Chapter 30: Resurfacing Past

Whitney POV:

Song- I Don’t Wanna Let You Go- Ross Copperman

"Mom! Dad!" I yelled before we fell into a group hug. I squeezed them in my arms for dear life.

Everything hit me at once.

How much I had missed them.

In order to avoid feeling nostalgic, I tended to block everything out for the past few months. Preventing them from ever entering my thoughts anymore.

The only problem with this was times like now, when I felt it all at once as a result. The longing for my mom’s chicken noodle soup, my dad’s stern tone to advise me when my actions were misled, the joy from being here with them now.

I reached up to wipe a tear from my cheek, smiling as we pulled away from embrace.

A hand began to rub my back and I didn't have to turn around to know it was Harry. The soothing movements distinctly his.

Reminding me everything that led to this was all for the best. Because all good things come at a price.

Even happiness.

Then there are others. Those which are exchanged for things that can potentially bring us more in the return. In my case, the well-being of my family after months of struggles; Months of nothing but agony and pain.

I even have Harry.

I have Harry.

My hand reached behind me as I desperately searched for his. A large palm encompassing mine a moment later; I gave it a gentle tug to pull him by my side. A smile surfacing from us both; His warm touch bringing me a feeling of comfort.

"You remember Harry don't you?" I said glancing between my mum and dad.

My dad nodded as he shook Harrys other hand, "Nice to see you again Charles- I mean sir."

"And you too Mrs. Styles." Harry said extending his hand towards my mom.

"Oh please, you know you can call me Lucy. My you have grown...." My mom replied before they hugged.

Compared to her 5'4 height Harry created an evident contrast. One I never noticed between us since he was only three or four inches taller than me at most.

I released my hand, almost forgetting the plan was to wait until dinner to announce the news. My dad was looking back at the football game on TV so I think I was safe.

"I'm so happy to see you both," my mom gushed, glancing between us with a pleased smile.

"These are for you." I said while handing my dad the paper bag.

He peered inside, pulling out a strudel to show my mom.

Her eyes lit up and we fell into another hug. Gosh I missed those, so much.

"Why don't I put those in the kitchen for Hun?" My mom turned to ask.

I glanced over at Harry who was removing his Burberry jacket. I extended my arm to take it for him but he glided past me. Hanging it on the back of the door; Instead extending his hand for my purse with a charming grin. I playfully rolled my eyes, slipping it off my shoulder gracefully before placing the strap in his palm.

His mouth curved into a defined smile, positioning it above the collar of his jacket on the hook.

When Harry turned around he reached for my hand out of habit, but quickly retracted when I let out a subtle cough. Instead combing through his curls and hooking his thumbs in his back pockets. Emerald eyes mischievously flickering into mine; As if to mentally hold my hand instead. I knew because I was doing the same inside my head as well.

“Dinner should be ready. Hope you all came hungry.”

“Oh we did.” Harry said with a charming smile. Nudging my arm as we headed into the kitchen. As a result his smile grew inevitably contagious. And it wasn’t long I was grinning like an idiot, even half way through my meal at that.

.  .  .  .  .

Song- Oh Darling: Plug In Stereo (ft. Cady Groves)

“Everything is so good.”

“I second that,” I added with a smile.

“Well I have been taking a few cooking classes,” my dad joked.

My mom shook her head as we all chuckled softly.

As I dug around on my plate I felt Harry’s hand rest on mine beneath the table. I glanced over to my left to see him nod towards my parents who were in their own world. Tilting my head to see if he was thinking what I was.

He nodded, squeezing my hand encouragingly.

It did seem like the perfect timing with everything flowing so effortlessly, chatting about everything from work to the city.

“Mom. Dad.” I said to gain there attention.

They turned to face me. I almost grew a little nervous inside. Taking in a deep breath before speaking.

“There’s something I want to tell you.”

“Okay hunny what is it?” My mom prompted.

“It’s about Harry,” I paused, a smile forming when I peeked over at him. “Well it’s about us actually.”

