“It was a pleasure having you both. Hopefully, you managed to have a little fun.” She smiles, glancing between us.
I look at Harry. He’s smiling back at her, and he looks as handsome as ever. Between him, the music, the food, the dancing—I’m always going to feel nostalgic about tonight. I already feel nostalgic for it, and it hasn’t even ended.
Tonight, I got to imagine what a future would look like with Harry.
What our life could be like.
And at the same time, I had to give up that future.
Because I know that we can’t keep playing pretend.
We can’t fake date one another just so we don’t have to face the truth.
That we’re growing up.
Even if we both want to run away from change, we can’t. Not anymore.
And tonight, I’ll always remember it as the night that I made the decision to tell Harry no.
No to Shanghai.
No to pretending.
I know it’s the right thing, but it didn’t make telling him any easier.
I look back to Mrs. Burton.
“It was the perfect night,” I reply, my heart in my throat.
Harry takes my hand in his.
“It almost was,” he agrees.
I want it all gone.
10:15pm
“You never sent us photos!” It’s the first thing Mohammad says to us when we get back to the house.
Even though I can tell he’s annoyed, my focus is elsewhere.
I think back to the car ride home.
I held on to Harry’s hand the whole way, wishing there were more I could do.
Something I could say to make things better.
He didn’t let go of my hand, but I could tell it wasn’t for himself.
He did it to comfort me, which sort of made the whole thing worse. I can already feel the distance growing between us.
“I don’t think we took any,” I finally reply, knowing that if I don’t address Mohammad, a freak out will ensue.
Mohammad and Noah are both still on the couch, watching a movie, and there are empty plates and Coke cans on the coffee table in front of them from their pizza night.
I shift my gaze away from Noah and Mohammad to Harry, looking at him for confirmation.
“Sorry, mate.” Harry shrugs.
Mohammad rolls his eyes.
“Too busy drinking champagne to send your best friend an update,” Mohammad fires back. “I see how it is.”
Harry grins then saunters over to Mohammad, leaving me alone in the doorway.
And I instantly feel his absence.
My stomach rolls, and I have to grab on to the doorframe to keep myself steady.
“I wasn’t too busy to snag you both some truffles though,” Harry says as he pulls a white napkin from his pocket. He hands it to Mohammad, who opens it, revealing two chocolate truffles tucked safely inside.
Mohammad’s expression brightens instantly, and he looks up at Harry like he’s the center of his existence.
“You spoil us.” Mohammad grins, popping the truffle into his mouth. He hands the napkin with the other one to Noah.
It’s then that I finally meet Noah’s eyes.
He’s staring right at me, his lips curled down in a frown. He takes the napkin with the truffle into his hand but quickly sets it down on the coffee table.
He shifts, and I can tell he’s about to get up and come over to me.
But then I know what’s going to happen.
He’s going to see something is wrong, ask me about it, and I won’t be able to answer him. At least, not here. Not in front of Harry and Mohammad.
And I know Noah. He’s not going to drop it.
He’s going to insist that I tell him what’s wrong, which means I’ll have to drag him out of the room.
And then Harry will know exactly what is going on, and I really don’t think that’s going to help anything. So, I plaster a smile onto my face and let go of the doorway.
Luckily, Mohammad breaks the silence.
“Do you guys want to put on another movie?” he asks, looking between me, Harry, and Noah.
“Let me change, and then I’ll come watch one with you,” Harry answers.
“Mal?” Noah’s eyes are all over me.
“I’m so tired. I might just go to bed,” I reply, walking farther into the living room. I plop down on the edge of the sofa, trying to act relaxed.
“Ah, come on! You have to tell us about the night.” Mohammad pouts. “I want to know everything. How was the food? Any hotties there?”
I laugh, rolling my eyes at him.
“You’ve got the entire car ride tomorrow to hear all about our night,” I say, trying to sound upbeat. “But to answer your questions, the food was delicious, and there was no one there that I could have set you up with. Not that you need any other prospects.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Mohammad replies, waving me off.
I exhale slightly. At least Mohammad doesn’t think anything is wrong. When I turn to Noah though, he’s looking intensely at me, and the smile falls off my face.
“The food was great but small portions. Why don’t you throw in another pizza?” Harry says to Mohammad.
“Done and done,” Mohammad replies, bouncing up from the couch.
I take the chance to say a casual good night to everyone and quickly head upstairs.
I know that I should have said something more to Noah.
At least given him a hug or an individual good night.
But I’m more concerned with keeping it together until I’m alone. Because holding Harry’s hand in the car was harder than I’d thought. And all I could think about was him.
That things are going to change between us.
He was right, and that’s hitting me hard.
I walk into my bedroom—Harry’s bedroom—feeling sick again. I close the door behind me, my eyes starting to burn. Everything inside me stirs, and I hurry into the bathroom and shut myself in the room.
I stand in front of the mirror and look at myself. At the necklace I’m wearing.
A gift from Harry.
A fresh tear runs down my cheek.
I cup the front of my neck with my hand, feeling like my throat is on fire. I grab at the necklace, trying to take it off. But my hands start to shake, and I can’t get it unclasped. I feel myself growing more and more upset.
It’s just like before, the same overwhelming feeling.
It rushes through me, and I crumple to the floor.
I bring my hand up to the necklace again, wanting out of it.
It’s not just the necklace that feels like it weighs a million pounds, but it’s the dress too. I curl my hands into fists, wishing I could escape everything.
Wishing I didn’t feel like I was drowning.
I pull my legs up to my chest and wrap my arms around my knees, crying into my dress.
And this time, I don’t have the energy to stop it.
Maybe this is what it feels like when your heart breaks.
“Mal?” a voice calls out, capturing my attention.
Keeping my forehead against my knees, I roll my head in the direction of the door. It pushes open slowly, and then bare feet appear on the tiles next to me.
Suddenly, Noah’s on his knees, and his warm arms wrap around me.
I start crying harder as he holds me.
I eventually bring my head up to look at him.