I sat at the pub from the day before on my third beer. I was thankful the bartender knew Harry well enough and remembered me as I didn't have my wallet.

I traced the rim of my beer glass as I bit into a fry. I hated that I ran out on Harry like I did. I hated that he probably thought I was making it all about myself. I hated myself for not telling him what was going on back home.

I knew in my heart he would understand if I explained everything, but I didn't want to be saved. Not again. I didn't want him to feel a responsibility to help me like Charles did.

Charles, that was the other thing. I knew once I did explain everything, he would be so upset at me for telling Charles and not him. I kept digging my hole deeper and somehow blaming everyone else.

Of course not excusing Olivia's stupid article, but I knew I could have handled this better if I didn't have fifty other things piling on me. I didn't know who this person was. I hated not having a plan, a timeline, an answer. My ever so put together self was suddenly a giant mess.

Harry's POV

I paced around my living room checking my phone consistently, even though I knew she left her phone here.

"Where could she be?" I said to Becca, who was laying on the couch.

"Harry, she can't be far. She doesn't even have her purse on her."

"I'm just going to go look for her. I can't just wait around anymore."

I went into the room and grabbed my sweater and one for her, knowing she left without one and it was cold outside. My phone started ringing and it was Floyd from the pub down the street.

"Hello?" I said, placing the phone on speaker as I slipped on my sweater.

"Haz, can you come down? Your friend fell asleep, I may have served her one too many beers."

"My friend? Small, brunette?"

"Yup. And she's got a hefty tab I need paid."

I sighed rubbing my hand through my hair, "Thanks mate. I'll be right there."

I walked out past Becca, yelling out to her as I made my way out the door, "I found her Becks, I'll be back."

I quickly ran out and hopped in my car, not giving her a chance to ask questions.

At the pub, I walked, quickly making my way to the bar, "Hey mate." I called out to Floyd.

He turned to me, handing me a tab when he realized it was me and nodded his head to a back round booth, "Don't worry, I've kept the creeps away."

I threw some money on the bar to cover the tab, and some extra for Floyd, "Thanks again."

I made my way over to the booth, and when I got close enough, I saw my beautiful mess. Her hair in a messy bun, that I just knew she did and undid a couple times, until finally settling on the small nest of hair. Her head was nestled in her folded arms, and a single empty beer glass was left next to her.

The thing about seeing someone like Maggie a mess was, that it hurt more than it should. She was always so put together. So on top of everything. That when she crashed, she really burned herself down.

What hurt even more is knowing it was my circumstances that had made her burn down this time.

I slid slowly into the booth, as to not scare her, and kissed her cheek softly, whispering, "Maggie. Maggie honey, wake up baby."

She stirred a bit, before squeezing her eyes, opening them slowly, "Harry?" she whispered.

"Yeah baby, it's me."

She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes, blinking away the sleep, "How'd your find me?"

"Floyd called me, the bartender." I smiled softly, wiping away some crumbs that had stuck to her face.

"Oh. He's been really nice to me." She said, her words slightly slurred. She sounded so small.

"I bet he has, got you a little drunk even." I laughed a bit, and she nodded biting her lip. Then I saw it, exactly what I didn't want to see. The sadness in her eyes, and soon she was in tears,

"I'm sorry I walked away Haz, I shouldn't have walked away. It's just there is so much going on with my dad. And the house, and Olivia. And I told Charles. And I don't want you to be mad I told Charles. I just don't want to be a burden, so then you hate me. And—Hey, hey, baby. Shhh, that's, that's a lot that I obviously don't know. And it's okay. Right now, it's okay. We will talk about it later, okay? Right now, I just want to get you home. Okay?"

I searched her eyes, my heart hurting seeing her so hurt, but hurting because she felt like she couldn't tell me. My heart hurting because once again, she ran to Charles.

She nodded and wiped her face. I handed her the sweater and helped her slip it on, before we slid out of the booth. I held her as we walked to my car, and she waved bye to Floyd. We got in the car and headed home.

—

I woke up in the middle of the night, and my head was pounding. I looked around and was so confused as to how I made it to Harry's room. I slowly pushed myself up in bed and instantly was grateful the trash can was placed next to the bed as I double over and threw up.

"Woah, woah, okay, I'm coming," Harry said as he walked in. He was over by my side quickly, helping me hold back my hair. He rubbed my back softly, as I kept throwing up.

When my body finally stopped, he propped up some pillows, and sat me back against them. He reached over to the bedside table and handed me two ibuprofens and some ginger ale, "That'll help with your headache and the belly."

I nodded taking the pills one at a time, sipping slowly on the ginger ale. I swallowed, and heard myself croak out to him, "How'd I get here?"

"The bartender is my friend, so he called and I came to get you." He said, his smile small. His voice didn't carry the usual sweetness.

I nodded and chewed on my lower lip, "I'm sorry. I must have been a mess."

"A bit, but it's fine. We've all had our drunken days." he ran his fingers through his hair, looking up to the bedroom window.

"Are you mad at me?" I whispered.

"I don't know. If I'm being honest. Do you remember anything from when I got there?" His voice low.

"I really don't. I'm sorry." I said looking down, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

"Maggie," he took a deep breath, "What's going on back home? With the house? And please don't lie to me."

"How did you—you mentioned how you told Charles earlier." He interrupted me, and he didn't have to look at me, for me to know the hurt that was currently in his eyes. I knew the look, his pupils always so small, so much of the green taking over.

"Baby, I'm sorry I didn't mean—Maggie, just get to the point." I bit my lip, shifting in my spot.

"My parents never legally divorced. My dad technically owns the house. I don't know if I'll be able to keep the house or if it'll be turned over to the bank. So I don't know if Becca and I will have our home come the next month or two. If I keep my apartment month to month they will raise my rent a bit. I can't afford both right now. I just called Charles to vent, and he offered to lend me the money, but I haven't said yes. And he knows someone who can help me find my dad, so he's taking care of that."

I sat in silence as Harry processed everything, before he finally spoke softly, "Why didn't you tell me Maggie?"

"I didn't want you to have to take care of me. I didn't want what happened with me and a Charlie to happen to—I'm not Charles. When are you going to get that? You told me you didn't want me to be Charles. You wanted me to be something different, yet you keep comparing me to him. To your relationship. You don't ever allow me to help you solve anything in my own way. You found more comfort in venting to Charles than me. And you're supposedly in love with me."

"What do you mean supposedly, Harry. I am in love with you. I'm sorry I didn't come to you first. You are right, I need to turn to you, and not push you away. I'm aware of this. I am sorry I went to Charles. I really am." I was crying now. I felt horrible. Physically, mentally and emotionally.

He took a deep breath, resting his arms on his legs, holding his face on his hands. I wiped my nose on the back of my hand, and laid back further into the pillows, turning my face away from him.

"Jeff is putting out the response tomorrow. To Olivia's article. He is running the intoxication story, that we had been rocky for a while, since Olivia already breached the contract. Just so you know. I'm. I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight. Just call me if you need anything." He stood up without looking at me, grabbing the bag from the trash can and tying it up, replacing it with a new one. He walked out of the room without another word to me, and I couldn't help my breakdown once he was gone.