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.
Hmm. She was really missing him tonight.
Letting out a deep breath, she gave up on trying to sleep. It had been more than two weeks since she and Harry had last seen each other and enough had to be enough. She yanked the charging cable out of her phone and padded across her wooden floors, to pull some sweatpants out of her closet.
It was five minutes until 3am – hardly a polite time to be showing up to someone's home unannounced, but she had to do this. They were past a boiling point. Grabbing her keys, she darted into the cool night air, grateful it wasn't too cold out, because she'd neglected to bring a hoodie. In about twenty minutes (yes, she might have been speeding a little), she had been parking her car in the parking complex at his building and she opened their text conversation.
The last message he'd sent was a good morning text the day before – she'd left him on read. Stretching her thumbs, she pulled up the keyboard and quickly typed "I'm at your door". Even if he was asleep, that would wake him up – Harry was one of the lightest sleepers she knew.
As she smiled at the doorman and slipped into the elevator in the deserted foyer, she saw her message had been Read at 3.17PM. Although she was a little nervous, the giddiness of seeing Harry for the first time in ages overshadowed her anger, her annoyance, her hurt – all that she could feel was longing.
Stepping out of the lift, she saw him immediately, standing just outside his door, his eyes scanning the hallway. When their eyes met, it felt as if time had paused and everything around them fell away. She didn't even know why she had been avoiding him for so long now that he was in front of her. Almost involuntarily, she leapt into his arms, and he embraced her with no hesitation at all.
"Oh babe, don't cry," he whispered into her skin, but it was too late. All her emotions crashed into her at once, and Taylor felt extremely overwhelmed in that moment. She'd been wanting to sob in his arms and be comforted by him for two weeks now, and she was glad to have finally gotten her chance. He felt horrible. Harry never wanted to be the reason she was hurting.
He led them slowly inside and shut the door behind the two of them, settling them on the couch in his living room and waiting a short while for her breathing to slow and her sniffles to stop, before beginning.
"Taylor, I'm so sorry. You don't know how sorry I am," he'd croaked in his tired voice.
She had stopped crying but her face was buried in his sweatshirt, and she was trying to breathe normally. They sat in silence together for a few minutes, Harry just relieved to be reunited with her. Even if she was extremely angry at him – he could take that – as long as she was there with him.
After Taylor had left a giant wet patch on the front of his top – God, she'd missed how he smelled: of fresh laundry and grapefruit body wash – she gathered the strength to unlatch from him and look up through her soaked eyelashes.
"Who is Katie?" she breathed; her question barely audible in the silence of Harry's apartment. Harry noted, with great relief, that she didn't sound angry at him. Instead, he sensed... insecurity? Taylor seemed timid and apprehensive with her question.
Taylor was jealous.
Harry had always only been hers. She had never considered the possibility of him in a serious relationship with someone else. This feeling was so foreign to her, and she'd hated it the past two weeks. Harry pulled his fingers through his hair and began. He'd prepared for this question during the hours and hours he's spent in his own head lately.
He looked down and found Taylor's shiny eyes looking up at him and his heart broke again. Fuck. He had never meant for it to go like this.
"I met Katie in high school," he began, and he could see she was holding onto every word he was saying, "We got together after uni and uh—" he sighed, choosing his words carefully, "we got engaged a few years later."
He went quiet, and Taylor was bemused because he was being so short and not giving any details. She quickly butted in— "Harry. Where is Katie now?"
She was getting a bit impatient, and she really needed to make sure that Harry's mysterious ex was not going to make a sudden return anytime soon.
Harry averted his eyes and sighed.
"Katie passed away, Taylor."
-
Harry came from behind and wrapped his arms around his fiancé—fiancé, that had a nice ring to it, he thought – and dropped a kiss on top of her head. His sister appeared from around the corner and made gagging sounds as she pulled a plate from the cabinet and began setting out the cookies that she and Katie had baked earlier.
"Stop being so clingy," Katie laughed as she spun around and placed a soft kiss on Harry's lips. They tasted sweet. "I'll be right back," she giggled, as he tried to launch a tickle attack on her, and she grabbed the car keys.
It was the holidays and Harry and Katie had gone back to Holmes Chapel to enjoy the holidays with their families. As his mother had insisted; Harry and Katie had been staying with Harry's family since they'd driven up from London. They'd spent the past few days playing Scrabble with his sister and mother, baking holiday themed treats, playing in the snow, and taking long meandering walks into town.
A few minutes ago, though, Katie had informed him that she had to drop by her parents' place to pick up part of a super-secret Christmas gift for Harry.
"You know I don't like surprises," Harry pouted, as she shrugged on her coat. He knew she thought he was so cute when he did that. Katie's hand came up to his cheek and stroked it gently with her thumb.
"I promise. You're gonna love this one."
-
"And you never saw her again?" Taylor gasped, her jaw hanging slack. Her blood ran cold as he detailed how some drunk driver had slammed into Katie as she was taking off from a stop light, and she'd died on impact. Tears pooled in her eyes. She had been prepared to be furious at him when she'd left her house – to be completely jealous of this mysterious woman – but her resolve was shattered, and all she could feel was sympathy and sorrow for the young woman whose life had been cut short so senselessly.
"Oh Harry," she fell into his embrace and began sobbing all over again, completely overwhelmed. "I'm so sorry this happened," she said, in between sniffles.
Harry had his arms around her, as tight as was possible without suffocating her, as if he was making sure she was there, and wishing he could hold her in his arms for an eternity. "It's alright, really. I'm over the depression and trauma, really. What matters most to me right now, is that you're here and you understand that I never meant to keep this from you... It's just that, the longer we knew each other, the more it felt like a terrible time to tell you that I'd omitted this kind of information," he sighed and shifted them both so he could rest his head along the arm-rest of the couch, and she was snuggled into his chest.
