Restless [Reckless Sequel] || Harry Styles AU (DISCONTINUED)

14: closure

Nostalgia hit me like a slap in the face.

I rushed over to the kitchen and emptied my stomach into the sink. I coughed and sputtered while I regained control of my breathing. I leaned my head against the cold granite counter as I turned on the faucet.

Breathe.

I stepped away from the sink and steadied myself. After a few more deep breaths, I wandered into the living room.

Without any furniture on the floor I was still able to picture the layout in my head.

I could remember the nights I stayed up late to watch rated r action/adventure movies with my dad when I was eleven. Sometimes my mom would come down and watch, too, but she absolutely hated violent shows.

Next, I went upstairs into my bedroom. I bit down hard on my bottom lip when I walked past my parents' room.

My room was big enough to fit a full sized bed, a dresser, and a vanity. It was crazy to think that during my preteen years, I only left this confined space to use the bathroom and eat.

I traced my fingertips over the small chips in the wall next to the mattress frame. I used to hang dozens of pictures beside my bed. I couldn't remember where I'd put them all; the photos were of all my high school friends.

My mind didn't register that my legs were carrying me over to the master bedroom until I was past the doorframe of their room.

Between the ages four and six, I would wander in, crying my eyes out after having nightmares. The majority of the time, my mom and dad would let me sleep in their bed for the night. Though as I neared the age of seven, Dad would always walk me back to my room and remind me that I had to be a big girl.

"Daddy," I sobbed. "I miss you guys."

My back slid down the wall until I was sitting on the ground with my head in my hands. My body shook with silent, tearless sobs. I struggled to catch my breath. I lifted my head and leaned it against the wall, placing my palms flat on the ground.

"You're okay," I told myself; and I was.

Using the wall to steady myself, I stood up and left the room. The stairs felt twice as steep as they were when I walked up them. I had the railing in a death-grip.

I tried to hide how startled I was when the front door opened. Jane and Harry walked in, both swinging their gazes over the living room before focusing on me.

"I want to sell it," I stated certainly.

Jane cocked her head to the side. "Sell what?"

My eyes remained glued on the wooden floor. "The house."

"Do you want to think it over a little mo—"

"No." I shook my head. "No."

This was my way of letting go. I shouldn't be paying the mortgage for a house nobody's living in. It wasn't healthy for me to continue on doing so.

My voice sounded stronger when I asked, "Can we go?"

"Of course," Jane replied, opening the front door and stepping out.