Elude [H.S.]

EIGHT

NO POV

Maeve practically fumbled her way through the conversation with Conrad after Harry left her room. It was everything she could do to swallow down the lump in her throat to continue speaking to him as if nothing had happened. She could barely pay attention to what he was saying - not hardly asking her how her trip was going after briefly asking her what dinner was like tonight. All Conrad was talking about was himself and the potential business deals he was going to secure while away.

"I'm sorry, Conrad, I'm really sleepy. It's a little past one in the morning here. Do you think we could talk more tomorrow?" Maeve asks, trying to get off the phone as soon as possible so she can go talk to Harry.

"What am I fucking boring you with my work talk? This is about our life, Maeve. Without these deals you have nothing. Do you understand?" Conrad snaps and Maeve flinches. Even him yelling at her through the phone causes her to cower.

Maeve sits at the edge of her bed, propping her elbow up on her thigh and holding her forehead in the palm of her free hand - her other hand still holding the phone to her ear. "No, no, love," she sighs out. "You're not boring me. I'm just tired. Had a long day in the sun and you know the sun makes me more tired than usual."

It goes silent on the other end for quite some time, causing Maeve to raise her head back up and focus. "Conrad?"

"I'm here," he answers bitterly. "I'll let you go. I'll call you tomorrow once you're home and you actually want to listen."

Conrad ends the call before Maeve can get another word and she looks down at the black screen. She stands and turns around to face the bed. With a groan of frustration she throws her phone down onto the plush surface and runs her fingers through the front of her hair - tugging on it.

How could she let this happen? How could she allow herself to grow so conflicted?

Quickly exiting her room, Maeve travels two doors down to Harry's and knocks on the it. She waits a few moments before knocking again, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Harry?" She croaks, resting her forehead against the wooden surface. "Harry, please open the door. I can explain."

Time passes and the door still doesn't open. Maeve presses her ear to it - trying to detect any type of movement on the other side but she doesn't hear anything. She rests her forehead against the surface once again and lets out a shallow breath.

"I couldn't let the call go to voicemail. The one time I've missed a call from him in our relationship he went ballistic and tried to accuse me of being somewhere I wasn't supposed to be," Maeve begins to explain.

She blinks heavily which causes the large tears that had been building up to rush down her cheeks.

"If I didn't answer he would know something was wrong and I...I can't handle being yelled at like that."

Maeve continues to patiently wait for any type of acknowledgement from Harry but it doesn't come. The lump in her throat grows and her hands begin to tremble as she places one of them against the door. She curls it into a fist and slams it on the surface again - harder than she had done any of the times before.

"Please, Harry. I already feel so unseen by him. I can't be unseen by you too."

She chokes out a sob and then gasps, immediately bringing her other hand up to her mouth to cover it.