Where she couldve told him “Hey, maybe stop working and focus on our wedding thats only in a couple of weeks?” She wonders if things couldve played out differently.
During the third our, she sulks indefinitely into her pillow in their shared room upstairs, wondering if hes even going to return within the limits of the day.
Then, a door clicks open from downstairs. Normally, she wouldnt have noticed it. But her sobbing has died down and she doesnt have any sort of noise blaring from the sound system or the television. She jumps up from the pillow, knees folded underneath her as she sits on the bed. She mentally debates as to whether she should plop back down onto the comfortable mattress (given how expensive it was), or whether he should run downstairs to talk things out to him. She chooses an area between her two options, slowly and cautiously tip toeing downstairs in her furry slippers.
And while, in any other situation, she wouldve found the extra rasp appealing, right now she finds his voice painful
She sees him, sitting alone on their couch with a head of unorganized curls sitting sadly on his head. He slouches down tiredly, a large white box with a lid sitting next to him.
She clears her throat quietly and he doesnt hear her. Working up all of her courage, she slowly asks “harry?” and he flinches.
She averts her eyes, slowly regretting her decision as she remembers the last conversation they shared. Her gaze meets the tips of her slippers, biting down on her lips to keep a cry from falling out of them. Walking down the rest of the stairs, shes overthinking, playing out every possible variation of the 
conversation they could have in her head and not considering the fact that they might actually work out.
The more she thinks, the more she wishes she wouldnt have gone downstairs, and instead she wishes she wouldve faked sleep for the rest of the night. They had fought before, but never like this. Never to the point where neither of them knew what to say, or where to start.
“It wouldnt do anything if I said I was sorry, would it?” He asks her. Y/n notices that Harrys voice is more gravelly than usual.
She looks up at him, making brief eye contact before averting her eyes to the floor again. Harry sighs as he takes in her actions as a response.
They stand in silence once again. Although somewhere, theyre both aware of the knowledge that their relationship will eventually work out, they both get the feeling that its hanging on by a thread. A grey cloud lingering over their shared home.
“I want to save us.” He tells her, breaking the silence once again. “Dont-” he catches a shaky breath, “Dont want to lose yeh.” He breaths. Y/n isnt able to hold back a sob as she lets it escape her sore throat, Harrys hears thudding a little harder as he hears her hurt.
He nearly leaps up from where hes sitting on the couch, his eyes quickly following her voice to the top of her stairs
“I know I messed up, not just today but for the last few weeks. I shouldve made you the most important thing, but instead I was selfish and I made you wait because I knew you would.”
“You made me feel like you didnt want to marry me.” She croaks out. The both make eye contact, tender and swollen eyes meeting each others, “Like I was just some nuisance and you regretted proposing to me.”