Pregnant Pause [H.S]

Chapter 25

Are 

The first time I left the flat for something other than work without any outside encouragement was on an early Friday evening. I changed out of my work clothes, fished my iPod out of my car and embarked on what I intended to be a long run.

This quickly devolved into a short run. The city was in rush hour and I couldn't cross a street without being honked at or run down a stretch of pavement without zigzagging in and out of people. I returned to the flat drenched in sweat, holding my aching side and panting hard, but feeling unproductive and muddled nonetheless.

When I burst through the door, Fitz was there, sitting on a stool outside the kitchen and chatting casually to Finley and Niall. Those two had been careful to stand at safe distances from one another since Fitz and I had walked in on them going at it, but in that moment, they were shoulderto-shoulder as they stood and leaned against the back of the couch, arms folded across their chests while Fitz rambled on.

All three of them looked up in shock as I entered as though they'd been in the midst of plotting my murder. I halted in the entrance as I ripped out my ear buds one at a time and surveyed the scene: Finley, lips pursed and brow furrowed; over to Niall, innocent blues and sheepish smile; stopping to linger on Fitz, expression blank, neither warm nor cold.

I could have stared at her and puzzled for the rest of the day, but at the same time, I felt that if we locked eyes for another second, I'd be unglued.

So, without a word, I averted my eyes and strode to my bedroom, bending my head and lifting the collar of my shirt to wipe the sweat from my forehead. As I passed the three in the common area, they shifted behind me. The stool scraped against the floor.

"Harry," came Fitz's voice in a calm plea, and I stopped in place, not bothering to turn around. "I only came by to drop off your things." When I stayed in place, still showing her the back of my head, she elaborated, "Your stuff from my flat."

I balled my hand into a fist over my ear buds, using my other hand to push back my damp hair as I looked over my shoulder. She'd hopped down from the stool as if she'd intended to follow me, but none of my belongings were in sight.

"Yeah," I said, my eyes scanning the kitchen counter and the living room. "Looks like I left a lot there."

In fact, I had left a lot there. Nothing important or irreplaceable – underwear, socks, work and casual wear, toiletries, maybe a mobile charger and USB cords – but things I'd thought about. Things I'd considered, but decided against retrieving from her flat... partially because I didn't want to be the one to initiate contact, partially because seeing her and speaking with her, even over trivial things, was heart-shattering, and partially – mostly –because that meant it was all over. Nothing left to do or exchange. We would be well and truly finished with one another.

She shrugged, not bothered that I'd implied she was lying. "I put it away for you."

My eyes shot up to meet hers, and from the way she bit her lip, it was clear she instantly regretted what she'd said. She wasn't supposed to take care of me.

"All right," was all I could think to say.

"That's everything I could find," she added hastily. "And, um... I left my key to your flat on your dresser."

"Oh, right..." Niall chimed in awkwardly. From his pocket he produced a silver key, holding it in the air. "I took that. Lost mine ages ago. Think it's under the couch or... behind my bed... maybe at work somewhere..."

"You can just return mine whenever," Fitz said, ignoring Niall. "Or give it to Niall and he can give it to me. Doesn't matter, I suppose."

"I'll get it now," I said stiffly.