Harry lightly nudged my arm while slipping his fingers into mine. Raising our interlocked hands from beneath the table as slowly as he spoke, “We’re together.”

Their eyes widened, remaining completely silent, speechless.

“You’re dating my daughter?” My dad sternly questioned, glaring intently at Harry.

My heart froze in my chest, feeling his hand tense in mine.

“Yes sir, I am.” Harry replied eloquently.

“Whinny what about Andy?” My mom inquired.

Did she actually just call me that? Gosh I hated that nickname.

“We broke up after New Year’s.” I mumbled uncomfortably at the mention of his name.

She shook her head, "Andy was such a young gentleman. You two seemed so crazy about one another. I mean you were together a year and a half, then you just broke up all if a sudden? I just don't understand." My mom spoke disapprovingly.

I could feel the tension in the air; Harry growing distant in his own circle of silence when Andy was brought into conversation.

I tightened my grip around his hand, letting out a groan under my breath. "Things change mom."

“But this…when did this happen?” She questioned in a worried tone, glancing back and forth between Harry and I.

"Along the way." I answered without a moment’s hesitation.

"I really care about your daughter-" Harry spoke up, only to be interrupted that is.

"Do you know what she's been though?" My dad bellowed, raising his voice impatiently.

"Dad," I huffed reproachfully.

He met my stare, signaling his hand in apology, and thankfully biting his tongue on that subject manner.

"If your happy then that's all that manners." My mom stated before looking over at my dad. Trying to convince herself as well as him I guess.

"I am. Harry makes me happy."

And he did.

Not only did he make me more confident in myself. But simply being with him: holding his hand, sharing a kiss, staring deeply into each other’s eyes. It made me so overjoyed, each on a different level of course but everyone I looked forward to.

Out of my peripheral vision Harry’s expression relaxed. We gradually finished up our dinner with small talk, smiles here and there. Then there was the subtle glances stolen during the times at which we passed the dishes or refilled our glasses of water.

Harry’s fingertips occasionally brush my thigh, ankle hooking behind my leg, charming smile sending my heart in a familiar spiral to be lost somewhere deep the bottom of my stomach.

.  .  .

We all pitched in to clear the table, even Harry who I had never taken as the type.

"The house is even lovelier than you described it," I commented, meanwhile my eyes scanning the etched trims that lined the white ceiling.

"Why don't you to look around before you have to go?”

I glanced over to read Harry’s watch, 5:20.

“Okay-“

Mom spoke again but in an unusually somber manner, the words coming out detached.

“There’s something of yours in the spare room upstairs. That is if you want it."

‘What does she still have of mine that I would need?’ I thought to myself which evoked curiosity in me, quickly changing to worry.

"We'll be back." I said glancing over at Harry. My eyes trailed down his refined blue button up and khaki pants. They created the perfect contrast with the chestnut locks. The way they were slowly becoming disheveled made me start to grin. Harry nodded in response, following as I led the way.

Hm I wonder what was waiting for me upstairs. 

_  _  _  _  _

Harry POV:

Song- Bella’s Lullaby (Piano only)

Whitney stood staring at the dresser. I'm pretty sure she hadn't moved for the past minute.

I gripped my arms around her small waist from behind, yielding her body back to the confines of mine.

"What is it?" I whispered in her ear, peering over her shoulder at the leather book.

Silence.

I slowly slipped my right hand around to pick it up, a hand catching my wrist. Her nails digging into the skin so my action was immediately halted.

"Don't do that." Whitney said firmly.

"I'm sorry. I won't touch it again." I mumbled, somewhat caught off guard by her response.

"Promise?"

"Yes."

"Say it?" Whitney whispered.

"I promise I won't babe."

Her grasp released mine, tone distant.

"Thank you.”

Silence.

"What is it?" I asked hesitantly, trailing my digits up her right arm while awaiting a response.

But all I heard was a sniffle.

I retracted my grasp, staring at her lifeless frame. "Babe you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?"

She ran her fingertips down over the cover, turning around ever so slowly.

It broke my heart to see the tears well in her eyes as she weakly spoke, stammering over every other word.

