the social experiment // haylor au

twelve // answers and ideas

They didn't talk for over two weeks.

Not properly, anyway. The only communication between them was initiated by Harry, whose texts every couple of days went along the lines of "are you alright?" and "please take care of yourself." All her replies were one worded and made him want to tear his hair out.

But he sort of understood. She needed space. And he really tried to give it to her – it was the least that he could do, even though it was killing him. The radio silence was near driving him to madness. He was distracted at work, but felt antsy when he was at home – his apartment was way too quiet – and he couldn't sit in one place. He thought he must not be far from losing his mind at having a part of him go missing for so long. Harry been on so many jogs to clear his mind that he'd broken his personal record on his running app.

Most of all, he kind of wished he didn't know she was pregnant; because having to worry about two people's wellbeing was proving enough to do his head in. Three if he was going to count Kennedy.

Once, he'd briefly entertained the thought of Taylor leaving him for good and he'd given himself a near panic attack – so that thought was now completely buried in the back of his mind. He wouldn't know what to do with himself if that happened.

The silence between them was also killing Taylor. The shock of finding out her boyfriend had been keeping such a huge secret was heavy and paralyzing – she could barely get out of bed for the first two days after she'd found out. Enlisting Tom's help with Kennedy was all she could do before she'd allowed herself to wallow in a deep pit of misery and self-pity.

She'd lost track of the number of times she'd randomly burst into tears. The feeling of realizing she didn't know him as well as she'd thought she did, meant that she felt pressure in her chest every time she tried to breathe. She hadn't ever expected to feel this kind of betrayal from Harry. It literally felt like there was a crack in the middle of her chest, and the only person she wanted to help fix it was the cause of the pain in the first place.

She moved through the first week like a zombie, dragging herself out of bed and just barely feeding herself and functioning. She'd taken the week off work and spent most of her days curled up on the couch and binging Grey's Anatomy all day. When her daughter came home from school, it would take all her emotional strength pretend everything was okay and be her usual upbeat self.

A few times during those two weeks, Kennedy had asked her where Harry was, and she quickly made up a silly story about how he was working on a big project at work, and that he'd come see them soon. She really hoped that was true. Taylor didn't feel like dealing with the fallout from roping her kid into her and Harry's drama, and a big part of her hoped that it would be resolved soon. She just needed to get over her hurt.

And she did.

After a week, the initial shock and sense of betrayal had worn off, and the curiosity kicked in.

Who was she? How had they met? Where was Katie now? And why had they broken off their engagement? These questions kept her mind whirring all week. When she was at work, while she drove through traffic, at the grocery store... she needed to know.

And fuck, she missed him. That was the part she couldn't help.

She missed him so, so much. It was ridiculous really. And as mad as she was at him, she couldn't keep up her silent game for much longer. She missed watching him slice lemon for their morning tea, and how he wrapped his arms around her as they cuddled up and watched bad reality TV on her couch. She missed falling sleep in his embrace at night and waking up next to him the following morning. She really missed kissing him in the mornings (and the evenings), and God, did she miss him moaning in her ear when he was just on the edge.