Chapter Text
It’s always fascinating how humans love to watch a disaster. A house burning, a car accident—something to burn through the numbness of your own life, something to make you feel less miserable. It's often a reminder how fickle life can be, ever-changing and fragile. Maybe it’s why all the wedding guests cannot tear their eyes away from the groom at the altar and his fiancé running back down the aisle. The lace floating around Harry's legs feel too itchy, the thin straps on his shoulders digging in uncomfortably. Someone is yelling. It's desperate, maybe Amy as she tries to run down the aisle in heels and her dangerously pale pastel pink dress to chase after Jack. Harry’s mind is blank, filled with cotton wool. He doesn't know where it started or ended but instead of kissing his husband, he’s now standing alone in front of all their guests. He remembers the start of vows, then Jack looking over Harry’s shoulder to catch the eye of someone and muttering ‘I can’t do this’. A gentle breeze brushes over the garden. It would be a beautiful moment if he wasn’t standing alone in front of 100 wedding guests. Glued to the altar, digging his nails into the palm of his hand.
“C’mon lets get you out of here,” Lexie whispers, stepping up to the altar and attempting to guide Harry away.
The numbness wears off slightly, Harry starting to feel the pain of his fiancé leaving. Death by a thousand cuts. Unshed tears brim at the corner of his eyes, but he stops just before they start the awful walk back down the aisle to the bridal suite. He can already feel the judgemental stares, the sympathetic looks. “Uh,” Harry has to clear his wavering voice. “The wedding reception is already paid for, so you may as well go ahead and take advantage of the free bar. Maybe I’ll see you there later.” He sends everyone a wobbly smile, before walking back down the rose petal covered aisle as fast as he could, Lexie hugging around him to hold him upright.
Harry bursts into hysterical laughter as soon as he steps foot into the bridal suite. Lexie looks incredibly concerned. “He LEFT me, Lex! Can you believe it?” There’s tears running into his mouth, but he just cannot stop laughing. It’s a confusing emotion. “Honestly, maybe it's a good thing. No more mediocre sex! We should get drunk! Where’s the champagne?” He feels a little drunk already. Lexie is eyeing him warily, maybe preparing to catch him if he crashes from the high. “I mean, I think he’s given me a total of four orgasms the entire time we’ve been together. Alllll the rest has just been me and my hand.” Harry wiggles his hand at her, suddenly remembering the garish engagement ring on his finger. It’s a huge diamond, shaped like a heart. Secretly, Harry had hated the ring but put it aside for his love for his fiancé. “I can finally get rid of this fucking thing!”
Jack showed his love in ridiculous, expensive presents and the ring, even their wedding, was no exception. Harry had wanted a simple garden wedding, maybe under an old oak tree in some local gardens. Instead, Jack had insisted on renting a huge mansion with one singular oak tree and a huge garden. He wretches open the doors to the balcony, watching guests float around the garden and flings his ring over the edge. It glitters in the late afternoon sun, arcing high and dropping into the maze of hedges below.
“H, sit down for a sec. Breathe with me.” Lexie's calming voice washes over Harry. Adrenaline kicks hard, his heart thumping in his head and making his hands quiver. Harry collapses onto the bed beside her, staring at the ornate ceiling. There’s an odd sense of freedom to the moment, although he finds himself reliving the moment Jack ran.
“Lex,” he dares to whisper. “Why did Amy run after Jack?”
She’s silent for a beat too long. Years of friendship means Harry knows her tells.
“Lexie, just tell me.”
Clutching onto his hand like a lifeline, Lexie inhales deeply. “I thought it was a one time thing.” Her voice is hardly a whisper. Fragile.
“You knew?” Harry roars, ripping his hand away from hers. Was the entire relationship a lie? Why? Was Harry not enough for Jack?
“Harry, listen to me. I caught them kissing like right at the start of your relationship. I don’t even think you were official with Jack yet. I confronted him, I was so so mad. I made him promise to tell you! I assumed he did because you guys took a little break! Harry, please believe me. I’d never keep something like that from you.”
