I say, "I'm sure they're a handful."
"They are," she laughs, "but they're my whole world."
I've never given much thought to whether or not I want to have kids. Growing up, I saw what it does to kids when they don't have a stable environment, and I never knew if I would be able to provide that.
I finish up the tattoo, and the woman leaves, giving me a generous tip. Now that I have so much money, I feel guilty when clients tip me too much. I'd rather they keep the money for themselves, honestly.
It's only 6, but I'm done for the day. I check off the last appointment on the computer and get some paperwork sorted out for the rest of the week.
Jackson leaves, and I watch as he hops on his bike and rides off. It worries me when he goes home alone, but his house is only a few blocks away. It's another reason why he is here so much.
Harry sits on one of the couches as he waits for me to finish up for the day. We drove together since I had a short day, and I guess he didn't have anything else to do with his time.
The bell rings, and Pen enters.
Her eyes go to Harry immediately, and a sour look appears on her face. She motions to him and says, "The fuck's he doing here?"
As far as Pen knows, Harry broke up with me out of the blue. She doesn't know about the drugs or anything else, just that it really hurt me when he left. She's been hating on him ever since.
I say, "He was just helping with Jackson."
She points her finger at him, saying, "I don't like you, Harry Styles."
Harry nods. "I don't blame you."
Pen says, "You hurt the sweetest person on the planet, and it seems like for whatever reason she's forgiven you. If you hurt her again, I will rip your penis right off of your body, put it through a meat grinder, and make you eat it."
"Oh my God, Pen," I say, laughing at the vulgar language.
Harry's eyes widen as he says, "I'll keep that in mind."
Pen gives me a look of disapproval at his presence here. I know she would rather I never speak to him again, but she doesn't know the full extent of what happened.
Harry and I leave soon after she arrives. We stop and get Chinese takeout on the way home since we are running low on groceries at the moment. For some reason, it takes me back to when I ordered Aaron the wrong meal, and he flipped out on me.
When we get back to the apartment, we eat together at the island. It's the first time in a while that we've actually eaten together. We've been eating at different times,or at different places.
This feels too normal.
He says, "How are you doing? With everything?"
I glance at him, and his face is serious as he checks in on me. His green eyes look my face over, getting a read on me.
I say, "I'm alright. Some days are harder than others."
"Niall said you were going to some group meetings."
I nod. "Yeah. They helped a lot, especially in the beginning when I didn't know how to handle the constant desire for more drugs. Talking to people who are going through the same thing was really helpful."
"Are you still going to them?" he asks.
I say, "Not as much. Sometimes it just makes me depressed when I hear about people still struggling with addiction even after being clean for years."
"I'm sorry," he says sadly.
This is why I avoid talking to him about it. I know that he still blames himself for everything that happened. When he hears about how much it's affecting me, I know it just makes him feel even worse. At the same time, I can tell he wants me to talk to him. I don't know how to find the middle ground between the two.
The truth is that there are days when I never think about using, and there are days where it's all I can think about. I still don't fully understand how trying a drug once can permanently alter your brain to crave it constantly. It's not fair.
I ask him, "How about you? How are you doing?"
He says, "Some days are harder than others."
I roll my eyes, saying, "Sounds familiar."
"There's a lot of guilt that comes and goes," he says. He takes a bite of his food and then adds, "But I'm glad we are both moving in the right direction."
We are moving in the right direction. One step at a time, we are slowly moving past everything. I can't wait for all of this to be a distant memory in the past. I just wonder what the future looks like for me. For us, if there is an us.
Harry says, "Do you only eat the small pieces?"
His eyes are on my sesame chicken, which I have picked all of the small pieces out of and left the big pieces in the takeout container.
I say, "The big ones freak me out."
"They freak you out?" he laughs, amused.
I poke one of the big chunks with my fork. I say, "They're just suspicious or something. I prefer the small, crispy pieces, they feel safer."
"You're weird," he says as he laughs at me.
I laugh too. The sound of his laugh lights up the whole room. It's something I haven't heard in a while, and it's contagious. The sight of his dimples makes my stomach flutter. Our eyes catch each other, and our laughing comes to a halt.
It feels too normal, too much like how we used to be. It's so easy to fall back into the roles we had when we were dating. It's hard for me to remind myself that he's not mine anymore. We aren't together.
I don't know how to be his friend.
As we stare at one another, I know he's thinking the same thing. We don't say anything else as we clean up our food and head upstairs for the night. We exchange good nights and then part ways.
When I'm alone, I feel the emptiness inside of me again. It's a gaping hole that Harry was starting to fill again, but I'm pushing him out. The hole has been slowly closing without him, and I want to heal without him. I've been slowly weaving the hole back together, but he just keeps breaking it back open.
Maybe this was stupid.
Maybe I need to find my own place.