5 months later...
"I wish we had a little more time this morning for.. other things," I trail biting my bottom lip as I hand H his coffee and peck a kiss on his soft pink lips. I pull on his tie till his lips land on mine and smile between multiple kisses.
"I can be a little late," H whispers as I giggle and shake my head at him pulling away.
"We both know you can't, this is a big deal Ashton Martain is the big time when it comes to art dealing. Just try to hurry back," I tell him sauntering away to pour my own cup of coffee. He comes up behind me and clasps his hands together around the top of my bulging stomach. "Don't keep me waiting too long," I tell him giggling feeling his lips trail up my neck until he reaches my jawline.
"I'll be back as soon as I can!" Harry tells kissing my cheek before letting me go and bolting out the door with is coffee in one hand and work bag in the other. I sip my coffee methodically watching him leave, the silence settling over the house right after he slams the door shut.
I perch myself up onto the countertop and sip my coffee siling to myself as I sort through the photos on my phone. H and I had really worked things through these past few months, we cried together, laughed together, and had more sex then should be humanly possible.
I had come to understand him and even though I hadn't fully agreed with some of his beliefs and actions I came to terms with the fact that I couldn't change who he was or what he had been through. H was who he was and no one could come in and change that, his life events even though tragic shaped him into the man he was. There was no undo button to press, he was a human being and that goes for everyone.
I understood why he was the way he was after much discussion and crying over the past. There was no doubt that his mother was the victim of her own demons as well. She was Harry's version of a monster but in actuality she was a mentally ill woman, being masked by her illness that went without treatment. She fell victim to her demons that lived inside of her head but I wasn't going to let that happen to Harry or H. I loved them both despite Harry hating me.
I hadn't seen any trace of him. It's almost as if he has disappeared and nor did H and I ever speak of him. For a long time I had the constant urge to ask relentlessly but as time took over his presence dimmed in my mind.
H occupied my mind and actually, he made me happy. His hostilities and violent tendencies became less and less of a threat. I helped him learn different ways of coping, I wanted to end this cycle of abuse in his life, I couldn't have that be passed on to our baby.
I am not saying he is perfect but he is getting better, that's not to say that he also struggles because he does and we still do but we have come to an understanding between the two of us. I know that even if he does get violent he isn't going to hurt me, he can't hurt me even if he wanted to. I light up his darkness as he likes to say. He doesn't want to smother out the only light he has as he puts it.
But we are happy.
I love him.
And I like to believe he loves me too.
H wasn't the sociopath he portrayed to be, he was just a broken little boy behind his dangerous facade he put on. He masked his pain with violence because that was the only way he knew how to hide who he really was.
I hear a knock on the door and avert my eyes to the front door. I look at his pajama-clad self and feel the bedhead worsen due to having to answer the door in the state I was in. Since I was ready to pop any day now I had thrown any care for my appearance out the door, I was too uncomfortable to care much about what I looked like. This baby sucked the life out of me to some degree.
