I didn't end up getting a round two. 

I didn't even have time to process a word he said.

The second those three words came out of his mouth, we looked at each other and didn't move. And I'm sure I looked quite the same as he did, our eyes both wide. Except my look was filled with confusion and his had trepidation written all over it. And right away, he said he didn't mean it. That it slipped out with the rest of his words.

He moved me off of him and walked around his room looking for his clothes. I watched as he found each article of clothing and put them on hastily, before walking down the stairs to grab his shirt. He came back up a few seconds later, pulling it over his head and running his hand through his hair, as he walked across the room to turn off the music. 

He wouldn't even look at me as he told me to get dressed because we had to go and set the table for his mom, and I had no idea how to take his sudden change of mood. I decided not to say anything because I could sense that he didn't want to talk about it, and I didn't know what to say exactly, and so I did what was asked of me. Got dressed, fixed my hair in the mirror by the stairs and followed him through the house to the kitchen in silence.

I helped him set the table, and every so often he would look at me through his long eye lashes from across the table seeing that I was staring at him, and just as I was about to break the awkward silence, his Mom walked into the house, pleasantly surprised to see we were setting the table for her like she had asked, making me unable to say anything to him.

I helped his Mom dish up the dinner when it was time to eat as Harry sat on the other side of the island watching us. I was happy to help her and she took a liking to the fact that I wanted to. It was nice to do something with her, even if it was doing something small, hearing how much she appreciated me. It made me feel good. Special even, in the slightest way.

Harry and I were both quiet with each other through dinner. We talked to his parents normally as if something weird hadn't happened and acted as if things were okay. And they were okay. I think — Or at least I wanted to think that they were. It's what Harry and I were good at. When we were around friends, we were able to act like nothing was going on with us. With his parents, it was the opposite. Acting like we were friends, even though I could tell he didn't even want to look at me. And I had to act like nothing was wrong. Like I was completely happy to be sitting at the table with this loving family. When really, all I wanted, was to be at home, locked inside my room, hiding away from the world, alone. 

I offered to do the dishes afterwards since apparently it was his Mom's turn to do them. I didn't want her to have to do more work than she needed to, and I was happy to do them for her, in thanks for letting me to stay at her house.

And I wasn't really quite sure how I felt when Harry said he was going to go to Maddy's party, not even asking if I wanted to go with him, and left before I was even done the dishes and didn't bother to say goodbye to me. Anne didn't seem to mind that he was going out, as she had assumed he would be anyways, leaving us to have what she called a girl's night, which she seemed overly excited to have with me.

And now I'm sitting on one of the most comfortable couches I have ever sat on, watching PS: I Love You with Anne, really just wishing she had picked a different movie. Any other movie would suffice right now. Because the last thing I want to think about is love. Or really in my case, the lack there of.

I'm trying to decide how I feel about his words as I stare at the screen, not really watching it. He had said he loved me and then took it back. He didn't mean it. It slipped out of his mouth. And I can understand that he may have thought I'd have some crazy come back about how he can't feel that way about me and possibly start another fight, and maybe that's why he decided the silent treatment was the better way around this.

But I wasn't going to start a fight with him over this. Love isn't something you fight about. It's not something that I would yell at him for feeling, especially if it was how he felt about me. Sure it's not something that's meant to be felt in the kind of relationship we're in, but I know that sometimes love is just something that happens. Something you just can't help but feel towards someone.

And at the moment, I don't know whether I'm more upset about him saying it, or the fact that he took it back. I know that he couldn't actually feel that way about me. He doesn't know me well enough for that. But for about fifteen seconds before he took it back, there was that chance I'd know what it would be like to have someone feel that way about me.

Carter's love for me was real. But not in a love love way. In a way that we just grew to feel that way about each other because we were so close for so long, making it more of a friendship love than anything else. Sure, I didn't understand that at the time, but I know that's what it was now, because our feelings will never change for each other and it'll always be that way. A friendship kind of love.

And so for fifteen short seconds, even through the awkward looks on our faces, there was still that chance. I had fifteen seconds of my heart pounding. Fifteen seconds where I was confused and scared and yet overjoyed that someone could possibly love me.

But he took it back. Taking away the thumping of my heart, taking away that hope that it was possible for someone to feel that way about me, even if the situation is all wrong and I don't feel that way about him.