Lexie's desperate, clinging onto him like a koala. The trust between them has always been unbreakable. Two lonely kids finding each other in school, bonding over their love for art. Supporting each other through discovering their queer identities. Laughing. Crying. Harry would be a fool not to believe her.
“I—” Harry is speechless. “Don't even know where to begin. I trust you, I really do, but I need to hear it from someone else."
She opens her mouth to speak, but Harry realises he just wants to chase an all encompassing numbness. Blur the memory. "Not tonight, no, we both look hot as fuck, let’s not waste it. Where's that champagne bottle?”
Their shared bottle of champagne sloshes over them messily as they jump on the bed screaming to messy breakup songs. They make a grand entrance into the reception, tipsy and giggling at the shocked looks on distant relatives' faces. Harry swipes a glass off the espresso martini tower, slurring out an apology when it falls over. Lexie giggles, dragging him onto the dance floor to create new memories of the day to try and cover the trauma. It’s only a band-aid, and Harry is going to have to rip it off at some point.
⟢
The room is spinning, Harry's head full with cotton. Sun screams through the sheer curtains of the honeymoon suite, nausea rolling low through his belly. His feet ache from hours spent on the dance floor, ignoring any sympathetic looks from distant family to ask for another cocktail. One of his signature cocktails, not the one Jack had concocted in the months of meetings with their wedding planner. Harry's stomach rolls when he remembers he is alone in the bed. The one they were meant to share. He bites back a laugh at the thought of their wedding night sex. Likely, Harry would have sucked Jack off; and just when he would feel like they were getting into it, Jack would have come, rolled over and fallen asleep.
His dress lies crumpled on the floor, the beautiful lace pooling against the lush carpet. Harry battles with himself, trying to ignore the dagger piercing his heart when he sees it. How can something so pretty be laced with venom? Something that he fought so hard for, something he thought he would treasure forever—now it's like cancer. Spreading rapidly, infecting every inch of Harry with utter devastation.
Harry drapes himself over the side of the bed, staring at his wedding dress and letting the tears fall. It's how Lexie finds him, her face instantly crumbling.
"Oh, Harry." She runs over to him, gathering him in her arms on the bed. Lexie has always been the person to put Harry back together again. She always reorganises the chaos in his brain, places the last puzzle piece to untangle his life.
"Am I unlovable?" Harry mumbles, "Why did he stay with me if he didn't love me? What did she have that I don't? A clit maybe—" He barks out a twisted laugh, squirming out of Lexie's grip to pace beside the bed. "But, I bet she couldn't ride him like I could. Maybe I'm not worthy of love like that; maybe it's carved out since time began. Harry Styles will never be loved like he could be. Surely it's carved somewhere. Was my entire relationship a sham? Some warped reality where I thought I was lovable." Lexie tries to interrupt him, multiple times, but Harry gets onto the bed, straddling her and keeping a finger over her lips. "I know, I have flaws. I'm not as pretty as her, and nowhere near perfect. But nobody is! And, I thought humans were meant to accept that. Lex, He—" Harry's bottom lip wobbles dangerously. "When did he stop loving me? Why did nobody tell me? How did I get here?"
Harry collapses beside Lexie on the bed, sobbing into her shoulder. She waits until his sobs subside slightly, when his shoulders stop shaking violently. "Harry, I love you. Your parents love you. Even the twinky barista at that little cafe loves you. I could stay here for weeks listing how many people love you. Your wedding planner probably even loves you a little. You're so easy to love. Loving you is worth it. You are worthy. You're worthy of love beyond anything you could ever imagine. And, one day, someone will be lucky enough to show you, and experience your love. I cannot speak for Jack, but all I know is that he didn't deserve you. Maybe you'll get answers from him one day but, for now, please let me love you. Let me show you how lovable you are." Lexie's voice wraps around him, like a warm hug. He opens his arms, letting her in for a cuddle.
"If only you weren't gay," Harry sighs. "We'd be such a good couple. Never arguing, just blissful domesticity."
Lexie snorts, "Don't think you could handle me."