Let's Pretend It's Love

Everything was ruined.

Everything was ruined and it was all my fault. I knew for sure that all the lies I’d told over the past few months would eventually catch up to me but I never expected things to end so horribly. I could pray and hope that things would magically fall together and work out but I knew for a fact that the wounds I’d caused were a bit too deep to just slap a band-aid over.

I had to fix this and I had not even the slightest idea how.

I hadn’t heard a single word form Harry since our conversation. He hadn’t bothered to call and despite how horrible I felt after seeing him so low, neither did I. I felt it was better this way, not having contact. I honestly didn’t know what to say without making things worse. If truth be told, things between Harry and I were the least of my troubles at the moment. I was far more concerned with facing the wrath of Jess. The day after my birthday I called in sick, claiming to be nursing a nasty hangover only for Murray to answer the phone. I’d already been scheduled for a day off for that Saturday and on Monday and Tuesday, Jessa hadn’t even bothered to show up. As relieved as I felt, I knew for sure I wouldn’t be able to hide for long.

It was Wednesday and I was hoping for at least a half decent day. I was feeling quite peckish this morning and had managed to get out of the flat in enough time to grab a pasty, scarfing it down on the way to work. I’d arrived earlier than usual as it was my morning to open shop but as I stuck my key in the door, I soon realized that it was already unlocked. My unusually relaxed mood was replaced with instant panic, afraid that I’d failed to lock up the previous night. I took a deep breath, pulling open the heavy glass door. My eyes swept across the room, searching for anything abnormal. The shelves and displays were as neat as they were the previous day. The lights were on and there was a commotion in the back room.

That’s when it all clicked.

The only two people that had a key to the shop were Jess and myself. That meant two things:

1. Jessa was here.

and

2. I have just entered the gates of hell.

My stomach instantly twisted into knots of anxiety as I took small steps towards the counter. Maybe I’m overreacting, maybe Jessa’s not so angry anymore and everything will be okay. I placed my handbag on the sales counter and reluctantly unraveled the scarf around my neck. As if to spite me, Jessa appears, sauntering up to the cash register with her usual coffee. She locks eyes with my briefly before adverting her gaze. I stared blankly, trying hard to control whatever concoction of feelings were brewing in my stomach and not even bothering to take off my coat.

“Good morning.” she chirps.

Her face looks normal and she doesn’t sound angry. Maybe it’s safe.

I let out a sigh of relief, running my fingers through my hair.

“Morning.” I replied.

As I maneuvered around the counter I couldn’t help but think of how awkward this all was. Jessa and I had never not talked to each other for so long. Sure we had petty arguments but never anything this serious. Never anything boy related.

I grabbed my stool, making sure to leave an appropriate distance between us. Jessa stooped down, reaching in a cubby and retreiving a magazine. She flipped through the pages whilst sipping through her coffee, not even bothering to look at me. All this time I was expecting Jess to rip my head off as soon as I walked through the door but she’d totally turned the tables on me. This silent treatment was scaring me.

After sometime her thumb stops on a glossy Channel advert and she clears her throat.

“So, birthday went well?” she questioned, her voice soft and plain.

Uh,oh.

“No, not really.” I replied, honestly.

Despite what Jessa thinks, this birthday was probably my worse one yet.

I nervously stared down at my cuticles hoping the conversation wasn’t going the way I thought it would.

She goes back to her coffee, her gaze fixed on the same Channel advert as she taps her nails against the faux marble countertops.

“It was him, wasn’t it?”

My eyebrows furrow and my throat goes dry.

“What?” I croak.

“Your secret admirer, the bloke who sent you flowers. It was Harry, yeah?”

The mention of his name makes my stomach twist and my veins burn with mixed emotions. I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Yeah?” I reply, although it comes out as more of a question than a response.

“So much for not ‘entertaining the possibility of relationships’, yeah? That was just a cover up so that I wouldn’t find out you two were playing house?”

I almost want to laugh at how vastly Jessa’s blowing this out of proportion but I can’t help but think that’s she’s actually right. In the months past, Harry and I had become an expert at the game of 'house’. Staying over at each other’s flats, sleeping in the same bed, heated make out sessions that often pushed the envelop a bit further and staying at his mum’s for the holidays. We’d pretty much done everything girlfriends and boyfriends do when we were supposed to be maintaining a strictly platonic relationship.

“Jessa, you don’t think I knew?!” I sighed. “I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at Harry since day one. I-”

“Exactly!” she interrupts hopping up from her stool. “And you couldn’t wait for the perfect moment to snatch him away from me!”

Why does everyone keep insisting I stole Harry away?? People are not objects to steal.

I let out a sigh of frustration.

