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H.
Since I've been in Faycoast, Jack's coffee shop is practically my second home. At first it was the only thing here that made me feel good – a nice cup of coffee to warm up my insides despite it being sweltering outside.
There are a few good things about this town.
I like how cozy it is. However, I'm necessarily sure if I like the idea of everyone knowing each other. In the city there's a sense of anonymity even though there are millions of people. You can walk past people on the sidewalk and not know them. Here, it's the opposite. But when I got here I knew no one. Liam had only invited me to stay because he knew I needed time away after graduation. I needed time away to think about my future.
But being here has thrown everything into a tailspin.
My best friends are settling down, happy with their lives, while I'm entirely lost. Then I found Diana and without a doubt she is a light. Just thinking about her makes my stomach flip. It's been a while since I thought of someone this much, and she exceeds that. She's flawless – soft skin, perfect smile, and a silky voice.
I just never expected her to have a daughter.
And that's where my anxiety peaks.
"Harold."
The familiar voice makes my insides crumble. I don't stand, letting my dad sit down across from me. He wears his usual black suit and white button up–minus the tie. He accepts the coffee I bought him minutes ago, taking a sip and sighing with relieve. It's been a while since I've seen him, or so it feels.
"How are you?" he asked.
"Fine," I shrugged.
Two months ago if we were having this conversation it'd be entirely different. Two months ago we did this a conversation – and I was serious about it all. Then graduation came and my mum told me she wanted me to take time off and figure out what I really want because to her I wasn't the boy she raised.
"How are you?" I questioned.
"Fine," he chuckled. "Figured you made up your mind when you called me and asked to meet but I see that's not the case. You'd have your bags with you." He's snide; knowing very well how to hit me where it he knows I'm weak.
"I didn't call you to come here," I mentioned causally, hoping not to break a sweat. "I called you because I was to renegotiate–"
"Harry," he shook his head, cutting me off, "I cut you a lot of slack. All I do for you. . . You're entirely ungrateful. Some guys would be at my feet begging for this job."
"I'm not all guys, I'm your son."
And that's when he freezes. I think he forgets that we're related and not business pals. All my life he's pushed me to exceed normal standards and be the top of my class. Here I am, having achieved virtually everything except accepting the job offer with his company. Sure, it could lead to millions. . . but do I need that?
Is money really what I'm missing? Months ago I'd say yes. Now I'm turning the tables. Money is exactly what made my father the man he is. And I want to be better than him.
I rolled my eyes and sighed, sitting back in the chair. My eyes skim across the room, mostly to avoid my father's glare and I meet Peter's eyes instead. He furrows his brows, looking slightly confused. I don't possibly know why. Maybe he found out that I'm sleeping with his best friend.
At first, I swore I thought he loved her. Then I realized that their relationship doesn't exceed that level of intimacy. It's strictly sibling-like. Peter looks away, tending to a customer.
"Why are you here, Harry?"
I look back at my dad, knowing very well he doesn't give a damn why I'm here.
"Honestly? To get away from you."
"The job is still open, Harry." Dad rose from his seat, grabbing his coffee cup and bag. "And I except an answer by the end of the month. So, you have three weeks."
I nodded, avoiding his eyes once again and instead focusing on the rim of my coffee cup. I exhale as he disappears, leaving the shop. That went far better than I expected, but the tension between us could've popped at any second.
Now I have three weeks to decide what I want to do. Three weeks of what feels like freedom.
* * *
D.
"Twinkle, twinkle little star. . ."
Eliana giggles as I sing to her, rocking her in my arms as we sway through the kitchen. The humidity pours through the open windows, yet another hot and muggy night. Thankfully, rain is in the forecast. It'll be good for the flowers at the shop and for the town too. Whenever it gets to hot, the locals get moody and snippy.
"Mama, moon."
I held Eliana by the window and pointed up at the full moon. It reflected back in her eyes so beautifully, looking like a light at the end of the tunnel. I kissed her forehead and brushed back her tiny curls. "Time for bed, muffin."
"Muffin," Eliana repeated amusingly.
