Night Changes

13

The rest of the week seemed to follow in a similar pattern.

Harry would wake early, usually before his alarm, and be out of the house before I was even awake. I wouldn’t hear from him at all during the day, with the exception of the rare text just letting me know he would be late, yet again.  Every evening, he would come home well after seven at night, tired, distracted and increasingly irritable.

All the meetings he had been hosting, from what he was telling me, were going well. There was the occasional issue, such as the network system for the office crashed and Zayn had to start all over, rebuilding the system. Or the rather arrogant and pushy owner of a local investment firm that Harry had a meeting with on Wednesday, who seemed to think that, because of Harrys youth, he had no business being the face of the company regardless of the fact that it bore his name. Since this was a fear that Harry himself had voiced since the venture began, this particular confrontation had set Harrys demeanor to surly from then on.

We hadnt spoken much, even when he returned home. I would ask him how his day went, he would give me a brief, sit com version overview while he ate his reheated dinner, rarely looking up from his plate. After finishing, he would retreat to the bathroom, comforting himself in a long, hot shower. He would emerge an hour later, his skin red from the heat of the water, his hair damp and falling in his eyes, sleep pants hung low on his hips, his torso bare. He would flop down on the couch, flicking mindlessly through the channels on the TV but rarely ever landing on one. Finally, by shortly after nine, he would kiss my forehead, and retreat to bed.

I had taught two classes at Ravas that week, and had been greeted back with open arms and overwhelming enthusiasm by the few members who had remembered me from before I left. It actually felt really good to be back, teaching again without the added stress and distraction of all the planning and adminsitration that had consumed the last few months of my time at Breathe.  Just going through the motions, and enjoying the workouts, was nice. It reminded me why I loved my job.  Plus, I had picked up three classes for next week, which was a bonus.

By Friday, we hadnt had sex once since our shower interlude before he had started his work week. For some, this may not seem like much. But for us? This was a big deal. Harry had the sex drive of a horny teenager, it not being unheard of for us to have more than one encounter in a day. So for us to not even have had any sexual contact all week, it only proved how distracted Harry really was.

I understood Harrys upset, and did whatever I could to try and make his home life relaxing and welcome. I made his favorite meals, although all of which ended up in the microwave having to be reheated when he got home well after dinner. I made sure the apartment was spotless, although Harry was never much of one to worry too much about that. Even so, I wanted to keep everything in order for him. One night, I even wore a short, black satin nighty, not something overly revealing or ‘fuck me now’ suggestive, but something I knew he would appreciate. The only response I got out of him was a ‘You look lovely’, and a kiss on the forehead before he retreated to the solitude of the bathroom.

Our first week in New York had not gone at all how I had hoped. 

I had planned on having evenings out, wandering the city. Little things like taking him for a walk through the park, or to the Stardust Diner in Times Square, where all the wait staff sang and danced like a Broadway show. I knew he would be busy, and probably be a little stressed about the venture, but I had also hoped that we could spend the evenings together, and that it would help to bring him back down. Put things into perspective as it were.