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𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘄𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗲𝘁
1 𝗁

" 𝕳ey. Sorry I'm late".

Jim gets seated on the chair opposite his daughter's with a mild apologetic smile on his face.

Darlene only resorts to staring back at him with a neutral face.

That is her strategy for today.

Let him do the talking, let him make the effort and if still by the end of the lunch, her feelings towards him lean heavily on the negative side then she'll just tell him to fuck off, make a promise to act civil during family meets and leave.

An absolutely foolproof plan.

She doesn't know whether he's supposed to hug her or shake her hand but she's glad he doesn't make an attempt at either.

She's not sure physical contact is something she's ready for yet.

Jim clears his throat, picking up the menu of the Central London restaurant he chose to meet her at.

"Shall we order then?".

"Sure", she shrugs and waves the waiter over having already decided what she wanted in the ten minutes he kept her waiting.

Couldn't even be on time for a lunch with his daughter, how wretched is that?

But then again, her father's never been the punctual one in the family.

Always late for birthday parties, lunches, family dinners, Christmas Day brunches.

"We're ready to order", she speaks earning a nod from the waiter whose eyes linger a bit longer than a second on the pair before he's pulling out his tablet.

"A vegetable soup for me, please".

He types it down turning to a frowning Jim.

"And for you, sir?".

"Uhm . . . . make that two vegetable soups. Plus a side of Caprese Crostini".

He enters the order before confirming if they'd like anything else and walks away, leaving them to sit in an uncomfortable silence.

"Just soup?", Jim enquires after a minute.

"Mhm".

Darlene sits up straighter and tucks her hair behind her ear watching his gaze take in her new haircut with a quiet, displeased look.

He's always told her that she looks prettier with long hair, she remembers him saying that to her on numerous occasions especially the time when in her early teens she'd had a severe mental breakdown and decided to cut half of her hair bringing it up to her shoulders.

Pretty fucked up to be honest but then again he is a dad.

So this long bob sort of style is enough for him purse his lips with knitted brows.

"You cut your hair".

"Two months ago actually but thank you for noticing", she smiles a sarcastic smile and sips at her water.

He shakes his head but refrains from commenting.

Woah, maturity?

"So, uhm. What's been going on with you lately?".

Shush brain, don't snap.

"Since last February?", she raises a brow.

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, "No, uh . . . . in general, I mean. What's new? Your mum told me you have a boyfriend?".

Do not lose it.

"Had. Past tense", she fiddles with her water glass.

"Why? What happened?", he asks, concerned.

"Life" she keeps her answer short hoping, praying that he'd take the hint.

Apparently not.

"Did he . . . . do something?", he frowns for the second time this afternoon.

Darlene inhales.

"I know it must be a usual habit for you to immediately assume someone else is in the wrong, because . . . . you know", she spreads her hands emphasing, "but your offspring was the one in the wrong. Is that enough or do you need to me list out all the reasons why I am the way I am?".

"Darlene . . . ."

Jim shakes his head.

"This was a bad idea", she mumbles.

"No, it wasn't. You're just always out for my blood, that's the problem", he snaps.

Oh thank god, the caring dad act is over.

"Oh, I'm always out for your blood? Have you even considered the fact that maybe I'm not in a good place right now? That the last thing I need is to talk to my father, who I haven't seen in ages, about why I fucking walked away from the best man in this entire world? No? Well, you should have".

She takes a deep breath, curling and uncurling her fist under the table while he stares back, stumped.

Don't let him get to you, Darlene. You're better than this.

He clears his throat.

"You still love him then".

Darlene scoffs.

"Do you ever listen to anything I say? I don't want to talk about this anymore. Stop pretending you give a shit and move on".

"I'm just trying to understand you—".

"Well, don't. Not when I'm all grown up and I've already fucked up as much as I could".

The waiter chooses that moment to serve their soups and bread which is a welcome distraction by both of them.

He leaves, a brooding silence falling over the table with his exit and the two happily ignore the other by turning all their undivided attention to the food in front of them.

𝕴n a different corner of the world, Harry is once again inside his Los Angeles studio working on his album first thing in the morning.

These days, he only goes home to sleep or shower the former of which he sometimes decides to catch up on right there on the studio couch which has become a sort of a second home to him at this point.

He grabs his phone, trying to distract himself from the haunting lyrics scribbled all over the notebook lying on the table, and opens instagram.

His eyes light up when he sees that Darlene has finally posted to her story.

Okay, it's kind of pathetic being happy to see your ex posted on social media but he's beyond pathetic by now, one look at the lines written on the diary page will tell you so.

He clicks on her profile icon and feels his insides melt at the sight of her beautiful beautiful face staring into the camera in the selfie she has posted.

He rubs at his eyes and leans forward, staring at the photo.

She looks different, not the exhausted mess of a perfect portrait she'd been when he'd last seen her, but a very very good different.

It suits her, the new hair.

It looks like her face was designed just for it, she looks gorgeous no matter what look she's sporting and that baffles him because how could someone be so angelic?

He finds himself smiling, even though he knows he can't reply to her story like he used to anymore.

Or maybe he can?

No, no that'd be too desperate.

Don't let her think you're desperate.

That's what Mitch had said when she'd left him the voice-mail and he'd barreled up to Mitch asking for advice because she wasn't picking up his calls.

"Should I try texting her?".

"Harry, no. She'll see the notifications. She'll call you — or text you — if she wants to. Don't let her think you're desperate, because you're not".

"But I kind of am, y'know".

"Doesn't matter. We don't want her thinking that. And we don't want you breaking your own heart either".

"But she said she loves me, Mitch!".

He'd received a sharp glare at that and Mitch had taken away his phone for the rest of the day to keep him from embarrassing himself.

God, being in love with your ex is hard.

***
i have a v important essay to complete for which the deadline is 20th and i've only received the prompts today so if updates are a bit irregular from now onwards it's bc of that
pls pray for me besties this is a v v important thing for me i hope i dont mess up 🙏