The problem with me was that I refused to be a pessimist

I always chose to believe the best in every situation. I chose to believe, somehow, that this would workout. That I could have my dreams of two kids and a white picket fence with a man who probably thought of me as nothing more than the girl on the side.

I shakily place my leg on the floor of the master bedroom, leaning down to pick up my undergarments from the floor

Cuddled into his side, a sudden noise makes us both jerk up from where we were lying. I immediately untangle myself from him as the sound of screeching tires pulls https://homeloansplus.org/payday-loans-in/ up to the driveway.

“I thought you said she wasnt supposed to be here until 10 tonight?” I asked him hurriedly. He doesnt stare at me, instead reaching down to the ground desperately to pick up his clothing.

“Harry?” He remains immersed in putting his clothes on, in a panicked state. I can tell a million thoughts are running through his mind at the moment, and as much as I dont want to stress him out, I dont know exactly what to do or how to fix the situation were in.

I quietly weep as I pick up my clothes, but he doesnt notice

“Shit.” He mutters under his breath when he accidentally puts his leg in the wrong pant hole. He quickly shakes his pants off and puts his legs in the appropriate holes while I stay staring.

“Harry what do I do?” I ask him again. He snaps his head over in my direction, his mood having changed rapidly.

“Not now y/n. Im thinking.” He whispers, trying not to be heard. The sound of a beep echoes from outside of the window, and we know shes now locking her car. The sound of heels clicking up while making contact with the pavement of the driveway resounds through the silence filled with tension.

Without warning, Harry begins breathing heavily. He walks up to the other side of the bed and begins tugging at the sheets, pulling them off of me forcefully.

He cuts me off loudly, covering my mouth with his large hand. My eyebrows furrow in confusion, and out of panic, tears begin to well up in my eyes. I had never seen the angry side of him and couldnt help but believe he was aiming his anger because of something I had done, even though I knew damn well this was all his responsibility.

“Get off the bed.” He whispers aggressively. The front door opens from downstairs. I remain frozen, still trying to process all the events taking place. His button up shirt is unbuttoned, and hopelessly, he throws it off. It was pointless to make it look like he hadnt been undressed just minutes ago, me on the other hand, it was necessary to be dressed just in case she walked in.

“Did you not fucking hear me? Get off!” He says quietly but rudely in response to the door opening. He remains too caught up in throwing the sheets back into place on the bed.

The loud noise of heels clacking against the wooden floorboards in the living room echoes up to the bedroom. He stressfully runs his fingers through his messy curls, trying to fix his hair after my fingers had entangled in them. To me, it seems as if he was trying to get any sign of me off of him, as if he was trying to wipe away any evidence that he had embarrassingly been with me.

“Oh my fucking god, could you take any longer?” I realize that Ive only put on my underwear. My bra remains hanging off of the edge of my pointer finger by its strap. He rushes over to me and takes it off of my finger, lifting my arms up and placing it on for me.

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