Daddy Unknown

Chapter 43

When Moira had woken up this morning, the other side of the bed had been empty and cold like usual -or since Harry had been discharged from the hospital anyway. And she was sick and tired of having to make an effort to interact with him. It shouldn't be this hard. It hadn't been before the accident so why now? What had she done wrong this time?

Moira was determined to get answers to her questions. And so, she'd dressed into a basic outfit, dressed Ollie in one of his onesies and gone downstairs to make them both some breakfast.

But when she'd entered the kitchen, her heart had momentarily stopped beating.

On the counter sat an open ring box, with inside; a stunner of a diamond ring. Though not just a ring, it was quite obviously made for one purpose and one purpose alone. It was an engagement ring. And judging by the note that lay beside the box, with 'Moira' written on it. It was hers.

To say she was confused would be the understatement of the century. He did not jump out from underneath the table or surprise her with a bottle of Moët, and even as the hours passed, he did not even leave his music room to see how she liked her 'present'.

It was just a ring and a one-word note. Nothing more.

Harry had never been cheesy-romantic, more of the genuine-romantic type. She hadn't expected him to propose on top of the Eiffel Tower while they were on a romantic getaway, but she hadn't expected him to be so... apathetic about it either. He was the one who'd brought up the whole marrying subject after all.

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"What is this?"

He briefly looked up from the piano, where he had been scribbling down cords in his notebook. With narrowed eyes, he inspected the object in question for a few seconds and then looked back down as he muttered, "It's a ring."

Moira snorted and rolled her eyes. " I can see that, but why?"

"I proposed to you, remember? In the hospital."

"You called that a proposal?"

He nodded absently, and continued to scribble in that little black book of his -the one thing he'd spent more time with than Moira and Ollie together lately.

"Fine." Moira scoffed, and left without another word. But when she was out in the hallway, she changed her mind. Stomping back into the room and slamming the door in the process, she made quite the dramatic entrance.

"You know what? No. It's not fine. Put that damned notebook away and talk to me, please." She pleaded the last part.

Soundlessly, he complied to her wishes, closed his notebook and rose from the piano bench. They exited the music room together and made their way to the living room where each of them took a seat of the couch.

"Why are you not wearing it?"

"What?"

"The ring," he clarified. "Why are you not wearing it?"

Moira sighed and rubbed her temples. "I'm not going to wear it if you're not asking me properly, Harry. Call me old-fashioned but that's how it is."

He watched her with evident perplexity. "I already asked you.."

"Are you serious? You were in a hospital bed and I was standing at least 8 feet away from you. You didn't get down on one knee or actually asked me to marry you. All you said was that you wanted to make me your wife. That sure as hell is not a proposal." With this off her chest, she felt instant relief wash over her.