how we fell apart 🥀
a few words too many. l Holland March
Holland March [The Nice Guys] x Reader
warnings : alcohol; big fight; lots of nasty words; some blood; tears; Holly; Holland behaving badly
note : when fear takes control, we destroy what we love.
a/n : "How We Fell Apart" is almost a twin version of 💔 a few ways to break your heart 💔 [masterlist]. This time, someone else will break our hearts. But will we ever be able to mend them?
[Ryland Grace masterlist][main masterlist] [how we fell apart series]
The front door slammed into the wall hard enough to rattle the picture frames hanging in the hallway. You shot up from the couch immediately.
“Holland?”
A second later, he stumbled into the living room smelling like whiskey, cigarettes, and the damp night air. His tie hung loose and crooked, the collar of his shirt stained with blood. There was a small cut on his cheek and a bruise already darkening along his jaw.
Your stomach dropped. “Oh my God.”
“I’m fine,” he answered automatically.
“You don’t look fine.” Your eyes scanned him carefully, searching for more cuts, more bruises.
Holland shrugged and tossed his jacket onto a chair, nearly losing his balance in the process. “The other guy looked worse.”
“That’s not funny.”
“Was it supposed to be?”
You stepped closer and quickly pulled the other chair out for him. “Sit down. I’ll get the first aid kit and…”
“I said I’m fine.” This time his voice was firmer.
“Jesus, Holland, you’re bleeding.”
“And you’re overreacting.”
There was something rough in his tone that made you stop mid-step. Still, you quickly convinced yourself he was just exhausted. It was well past midnight, and the state he came home in made it obvious the night had gone badly.
Carefully, you reached for his hand. “Please, baby. Let me help you.”
But he yanked his arm away so sharply you actually flinched backward. “I said stop.”
Silence. Time seemed to freeze for a few heartbeats.
You swallowed hard. “Why are you acting like this?” you asked quietly, even though it felt like you were standing on thin ice.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m doing something to you. I don’t know…”
Holland let out a bitter laugh and headed for the kitchen. “Because apparently everyone thinks I need saving these days.”
You frowned, confused, but followed him anyway. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to. It’s in your eyes.”
He grabbed a glass and filled it with water. That was when you noticed the skin on his knuckles had been split open.
“Holland… Sweetie…”
He swallowed a few mouthfuls before setting the glass down against the counter with a sharp clink.
“What?” he snapped suddenly, spinning around toward you. “You got another speech prepared? Gonna tell me I drink too much again? Or that I get punched too often? Or maybe I screwed something else up, huh?”
Your lips parted in surprise, and for a moment you couldn’t answer.
“I’m worried about you,” you finally managed quietly.
“Yeah? I’m getting a little tired of that, sweetheart.” His jaw tightened. “You turning me into some kind of fucked up project you wanna fix?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You really don’t know?” His eyes darkened as he looked at you — anger, frustration, fear all tangled together. “You’re always trying to fix me. Change me.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“You think so?” He planted his hands on his hips, staring at you.
“Yes.” You stepped closer despite every instinct telling you not to. “I love you. I’m trying to help you. Support you.”
“Help me? Support me?” Holland mocked with a sharp laugh. “Wow. That’s sweet. Here I was thinking you were just trying to repair everything broken inside me.”
“Holland…”
“No, go ahead. Be honest for once. I will too.” His voice rose as he held up a hand, ticking points off on his fingers. “You want me sober. Responsible. Reliable. Someone you can count on. You want me to…”
“I want you alive!” you cut in suddenly.
That shut him up. Tears burned painfully behind your eyes already. Your throat felt so tight it hurt to swallow. How had things gotten this bad in only a few minutes? You were standing there like enemies when all you had wanted was to help him.
But Holland was too angry now, too deep inside whatever panic had taken hold of him. He had latched onto one fear and refused to let it go. When he spoke again, his voice had gone cold.
“You want me to be someone else. Someone better. For you.”
“That’s not true,” you whispered. “You know it isn’t.”
“You thought I wouldn’t notice?” He stepped closer. Slow. Predatory. “The way you look at me. The way you lecture me. I see the disappointment every time I screw something up.”
“I’m not disappointed in you.”
“You should be.”
You felt suddenly small in front of him. Vulnerable. He had to see it, but he kept going anyway, and every word hurt worse than the last.
