sitting right here,” he argued. “And Harry’s trying so hard, Sawyer.”

“You have Ashley now. Harry has... Well, he has the world. I don’t have anything. I don’t even have a place to call my own,” I replied.

“It doesn’t work like that. It’s not one thing or the other. It isn’t Ashley or Sawyer. It isn’t One Direction or Sawyer. I can have both. Harry can have both. It doesn’t mean we love you less. You just have to stop pushing us away.”

I sucked in a deep breath as I buried my face into his shoulder. His hand squeezed my arm reassuringly. A moment later, I sat up, rubbing my face as if to regain feeling.

“Where’s Ashley?” I asked, remembering my manners.

“She’s waiting in the car. Didn’t want to intrude.”

“I should apologize,” I declared, pushing myself up. Declan was quick to follow, brushing off his pants where he stood.

“You don’t need to apologize. No one should have to deal with this alone. Just please try to get out of that mindset that it’s better to close yourself off, because we’re not leaving you. And if you’d give him the chance, I’m sure Harry is more than ready to prove that to you, too.”

With nothing else to say, I simply bit down on my lip and met his gaze. It was as close to acceptance as he’d get from me, and he must have sensed that because with yet another sigh, he reached for my hand and led me the way toward the car.

–
The next day found me in Santa Monica yet again, but this time with less fun. Skeptically, I frowned at Declan as I crossed my arms over my chest.

“You loved it last time,” he told me.

“I just don’t understand why you’re doing this,” I answered.

He’d woken me up that morning with a tall cup of coffee and a bagel, declaring we were going apartment hunting. Somehow, I’d rolled out of bed, devoured breakfast, and followed him out the door before I’d realized Declan was very distinctly anti-Sawyer-moving.

He stared back at me with an even expression, shutting the driver’s side door as he leaned against the hood of his car to watch me. I stood on the other side with my arms crossed, examining him carefully.

“You need to find a happy medium,” he explained. “You want to feel independent, and I get that. But that doesn’t mean you have to be alone. So we find you an apartment so you have your space, but make sure you’re hanging out with us in the meantime.”

“No, Dec. There is no us. I never agreed to anything.”

Declan rolled his eyes as he shoved the keys into his pocket, gesturing for me to follow him down a ramp toward an elevator that would take us out of the parking garage we’d found ourselves in. Reluctantly, I trailed behind.

“There’s a decent flat around the corner. We should check it out, then grab lunch at this pub down the street. Over-the-top British pub, but I think you’ll like it.”

He was trying to make me feel better, but it felt vaguely like coddling. Still, I wasn’t in a position to argue with him after all he’d done for me and the things he’d said, so I indulged him as we made our way to the ground floor.

He seemed somewhat chipper as he navigated the streets, away from the beach and further into the city where a few buildings housed more expensive-looking apartments. Santa Monica seemd like a cool enough place for a visit when it came to shopping or browing the pier, but I wasn’t sold on it as a place to live.

“Dec, I’m not even sure I want to live this far out,” I told him. He paused in his step to look over his shoulder at me.

“Do you want to just go somewhere else...?”

He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, and it was then that I realized he was walking on eggshells around me. The guilt settled deep in my ribcage, realizing I’d been all over the place with him.

“We came all this way. Might as well look at it,” I backtracked. He nodded in agreement, offering me a slight smile before continuing to lead the way.

I’d been hurting, probably more than I had realized, and along the way had unintentionally been treating those around me like shit. That realization hit me hard. Declan had been absolutely right; I was pushing everyone away. And while it’s true that I’d been through a lot, come through so much, it was no excuse for me to be so defensive around Declan all the time.

And maybe, just maybe, I’d been a little harsh on Harry.

We paused in front of a complex at a corner. It wasn’t nearly as nice as those closer to the beach or the promenade, but it wasn’t exactly a dump, either. He raised an eyebrow at me before pulling open the door and letting me enter first.

It was immediately apparent that this place wasn’t my style. It was too modern, too upscale. Declan frowned as he pulled off his sunglasses, glancing around the lobby as an apartment manager rose from her seat to greet us. Glancing at me apologetically, he explained to the woman he’d set up an appointment earlier in the morning and we’d arrived for the showing.

I followed blindly behind both of them as we were led to a lift and rode up a couple floors to the flat. The manager was rattling on about location and square footage, but I’d already retreated into myself, disinterested in this place Declan had found.