'I don't agree with keeping secrets from your psychologist, but God, I kind of get it," she mumbled into his sweatshirt.
"It's enough to make a man go crazy," he whispered into the darkness with no humor present at all in his voice.
"I wish I could've helped you. I could have helped you," Taylor pouted and tapped his chin so that he would look down at her. Harry let out a little chuckle and pressed a kiss on her forehead.
"You did, Taylor. You gave me friendship, and love and," he paused and made sure she was looking at him – she was – "and you gave me a family."
Her eyes immediately widened, and he quickly added, "—you and Kennedy are the brightest sparks in my life." He said slowly, with his thumb gently stroking her cheek. The sleepiness was catching up to him and he was ready to suggest they called it a night.
She grabbed his hand and guided it to her still-flat midriff, which woke Harry up a bit. "Harry, you gave me a family too," she laughed breathily, and Harry knew; this was it. He wanted to give her the opportunity to tell him about the baby – it was her body after all. And now that she had, he felt the last piece of his sanity click into place.
"I'm pregnant, Harry."
He quickly sat them up so that he could finally inspect her, and make sure that she looked okay – which she did – except for the dark rings around her eyes betraying her lack of sleep lately. He pushed the stray hair away from her face and beamed.
"God, you don't know how long I've been wanting you to say that," he'd almost groaned, at the last weight being lifted off his shoulders. Harry peppered kisses all over her face and squeezed her tight; confirming that she was there and that she was indeed real. He couldn't believe this was his life. He couldn't believe it was happening like this, with a woman he felt like this about.
"Wait –" her toned changed to incredulous, "Harry how did you know?"
She was sure she hadn't started showing and wouldn't start for a long while still. He was the first person she had told about the baby; not even her mother knew. The only other person who knew was her gynecologist, and that couldn't really have been helped.
"I found the test in the bin," he breathed. He still couldn't help smiling even as he said it. Taylor's eyes were wide, shining in the dim lighting of his living room, where the only light came from the kitchen.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Harry," she looked up at him through her eyelashes and leaned into his chest, sighing. "I had to get my head around it, and I was going to tell you – but then you went and dropped a bombshell of your own." Another sigh.
"No, no," he cooed, "I wanted you to tell me in your own time. It's your body, and I wanted you to have the time you needed to decide what you needed..." he trailed off, which made Taylor raise her head and stare at him quizzically.
"Did you..." she trailed off gently, pausing to gather her thoughts for a second. The tiredness was really catching up to her. "Harry, I want to have your baby," she laughed breathily, and felt his body relax around her and Harry pulled her closer. His chin rested on her head, and he breathed her in. He was so relieved. He would have supported Taylor's decision if she has decided not to have the baby, but this was so much better.
He was gonna be a dad!
"You have no idea how happy I am right now," he whispered into her hair. He thought he could cry in that moment. He was emotionally raw and exhausted. They were having a baby, and a long conversation needed to be had very soon about a lot of things – medical and financial plans, moving in together, where they would live, if she wanted to get married because of the baby – but tonight was not the time for that, and she let him know exactly that. They were both dead on their feet.
After a few more minutes of them lying on the couch and stroking her hair, while she seemed to be teetering on the edge of sleep, he whispered to ask if he could take her to bed. She nodded and allowed herself to be helped up off the couch and down the hall.
As they made their way slowly to his bedroom, Taylor's attention was caught by something in the corner of her eye. The door to the guest room across from Harry's was wide open and she could see it had been cleared out of all furniture and the walls had been painted a soft blue color. As she'd entered, she saw there were two boxes of unassembled baby furniture – one of them held a changing table, and the other a crib. There were a few other boxes of baby necessities stacked neatly in the corner, but what had caught her attention in the first place had been a beautiful, classic looking rocking chair in the middle of the room.
"Harry," she breathed in awe, taking in the room around her. "When did you do this?"
He leaned against the doorway, looking shy. "The past two weeks, I guess," he shrugged, the blush creeping up in his cheeks. He quickly added, "This doesn't mean I want you to move out of your place or even that the baby needs to live here... I was just bored and excited and trying to flesh some ideas out. Chair's really good for thinking," he down looked at his feet and smiled a little.
Taylor joined him back in the doorway and placed a small kiss on his cheek, wrapping her arms around his torso she looked up and whispered, "It's perfect. Let's get some rest."
A few minutes later, Harry and Taylor were warmly wrapped in each other's arms in Harry's bed, and he still felt too dazed by the past hour's events to let himself fall asleep – regardless of how heavy his eyes were.
Taylor had her eyes closed and had looked peaceful and warm in his sweatshirt for a few minutes, but he hoped she wasn't asleep yet because he wanted to make sure she heard him say his next words.
"Taylor?"
"Hmm?" she hummed softly, not opening her eyes.
"I'm so happy I met you. And I've never been happier with my life than I am right now. Thank you."
He saw Taylor smile, her eyes still closed, and give one of the hands on her flat belly a squeeze. They both settled into a comfy sleeping position, and she surprised him by speaking into the quiet of the early morning.
"Just so I know, how many times a day are you gonna be checking up on me?"
Harry's eyes opened and he gazed lovingly at his girlfriend across from him. "How many would be acceptable?"
"Hmm," Taylor's eyes fluttered open, and she adjusted her pillow so that they were even closer than before. "Twice a day. No more."
"Six times."
"Harry. You cannot ask me how I am six times a day," she chuckled tiredly. "Three times."
"Three for each you and the baby," Harry pulled her closer and finally closed his eyes, "That's six in total. Seems fair to me."