"It-it's my jou-journal."

I didn't know what to say.

What to do.

So I wiped her cheeks as the tears began to fall. Running my thumbs beneath the bottom lashes while they fluttered uncontrollably.

Pulling her in for a bone crushing hug because I knew how much she loved those.

When I began to rub circles between her shoulder blades she broke the extensive silence, voice getting progressively panicked.

"I'm not ready to see it Ha-Harry. The feelings it brings back- I can't. I-I just can't."

"Shhh. It's okay babe," I cooed in her ear.

Her body trembled in mine, more tears flooding her beautiful skin.

"Please don't cry," I lowered my voice, letting out a concerned exhalation. "I hate to see you cry." I whispered in her ear.

More sniffles.

"Do you want to talk about it? Here why don't we sit?" I suggested, leading her over to the window seat.

Her eyes remained on the book at the opposite end of the room. Frozen like a statue.

Think Harry.

Think of anything to get her mind off it.

"How about some water?"

She shook her head no. Peering up beneath her lashes, "They were supposed to..." she paused to draw in a deep breath. I moved alongside her, wiping the remaining tears, "...to keep it until I was ready."

"But you don't want it do you?" I began to understand.

She nodded in confirmation, whispering, "I'll never be ready."

I moved my hand to her thigh sympathetically. "That’s okay you don't have to," I cooed once more.

"But they said it was the fi-final step."

I slid my index along her jawline, tilting her chin up so I could see her beautiful sapphire eyes. "Who said? You parents."

"No."

I remained silent, waiting for some sort of clarification. Not wanting to push more than she could handle.

Her left hand moved atop mine, digits gracefully trailing across my knuckles.

She met my stare, keeping our eyes locked before mumbling, "The therapist."

"Oh," I austerely murmured.

"Do you want some time alone?" I asked, gesturing towards the door. "I can give you some space-"

When I began to stand her hand urgently reached for mine.

"Stay...please."

"Okay. I'm right here babe,” I said taking a seat back by her side.

“Just don't shut me out." I besought, slipping an arm around her back.

Whitney blinked back tears, "Sorry I was harsh about you reading it."

"I understand why," I consoled, firmly resting my digits on her left side.

"I always thought that someday I would be able to read it, you know? But just thinking about it takes me back."

"Then don't think about it."

"It's hard not to," She confessed.

I moved my right to her knee, circling as I searched for ways to distract her.

"Maybe this will help get your mind off of it."

*  *  *  *  *

Whitney POV:

I hate being weak.

Why am I always so damn weak?

If I was Harry I would have left me a long time ago. Mabye he will now that he sees just how fragmented I was.

I still am.

The journal, my old journal, with all the compulsive thoughts, descriptions of my feelings, it was too much.

“Mabye this will help get your mind off of it.”

His kisses have never been so gentle before. To the point where I could just feel his lips just pressed to mine. The way his tongue trailed my bottom one. How his teeth grazed the skin in a way that left me wanting more. Their pink tint matching my flushed cheeks. Soothing movements of his digits that never departed my side.

The way tells me he cares. Moments like now when he shows it.

Those are the things that put me back together.

So as cliché as it may sound…to say he was the best thing that ever happened in my life, would be an understatement.

I needed Harry like I needed air.

It was as simple as that.

My eyelashes fluttered against his cheek when our lips departed. Feeling the indent of a dimple, leading me to smile uncontrollably. One effect he would always have on me no matter how many kisses we would share.

“Is that a smile I see?” Harry inquired, dimples growing wider.

I bit my bottom lip as he cupped my face to inspect for anymore tears.

“Can you do me a favor?” I whispered.

“Anything,” Harry answered, not missing a beat.

“Get my bag from downstairs? It has my makeup. I can’t walk down looking like this.” I said gesturing towards my face.

“You look beautiful.”

My cheeks flushed, “I don’t want them to know.”

“I understand. Should I just bring up the whole thing…?”

I nodded, giving him a peak on the lips. His hand slowly released mine, eyes cautiously scanning my face.

“Are you going to be okay?”

