|| Love to Hate Me ||

{Forty-Five}

Harlan trailed kisses down the base of Liana's neck. The muggy warmth of his breath caused the fine hairs of her arms to rise as she tracked their hands through his dark hair.

God, she missed him.

She had thought about punishing him for making her mother stay while he was away. But for the life her, she couldn't do it.

He moved down the length of her body, continuing to plant kisses along her exposed flesh. She lied before him in only a bra and underwear, the budge of her belly acting as a barrier between them. Harlan's hands rested on the large bump, amazed by quickly it had grown in only a matter of weeks.

"The movers'll be here next week. I think you're gonna like it." Harlan settled between her legs—his hands on either side of her belly.

Liana smiled, staring at the ring on Harlan's finger that symbolized he was her husband. It was strange, considering nothing had really changed, only the title of his role in her life. But watching his large hands move along her growing belly, that title suddenly meant so much more.

"Three beds, two and a half bath-"

"Three beds?" Liana cut in. She had seen pictures of the new house, but hadn't noticed the room count.

"Hold your horses, the first one ain't even here yet." Harlan snickered, planting a kiss on her extended stomach. "Play room."

Liana ran her hands through his hair, hoping the baby had his eyes. "I can't believe I trusted you to pick out our house. You should've let me come with you, instead of shipping my mom out here."

"Knew it was comin'." Harlan smirked. He stared at her belly, hoping more than anything his baby girl looked like Liana. He prayed she was her mother made over—lord knows he was nothing but a train wreck. The only thing he hoped his daughter took after him was his mad guitar skills.

Harlan became lost in thought, wondering what all of his own father he had taken on. He wondered if Liana knew she had her father's nose, or the shape of his nail-beds. He suddenly felt guilty. "I did somethin' while I was in New York... somethin' I shouldn't have done." He admitted.

Harlan kept his eyes on her belly—his hands on either side of her navel. He couldn't look up; he couldn't dare see that disappointed look on her face.

Liana placed her hands on his wrists, stroking his skin with her thumbs. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't worried about Harlan relapsing. Every time he was away from her, she feared he'd take a drink.

"Did you drink?" Liana asked, dreading his answer.

"No." Harlan looked up with narrowed eyes. He couldn't believe she had such little faith in him. "I already told you baby, I'm done with that. I know what road it leads me down, never again, you hear me? Never. Again." Harlan intertwined his fingers in hers, his adjacent hand trailing down the lump of her belly. "I got two beautiful girls that need me."

"What did you do then?" Liana asked, giving Harlan's hand a gentle squeeze.

"I met somebody."

Her heart dropped.

She never thought he would stray; the thought never even crossed her mind. She always thought Harlan to be loyal, considering what all he himself had been through in his past relationship.