Was this what I had become? One of those self-centered girls so filled with rage and hatred that she could burst without warning? One of those girls who were completely fine one moment and hysterically crying the next? When had I become so lost?

I pondered these things as I walked beside Declan, hearing but not really listening to the light chatter he made with the apartment manager. I’m not even sure the manager knew it was I who was looking for apartments, not Dec, but she seemed to enjoy conversing with him nonetheless.

Watching Declan in his natural state, easily talking to someone and coaxing them into opening up to him, really was a wonder. I could recall times at parties when I’d sit beside him quietly, just watching him as he spoke. It was always so easy for him and I’d never understood it.

As we shuffled from room to room and the manager explained the reason the price was so low was because they hadn’t had the time to remodel this module yet, I invested time in watching him again. When we were younger, girls used to ask me all the time how I hadn’t fallen under his charm and laid-back attitude. I’d just shrugged and rolled my eyes, but the truth was I’d been trapped by a dimpled smirk and the green eyed gaze of another boy.

Even before we were dating, I’d never recieved the same sort of question about Harry, why I hadn’t fallen for him. It was apparent to everyone at that point that I already had.

Declan’s hand setting lightly on my shoulder woke me from my thoughts. I’d stopped in the kitchen, which had a window overlooking the beach in the far distance. Caught up in the past and the view, I was startled. Dec smiled apologetically at me.

“Not your style?” he asked.

I shook my head, offering him a slight smile. He shrugged, gesturing with his head toward the door. We remained in a content silence, each engulfed in our own thoughts, until we arrived at Ye Olde King’s Head. Only when we were seated across from each other, scanning the menu, did I ask him why he’d chosen that place to take me to.

At first, he didn’t respond. I couldn’t be sure that he heard me, until he sat down the menu and glanced over at me, folding his hands on the table.

“That day we came here together, you were so genuinely happy. I thought maybe it would be a good environment for you to be in.”

I shook my head, scrunching my nose slightly.

“Too far away from you. I can’t drive, remember?”

He half-smiled before taking a sip of water, apparently pleased that his location in relation to mine was something that mattered to me. I sucked in a deep breath, not done talking yet.

“I’m sorry.”

Declan raised his eyebrows at my admission, then let them fall into a furrow.

“For what?”

“For being all over the place with you. I haven’t been a good friend to you lately and I’m sorry.”

He was already shaking his head at me, opening his mouth to respond.

“It’s not your fault, Sawyer. I’ve been putting you under a lot of pressure lately and I should have known better. It was only a matter of time before you got fed up with me.”

“I’ve been bitter and I’m tired of feeling that way all the time. I’m sorry for acting like I have.”

He didn’t make a response this time. He didn’t really need to. It occurred to me that he wasn’t letting me apologize because he thought I’d done anything wrong; clearly he didn’t. He was letting me apologize because he knew it was something I needed to do for myself. Of course I was forgiven, he didn’t blame me in the first place.

The waitress came over to take our orders, smiling at Declan’s authentic accent and the slight lilt I’d uncovered in my American accent in the seven years I’d lived in the U.K. My speaking habits had always landed somewhere between American and British, but it was usually to my advantage, a total ice breaker at a party.

When the waitress took our menus and retreated, I turned back to Declan, who was already watching me expectantly, as if he could sense there was more I wanted to say. Biting down on my lip, I contemplated my next move. I finally gathered up the strength to say it, blurting it out before I could stop myself.

“What really happened four years ago, Dec?”

His gaze fell from me like I’d burned him. He folded and unfolded his straw wrapper as he tried to figure out how to best address what had just left my mouth.

“I’m not sure that’s really my place to say,” he admitted after a few moments.

“I need to hear it from you. You’re most unbiased in the situation.”

He snorted before reaching forward for his drink. After a few sips, he sighed defeatedly.

“It was just proper bad timing. Sixteen is the most inconvenient time to be in love with someone, especially with Harry headed in the direction he was going. He tortured himself over it for weeks before he finally did it, and it wasn’t easy for him. After everything happened, you were banned from discussion.”

“I was banned from discussion?” I quirked a brow.

Declan nodded.

“I tried a couple times to talk to him about you, just to keep him updated. I even tried to tell him about your mum, but any time I brought it up, I was immediately shot down. He took it really hard.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair.

“And now?” I asked.

Declan returned his gaze to me, his blue eyes steady and sure.

“Now he just wants desperately to be around you again. It’s what he’s always wanted.”