He took love away in a heartbeat, and I'm left with nothing but myself. With cruel thoughts of my reality, where no one will ever feel that way about me. And even though I only had that fake love for a heartbeat of time, taking it away breaks my heart. For I wanted to feel it more than anything. 

But just like that, it was taken away, with words striking me, telling me he didn't mean it. It wasn't real. 

He doesn't love me.

No one loves me.

I will never know what it feels like.

"Do you want some ice cream?" Anne asks, taking me away from my thoughts. I turn to look at her, to see she's looking at me from the opposite side of the couch, and I wonder how long she's been staring at me, or if she's been paying attention to the movie, unlike me.

"Oh — um, no thanks," I stutter. I sit up on the couch, ready to make a move for it. Maybe this is my cue to go to my room and call it a night. "I think I might go to bed early."

"Is everything okay?" she asks as she moves to sit up.

"Yeah, I'm just tired," I lie. This is a lie I use quite frequently, and it usually shuts people up because they either think it's the truth or realize it means I don't want to talk about it. But with the way Anne is looking at me, I know that she's not buying it.

"You know, Jayde," she says, moving a little closer to me on the couch. "I'm a really good listener. And I'm wise. I know a thing or two. I've been through hell and back in my time and I'm known to give great advice."

I look over at her not knowing what to say as she smiles at me. She really is the kind of mom I would love to have. The fact that she doesn't even know me and loved the fact we'd have a girl's night to watch some love movie and eat ice cream together and knows something is wrong and wants me to talk it out with her, is more than I would have wanted in a parent. I've never had a girl's night with my mom and I wonder if we ever had, if it would have been like this.

But who am I kidding? A girls night with my mom would probably consist of taking shots together and seeing who could yell louder or find out who could slap who the hardest.

"Everything is fine, Anne," I tell her. "I just had a long day at school and I'm tired."

"Right," she sighs. "Well, I hope you and Harry work out whatever it is that seemed to have happened when I was at work, because we have a fun filled day planned for tomorrow, and I don't want it to be ruined just because you guys are in some weird funk."

"What?"

She looks at me with a smile on her face, seeing my shocked expression. "Why don't we go and get our pajamas on and watch the rest of this movie, shall we?"

Although I just told her that I was going to go to bed early and had planned to just go up to my room and stay there for the evening, I decide that it wouldn't hurt to finish this movie with her. As unsure of my feelings that I am right now, I realize I should take advantage of her wanting to spend some time with me. I should utilize this to my advantage and get what I wanted out of this weekend, wholeheartedly.

And that, is to feel something.

Before going back downstairs, I decide to check my phone that's plugged into the wall, sitting on the nightstand. My heart starts to pound when I see there's a few texts from Harry and I can't click on it fast enough to see what he's said to me. When I open it, it looks like he's written an entire novel, and so I sit down on the edge of the bed to read it.

From: Harry
>> Apology 1.
I'm sorry for being such an ass tonight. My avoidance was unfair and I went about it all the wrong way. I realize now that I would rather fight with you than give you the silent treatment any day.

From: Harry
>>Apology 2.
I'm sorry I left you there with my mom. This party is lame and I never should have left. Or I should have been nice enough to ask you if you wanted to come. You can call me a douchebag tomorrow if you want. I deserve it.

From: Harry
>>Apology 3.
I'm sorry for saying what I did and taking it back. I don't know what you're thinking or how that made you feel, but I feel so bad about it. I can only imagine how it feels to hear that someone doesn't love you. And the last thing I want to do is hurt you. Or make you think that you're not loved. And I was stupid to even say that word. Stupid for letting it slip out of my mouth the way it did. Because this just makes things weird, because I don't feel that way and now I feel bad that I don't, and I shouldn't. You know that I like the way things are with us. I  don't want things to change. And I want to keep doing what we're doing together.

From: Harry
>> If it's alright with you, I don't want to talk about it. Let's add this to the no late night conversation rule. This was the only way I could say what I needed to — call me a coward. But you deserve an explanation and an apology, and I hope that we're alright. If anything, I'm hoping we can just pretend this never happened and we can pick up where we left off before I said something stupid.

