Remission [H.S. MATURE AU]

39.

"Are you serious?!"

"Yes." He raises his voice. "I feel like I'm a father of two. I feel like I'm constantly having to do with another child." He frustratedly says, passing both of his hands over his face again.

"Well... this explains a lot. You can't parent one child, let alone two." The words come out without thinking about it too much. I felt hurt and I wanted to hurt him too. I avoid to look at his face when I pronounce those words, I quickly turn around but he's quick enough to stop me, by grabbing my wrist. He tugs at my wrist and forces me to turn around toward him again.

"Don't make me say things about you I'll regret, because I'd have a lot to say." He threatens me, nearing his face to mine. I bring both of my hands to his chest and I push him away from me.

"You should already regret all the nasty stuff you told me so far." My voice gets incredibly pitchy and I feel desperately on the verge of crying, but I try to hold myself back in front of him. "I'm not your punching bag. You can't just take it out on me whenever one of your cases doesn't end up well." I sniff and then I capture my lower lip between my lips, to physically hold myself back from crying. He lowers his stare and I can see flashing in it some form of regret for a second, that he quickly pushes back.

"I'll sleep in the guest room for tonight." He just murmurs, surpassing me with his stare low, to leave the room. It doesn't feel right to keep fighting and asking for the attention he doesn't want to give me, so I just let him go and when I hear him slamming the door behind his figure, I finally feel free to let myself go and cry myself to sleep.

*

I had woken up in the middle of the night shaken up by a deep feeling of anguish and anxiety. I couldn't fall asleep anymore, so I had taken a really cold shower and gotten ready to leave for the day. I didn't want to see Harry this morning and I'm not planning to spend the weekend with him and Andres either.

I had just shoved some clean clothes in a duffel bag and I had quietly left. No messages or any other kind of advice for him. If he doesn't care enough to tell me whenever he comes back home, or whenever he can't come back home, then I won't either.

I hadn't texted my mom, I hadn't told her that I was going to stop by, even because it was really early in the morning. Thankfully, she left me a key for any kind of emergency.

When I had gotten there, she was still sleeping, as I had imagined. After all, Saturday mornings are to sleep in. I had decided to cook breakfast for us, to keep myself busy, so when she finally wakes up and comes to the kitchen she seems quite surprised to see me here.

"Scar... oh my God, you scared me." She brings her hand to her chest while she looks at me sitting on my usual stool. I force myself to smile at her, to show her that everything is fine. Which, obviously, is not.

"What are you doing here this early?" She asks me, coming in and sitting down when she sees an already full plate at her usual spot at the counter.

"I made breakfast..." I shrug my shoulders, keeping my stare low, not really knowing how to answer.

"Well, I can see that..." my mom says, taking her fork and tasting the crumbled eggs I've made. "It's very yummy!" She tells me with a kind smile, stretching her arm across the table to reach my hand with hers. I'm not sure if she's only saying that to make me feel better, in case she noticed there's something wrong with me, or if she actually means it.

"What's wrong, honey?" She finally asks me, when she notices that I have no intention of starting talking about it, without her asking first, but I'm not sure I want to talk about it at all.