 “Yeah, I’m sorry for-“

“There’s no way your apologizing for getting upset Whit. I don’t get why they would even try to give it to you when it hasn’t even been that long-“ Harry ranted, frustration evident in his tone.

“They didn’t know.”

“But still…”

“It’s just a bad subject Harry. I’ll be fine,” I reassured him.

“Promise?”

I nodded, “promise.”

“Be right back.” Harry said with a charming smile before exiting the room.

I’ll be fine. It’s only a couple of minutes alone with my thoughts…what’s the worst that could happen?

_  _  _  _  _

Harry POV:

Song- Belong: Cary Brothers

I tried to hurry back as quickly as possible. But of course things never seem to work out as planned. Not only did my jacket fall to the floor when I removed Whitney's purse, but while making my way back to the staircase a voice caught me dead in my tracks.

"Harry?"

I twisted around, "Oh Lucy, hello there."

"Where's Whitney?"

"Oh she's upstairs-" I paused when I realized she was staring at the purse in my hand.

"Is everything okay?"

"Uhh-" I stammered, realizing Whitney needing makeup all of a sudden would alert her mom of what she didn’t want her know.

Shit.

Think of something Harry.

Just think of anything.

"Yes."

Her tone was evidently doubtful, "What's that for then?" She asked, glancing at the purse once more.

I blurted the first thing that came to mind, which was never good by the way. "Uhh she just needed some personal things, you know girls and their..." I nudged my head to the right hoping she would figure the rest out for herself.

She nodded understandingly, "Ohh I see."

"Better get these to her."

"Yes, yes." Lucy responded, ushering me upstairs.

I smiled before turning around with a sigh of relief. Whew glad I caught that one. Wait until I tell Whitney...

"Harry," a masculine voice called.

Charles.

Can’t can a break, can I?

"Can I have a talk with you? Man to man."

I rubbed my thumbs together, realizing my hands were sweating from anxiety.

"This is about Whitney and I right?"

After we announced our relationship at dinner he had stayed quiet ever since, which only meant what he was thinking was perhaps worse.

"Not exactly. I didn't want to say anything in front of her, but if you’re going to be in her life-” he paused before adding, “-since you’re her boyfriend you should be aware of a few things first."

"Whitney told me about the journal," I acknowledged.

"So I take it you know about the eating disorder than?"

I nodded, "Yes sir."

"And how hard it was for her to get back to a good place again?"

"The rehab facility she went to the week after," I confirmed.

"Did you say a week?" He huffed, expression growing with concern.

"Yeah, why is there something else she had to do afterwards?"

"Harry why don't you sit?"

My stomach clenched, knowing that only confirmed my worries.

We took a seat on the sofa. He picked up the remote from the coffee table and muted the television. Turning to face me with a stone hard expression.

"Wh-what is it?"

"Harry the facility she went to released her after a week-"

I shook my head in confusion, "I know, that's what I said remember?" 

He placed his hand on my shoulder, "But what she didn't tell you was that in the following two weeks she relapsed..."

Relapsed.

That's bad right?

"...She was down so far we almost lost her. Andy called us at three in the morning to tell us she was in the hospital."

I swallowed hard, my stomach feeling like it was caught in my throat.

"She passed out, her lungs were collapsing, it was the most terrifying thing I have ever gone through as a father. To not know if she was ever going to recover."

Passed out?

Lungs collapsing?

Whitney.

This happened to my Whitney.

Oh god.

"But she's fine now...it couldn't have been that bad. Yeah she’s fine now." I said aloud, trying to secretly reassure myself.

"Since she was still under 18 we signed her into the rehab facility, giving them permission to keep her until they were sure she was strong enough."

I ran my digits through my tasseled hair fretfully, prolonging the question that was haunting my mind.

"Ho-How long was sh-she there?"

His answer changed everything.

So many emotions consuming my body that my mind felt like it was going to expload.

Guilt.

Fear.

Ones that made me question every moment Whitney and I had spent together since that New Year's Eve night.

"June to October. She was there for four months Harry."

4 months.