From: Harry
>>Now that I've written a fucking book to you, there's just one more thing I want to say...

From: Harry
>> I think you're pretty.

I rest my phone back on the nightstand and leave the room, shutting the door behind me. I'm not really sure if an apology is what I needed. I'm not particularly feeling any better now that I've read his texts. Hearing someone doesn't love you, hurts. Whether it's meant to be there or not. He never should have said it, like he said. Because now I have it stuck in my mind that he's just another person who doesn't feel that way about me.

As I walk down the stairs, I let out a long breath, making sure to walk back into the living room without a solemn look on my face. Anne can't know that I'm feeling anything but grateful for allowing me to stay here.

She has two bowls of vanilla ice cream sitting on the coffee table, along with a tray of chocolate syrup, sprinkles, smarties and gummy bears. The sight before me makes me instantly smile, despite my not wanting ice cream a few minutes ago.

"Comfort food," she smiles, as I sit down. "I've been needing an excuse to do this"

We both load our ice cream with toppings and I can feel her eyes on me as she grabs the blanket from behind us and places it over our legs as I sit back on the couch. I try to make it seem like I don't notice her gaze on me, taking a bite of my ice cream and looking at the television, waiting for her to press play again. And I'm happy that she does.

The ice cream was the most satisfying thing and my taste buds enjoyed every second of it, not having enjoyed something as amazing as this in so long. When I'm finished my bowl, I place it on the table in front of me, and Anne pauses the movie and looks at me.

"You know, my son has a heart of gold," she says, taking me by surprise. "I'm a bit biased, because he's mine. But I know that he does and says things before he thinks sometimes. And like I said, I don't know what happened with you two this afternoon, but I'm sure he's done or said something unnecessary to you."

I look over at her, not knowing what to say again. But I like that she seems to know her son well. It doesn't surprise me in the slightest. I want to tell her that although she is right, I'm not perfect either, and despite the fact our awkwardness throughout the evening was because of him, most every fight we've ever had was because of me. But instead, I stay quiet, because I can see that she's going to continue.

"Harry cares about you," she tells me, seriously. "He cares enough to invite you here. He worries about you a great deal, and I think he's happy that you're here. So, if he's said something to upset you, there's a chance he didn't mean it."

She's right, he didn't mean it.

But that's the least of my concerns right now.

"He told you something, didn't he?" I ask quietly. My heart starts to race in my chest, thinking this woman sat next to me knows more than I've wanted anyone to know, and suddenly the ice cream I just ate, wants to make an exit.

"Just that your home situation is not — ideal," she answers. She places her hand on my knee and sympathetically looks me in the eyes. I want to cry. I thought there was a chance he told her to allow for her to let me stay here, but I didn't think he actually would have. And now I know she knows something, and she's staring at me with pain in her eyes, feeling sorry for me. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it. I'm not asking you to. But we are here for you. We'll listen if you want to talk. You can come to us whenever you need someone."

Her sweetness terrifies me and comforts me at the same time. And I can't help the tears that are suddenly falling down my cheeks. I haven't got a clue as to why I'm crying, whether it's because she knows, or if it's because she's showing me kindness I haven't ever seen, or if it's because she planned this little girl's night to hope that I would let her in. I'm thinking there's a chance it could be all of those mixed together, on top of everything else that has been going on, along with not knowing what it's like to be loved. And in the smallest of ways, her words made me feel, even more so than before, that she, as a stranger, cares enough about me to let me into her home. 

She cares.

Harry cares.

And although he doesn't love me, maybe knowing someone cares, is enough.

She rests my head down on her lap, curling myself into a ball on my side as the tears continue falling. They won't stop now that they've started, and I allow myself to take in the fact that she's brushing the hair out of my face with her hand to comfort me. It was something my Mom did when I was a child when I was upset about something, and it makes me sad to remember this small memory. Sad that I don't have that kind of mom anymore.

But here is someone, a motherly figure that I'm in desperate need of, who's willing to try and take the pain away. To show me, that even though I'm just a guest in this house, a stranger to her, that she's capable of opening her heart to me and letting me in, knowing how much I need it.

A/N: Thank you for 26.6K Reads!

Thoughts?

Probably surprising that it wasn't Jayde who had a freak out! lol

Much Love,
amberlove
xo