“You know what?” His jaw clenched tightly. “What you’re doing to Holly… that’s not fair.”
You blinked. “W-What?”
“She got attached to you.” His gaze dropped away like he couldn’t bear looking at you anymore. “You let her think you’d always be around. That she could rely on you. That you two were… friends or something.”
“I never lied to her. How can you even say that?”
Dragging Holly into this felt like a punch below the belt.
Holland shook his head. “You’re playing house, and eventually she’s gonna need you. Then you’ll leave.”
“That’s cruel.”
“Cruel?” he scoffed. “You know what’s cruel? When you finally realize I’m exactly as messed up as you expected, that you can’t fix me, and you leave anyway.”
Tears spilled down your cheeks. You wiped them away quickly with the back of your hand.
“You wouldn’t be saying this if you weren’t drunk,” you said, voice trembling with emotion. “I don’t know what you’re so scared of that you’re trying to hurt me first, but this isn’t you.”
Something flickered across his face for half a second. Regret or pain. But the damage had already been done, and when he spoke again, it felt like the final blow.
“Maybe you should find somebody you actually deserve.”
The world stopped. The silence afterward was terrifying.
You stared at the man you loved as if he had suddenly become a stranger. Your mind went completely blank. You couldn’t force a single word out.
You didn’t hear the floor creak behind you.
“Dad?”
Both of you turned toward the hallway. Holly March stood there in her pajamas, eyes still sleepy, but awake enough to understand exactly what she was seeing. The shouting must have woken her.
“What happened?” she asked quietly. “Are you fighting?”
Neither of you answered. It was you who moved first. Slowly, mechanically, because you couldn’t feel anything anymore, you reached for your coat hanging beside the door. That sobered Holland up almost instantly.
“Wait,” he said.
You ignored him, trying to push your shaking hands through the sleeves.
“Dad? What’s going on?” Holly’s gaze darted between the two of you, panic and confusion spreading across her face.
“She’s leaving,” Holland muttered.
And the second the words left his mouth, he felt sick. Because it sounded real. Too real. The moment you grabbed your keys, he finally stepped toward you.
“Hey, hey. Wait a second...”
But you couldn’t even look at him anymore. You didn’t want him near you. Didn’t want him touching you, speaking to you, looking at you.
Holly shifted nervously on her bare feet. “But… you’re coming back, right?” she asked softly. “You’ll come back to us?”
That stopped you for a moment. Your fingers tightened painfully around your keys. You didn’t know what to say. Promises would’ve been cruel. Giving her hope only to rip it away later. Your silence was enough. Holly’s eyes widened. She didn’t move as you opened the door, letting freezing night air spill into the house.
“Baby,” Holland tried again, his voice quieter now. Almost pleading. “Please.”
But it was too late. Too many blows had landed for you to stay. A moment later, all they heard was your engine starting and your car disappearing down the empty street.
Holly slowly turned toward her father, fury burning in her eyes. “You ruined everything,” she said accusingly.
“Holly…”
“I hate you!” she screamed. “You always do this! She loved us! She was ours! And now we’re gonna be alone forever because you can’t stop being scared!”
“Baby…” Holland looked at his daughter with naked shame. He stepped toward her, but she backed away.
“You said those things to her… How could you?” Her voice cracked. “You wanted her to leave! You’re a fucking coward!”
And the worst part was that she was right. He knew she was.
He watched Holly disappear into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her, and all he could think was that she was absolutely right. He had been so terrified of getting hurt that he struck first. Even when you were vulnerable. Even when, like always, you had only been reaching for him. You had never done a single thing to hurt him, and he had thrown every cruel word he could find directly into your face.
Holland collapsed heavily onto the couch and dragged both hands over his face, feeling them shake. Then he looked up. Your sweater still lay over the back of the couch. Your earrings rested on the coffee table. The book you had been reading while waiting for him was still there.
Everything was there except you.
And suddenly the house felt unbearably empty. He sat alone in the dark, feeling like someone had ripped his heart out and thrown it into a blender. Every word he’d said echoed mercilessly in his skull until it made him sick. He couldn’t believe this had happened. That he had done this. But he had, and now he had to live with it.
He ruined everything.
Exactly like he always knew he would.
thank you for reading <3