The apartment is too quiet as I get her ready for bed. And I hate it. Part of me wishes that I could just have some soft background music playing all the time. Eliana falls asleep soon enough, laying with Mr. Hippo after insisting on it. In the kitchen, I clean up a bit.
The last three day have been a cycle–sleep, wake up, drop off Eliana at daycare, work, pick up Eliana, eat, play, and then sleep again. It's also been three days since I've seen Harry. Part of me wonders what he's doing. He mentioned something about seeing his dad today, but I haven't heard from his since.
On the counter are a stack of bills that I've been avoiding. Not because I can, but because my brain hurts every time I try to decipher them. I grab one and open it up, checking the amount. Rent, electricity, daycare bill. . . my head wants to explode by the time I'm done adding up the numbers.
I laugh a little, despite there being nothing funny about this. Pushing everything away, I blow out some of my frustration and feel my throats ache with this overwhelming need to cry. Paying my bills this month is impossible.
I anxiously recalculate stuff, figuring that I could pay the minimum for each bill and have some left over for groceries. That'll have to do.
But then I realize I didn't factor in rent.
I've had worse months. We've gone without heat for a month once during the winter. It was the absolute worst, but I managed by keeping the fireplace on. Sometimes, I'd take Eliana to my parents house and spend the night there because we didn't have food or heat.
My failures are locked up tight in my brain. I told myself I could do it, yet I fail over and over again. I'm about to call my mom when there's a knock on the door. I leave my phone on the counter and head to the front door, swinging it open to see Peter standing there with a big smile.
"Hey," he walked past me and into the warm apartment. "The little one's asleep?"
"Put her down an hour ago," I replied, closing the door and following him to the living room. We both slumped down on the couch.
"I saw Harry today," Peter mentioned, not looking at me. "Was with some older guy."
"His dad," I said, "he mentioned they were meeting today. . . did Harry see you?"
"Briefly. Didn't look like a friendly meeting," he revealed, glancing over at me. He straightened out his navy blue t-shirt a bit. "Awkward."
"Harry's told me their relationship is a little rocky," I confessed. "He hasn't spoken to me all day. . . we might get dinner tomorrow."
"So," Peter began slowly, "you're serious about this then? Are you guys. . . doing it?"
"Doing it?" I laughed, rolling my eyes. "Doing it as in having sex? Why does that matter? We're two people who are attracted to each other–"
"Is that all?" His seriousness is putting a real weight on the mood in here. Very rarely do I see this side of Peter. Always so protective.
"I like him, Peter," I stated confidently.
"Does he like you?"
"Yes," I said without missing a beat.
Peter shook his head, resting back into the couch even more. Anger bubbles inside of me and I'm scared I'll say something regret.
"I just want you to be careful. It's not just you that's getting hurt his time," Peter muttered. "You've know him for what, two weeks–not even and you're already having sex?"
"Who I have sex with is none of your business," I hissed. "What the fu–"
He interjected, "it is my business because look what happened. You got knocked up and then he left. You can't be selfish anymore."
"Woah, woah, woah," I stood up and stared down at him. "Selfish?"
My heart ached for a friend I swore would never turn the tables on me. "If wanting affection is selfish then I'm guilty," my voice cracked. "I'm always alone, Peter. I tend to Eliana twenty-four-seven. I need a break here and there. . . Harry gives me that."
He stood up. "I don't trust him, Diana."
My breath hitched in the back of my throat. I'm not entirely sure how I'm supposed to respond to this because it's far off from what I expected.
"Then trust me," I exhaled. "Because I trust Harry and I know he won't hurt me. Peter, you are really all I have. . ." I take his hand and give it a small squeeze of encouragement. His lips tip upwards a bit and he nods.
Peter sighed, "you have me–forever."
* * *
Hello lovelies. Drama is brewing. Now we have some insight on Harry's character, what do you think is going to happen? What do you think of Peter? He's vey protective of Diana and Eliana. I hope you all see the comparisons between Harry and Diana too...Harry has a rich family and Diana is just barley making it on her own. This will come up later, as well.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter–I feel like it was a little boring. But not every chapter can be full of excitement! Prepare for some adorable scenes soon. Can we get this to 2k before the end of December?
Please vote & comment. x