“I did not actively pursue him, Jess! It just kind of happened. I knew how you felt and I tried to match you two up at your Christmas party but he kept resisting it. I would never maliciously try to 'steal’ him away!”

Her expression remains blank for a moment and her eyes narrow into tiny slits.

“You didn’t give a shit about the way I felt. It didn’t stop you.” she folds her arms across her chest letting her words sink in.

Why didn’t I stop?

I pinched the bridge of my nose with another sigh.

“This is stupid, Jess. We’ve been friends for too long. Why let some boy come and ruin that?” I questioned.

“Harry didn’t ruin our friendship,” she pauses to swipe her tongue against her bottom lip. “you did.”

The words sound like a death sentence coming out of her mouth.

“I can’t work with you anymore. Not like this,” she continues.

My heart sinks. Her expression is still angry but much softer.

“Jess, you don’t-”

“Consider yourself redundant.”

I can barely even find my words.

“Redundant? Jessa- that’s so heartless.” I scoffed.

She stares at me blankly, unbothered by my words.

“I just want you to go. Maybe we’ll talk later but right now, we can’t be friends.”

I can feel the tears stinging the corner of my eyes but I won’t let them fall. I don’t want her to see me cry. Instead of responding I just gather my things and storm out the shop, the brass bell lulling behind me. The bustle of traffic and the busy sidewalk all appears as a blur to me. My head feels dizzy and I almost feel as if I’m having an outer body experience. As if I’m not really in the present, but I am and I wish I was not.

I never thought that one stupid lie would make me loose my job and my best friend.

*****

Now that I was currently unemployed I had all the time in the world to sit around and be my usual pathetic self.

I knew for sure that I couldn’t spend it sulking, I had to figure out whatever the hell I was going to do to live. I couldn’t keep up the expenses of my flat with no job. There was no way I was going back home with mum and dad. I’d have to explain everything to them and right now I couldn’t handle my mother’s judgement. Maybe I could crash with Penny and Liam for a while but I knew that with the wedding fast approaching that probably wouldn’t be the best option.

I had to figure out something and I had to figure it out quick.

I was so emotionally exhausted that I spent the rest of the morning and a vast majority of the afternoon in bed. I didn’t sleep, I didn’t cry. I just lied in bed contemplating my poor life choses and debating on wether or not I should strangle myself with my duvet. I’d lost track of all time when I heard my phone buzz, muffled by the sheets. My hand palmed the duvet, roaming around lazily until I successfully retrieved it. I squinted my eyes, trying to adjust them to the bright screen of my phone in my dim room. I’ve got an unread text message from Harry. My stomach sinks as I tap my thumb on the unread message.

Can we talk?Hx

I sigh. It’s the last thing I want to do right now. I wouldn’t mind if I never talked to anyone ever again for as long as I live.

Sure….

I stare blankly at the screen, waiting for his response. It’s not long before a new message appears.

Like, in person, I mean.Hx

I don’t reply because I don’t think I’m in the right head space to see Harry in person. Not after all that’s happened today.

Please?Hx

Fine.

I don’t want to move from my bed but I figure I might as well get whatever this is over with.

My place, say six? HX

Okay.

Tonight is the night. Tonight is the night that I let everything go.

It’s dark out by the time I arrive at Harry’s flat. There’s a cool draft in the hall of his floor and I’m standing outside his door, staring at the crooked numbers wondering if I should turn around. With a deep breath I rap my knuckles against the door and return my focus back to my boots. I don’t have time to collect myself before the door swings open.

“Hi.”

Even though it’s only been days since I’ve last heard his voice it nearly feels like forever.

I stare up at him, forcing a smile. He’s clean shaven and looks relaxed in a plain white t-shirt, his green eyes bright and his curls messy.

“Hey.”

He returns the grin, exposing the dimples I love so much. This feels so awkward standing there and staring at each other when weeks ago we’d be locking lips right now.

“Wanna come in?” his eyebrows raise as he opens the door wide enough for me to walk through.

I don’t look at him as I step over the threshold. It’s warm inside and smells faintly of peppermint. I shrug out of my coat, hanging it on the coat rack next to one of Harry’s hats. The pillows on his sofa are in a bit of disarray as well as some of the items on his bookshelf. I like it that he doesn’t tidy up for me, that we’re comfortable enough with each other to not care. I like the lived in look. It feels like home.

“Have you eaten?” he questions, breaking the silence. “I can make us dinner or we could order something in. Whatever you like.”

I rub my palms against my jeans, not bothering to sit down.

“I’m not hungry.” I retorted.

“Well then, cuppa?”

I trap my bottom lip between my teeth. I wish he’d stop being so nice and beautiful. I wish he’d yell at me, tell what a horrible person I am.

“I can get it myself.”

