How It's Going To Be [h.s.]

Chapter 70

Seventy chapters and more to come! I'm particularly excited for the next few parts. Thank you for reading!

{Kate's Point of View}

Three months had passed since Harry and I broke up. Three long months of avoiding one another, avoiding feelings, and avoiding the inevitability of one day moving on. I focused on living my life as simply as possible to cleanse it of all things Harry Styles. I stopped watching local news. I stayed off social media. I traveled to and from work without stopping along the way. I started avoiding my friends when at all possible. Breakups weren't supposed to hurt so badly, and the pain was not supposed to last so long.

When I was with Harry, I craved solitude. I would think about living a normal life with him where cameras didn't care who we were and people didn't stop us on the street. I had an ongoing fantasy where Harry and I lived together near the shore. We would be able to smell the ocean from our house. We would have normal jobs and normal friends. It wasn't that I didn't like our life; I just loved being with Harry without the distractions of his lifestyle. But since being apart, solitude had lost its intrigue. Being alone was a lot more appealing when I could be alone with Harry.

The loneliness had reached a climax just as afternoon matured into early evening. The walls of my flat felt like they were closing in on me. I looked at my bedroom and saw myself with Harry lying under the sheets laughing together as his fingers prodded my sides for a ticklish spot. I looked at my kitchen and saw Harry hovering over the stove as he made tea for me. I looked at my living room and saw the countless time Harry kissed me in the doorway upon arrival or departure. My flat was laced with memories I wished to silence.

I grabbed my coat and phone and rushed out of my flat. I walked out of my building and down the street until I came to a place where I didn't have any memories with Harry. It was a park just a few blocks from my building. On a sunny October afternoon, the park was full of businessmen using the park as a shortcut, people walking their dogs, and schoolchildren playing in the grass. I blended into the current of people walking the pathway and thought about how I didn't feel so alone anymore.

I ended up on the opposite end of the park where fewer people were. There was a single football field capped on either side with empty goal frames. School-age boys had shed their book bags in a pile and took to a quick game of football before dinnertime. The sleeves of their school uniforms were rolled up above their elbows. Their dress shoes had been exchanged for trainers. Each boy had a flushed face from adrenaline and the cold.

The game seemed to intensify and it caught my attention wholly. I sat on a park bench facing the pitch. The boys rushed up and down following the haphazard pattern of the ball. The goalkeepers crouched in anticipation for a save. A few boys collided in what seemed to be a painful tackle gone wrong, but they all helped each other up and laughed as they rejoined their teammates.

Something about the whole sight felt oddly familiar. I watched intently, unable to drag my attention away for even a moment. The memory crept into my mind slowly at first. I experienced a fuzzy feeling of déjà vu. My senses slowed and my mind grew hazy. I watched a player kick the ball from near the center of the pitch. It soared through the air and struck the crossbar before falling into the goal. Half the boys cheered and the goalkeeper hung his head sadly. It was then that the memory returned fully.

____________

I sat on the edge of a chair in the entryway of Harry's country house. Harry knelt at my feet tying my shoes for me. I peered down past his hair and watched his fingers nimbly work the laces of my trainers into a knot. He pushed his hair over one side of his head to clear it from his face and looked up at me as he tightened one knot.