With that I walk past him, sauntering over to his kitchen. The dim stove light is turned on and I can spot the polaroids we took during Christmas on his refrigerator. There’s one with the both of us in matching Christmas jumpers, another of me taken outside in the snow as I attempt to make a snow angel. I want to ask him why he even bothered to keep them but I keep my mouth shut and head other to the stove to fill the kettle with water.

“So, how’s your day been?” he ask.

My back is turned to him but I can bet he’s tousling his hair.

“Horrible,” I replied sharply, turning on the burner. “as of today I’m officially unemployed.”

I turn to face him, leaning my back against stovetop and folding my arms across my chest. His expression softens.

“Jesus, that’s horrible. M’ sorry.” he drawls.

I shrug.

“Don’t be. It’s my fault.”

I turn around and stretch on my toes in search for a tea mug in the cupboard.

“I just don’t know what I’m gonna about my flat. Might as well move out. Won’t be able to afford it anyway.” I laugh bitterly.

He grabs hold of my wrist, bringing it to rest on his chest.

“Please, let me do something for you,” his thumb brushes against my knuckles briefly. “lemme help you, at least.”

For a moment I want us to stay like this, frozen in time, standing in his kitchen in our cliched stance. But something in me snaps. Something in those emerald eyes of his makes me snap.

“You know what Harry, sometimes you make me sick,” I snatch my hand away, biting down hard on my bottom lip as I struggle to find my words.

“you’re the very embodiment of some character from a cheap romance novel. You think I’m just this damsel in distress and you’ll be the knight and shining armor that comes riding in on his white horse to sweep me off my feet but guess what? I am no damsel in distress and I don’t need you.”

The words hung in the air, cold and burning as winter ice. Sudden tears burned in the corner of my eyes and I wanted to take the words back.

His jaw clenched and I was positive I’d struck a nerve.

“Goddamit, Presley. I know you don’t need me. I don’t need you either,” he swiped his tongue against his bottom lip. “but I want you. I want you and that’s all that matters. Is that so wrong?!”

I want you. I want you.

The words echoed in head and I couldn’t take it. All the pent up anger, the mixed emotions just hit me. The kettle whistles and I explode again.

“Why?” I growled, my voice shaking. “so you can claim me as some type of prize? So that you won’t die alone? You wanna trap me? Get me stuck in some hopeless marriage or maybe get me pregnant? What the fuck do you want from me?”

I’d lost it, hot tears spilling down my face. The hardened expression on Harry’s face softens and he leans over to sweep away a falling tear with his thumb.

“I want to love you.”

Love. I hated that word. People think it’s so wonderful, that it’s the most powerful thing in the world and maybe they’re right. That stupid four letter word has the power to change, to make people stay, and even make them lose their minds. But it’s also so fickle, so disposable, so abused. People use it when it’s convent, when you’ve got something to give and when they’ve gotten what they want, they retract it. Love was powerful and quite dangerous.

I snatch away.

“You don’t love me,” I quipped wiping a tear away with the sleeve of my jumper. “you just love the idea of me. You love it when we play house, when we act like girlfriend and boyfriend. You love it when we pretend. You wouldn’t love the real me.”

Harry laughs dryly as he runs a hand through his curls.

“That’s ridiculous, Presley. I’m fucking crazy about you! Do you think I would’ve stuck around this long? Or even agreed to your crazy ideas? All your little quirks, I love them just as much. I’m willing to love every part you.”

This was it, the very thing I was dreading . My biggest fear. I want out of this.

“This was all a huge mistake. All of this! All this boyfriend and girlfriend bullshit! If I’d known you were going to catch feelings I would have stayed away from you. ”

I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand.

“Read my lips: this was nothing. We were nothing. It was all pretend.” I spat.

The words hang in the air like dark ominous clouds and Harry’s handsome face twist into his meanest scowl yet.

“I was stupid. Stupid to waste my time on you. I let you use me once but it won’t happen again.” he seethed, his tone dark.

I stormed out of the kitchen and back into the lounge to get my coat. I wasn’t in the mood for tea anymore. I can hear his foot steps padding against the floor behind me.

I snatched my coat off its hanger before spinning around to face him.

“I told you, I don’t need you. I didn’t then and I don’t now.”

His gaze is hard and cold, penetrating and if looks could kill, I’d be long dead by now.

“Keep that attitude. Run from everyone and everything. Tell me how it works for you.”

I can’t control the hot tears falling down my face as I trudge to the door. I’m one hundred percent over that this is the definite end of things between Harry and I. This is exactly what I wanted but why do I feel so horrible?

My fingers grip the cold, metal door handle and I’m ready to walk out of his life forever.

“Hey,” he calls.

I spin around to face him, staring into his green eyes one final time.

“What?”

“Lie to yourself all you want but never say I pretended.”