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My body flips over lethargically on the mattress to Harry, and with my eyelids heavy, I outstretch my left hand to feel him, though it falls to the empty sheets instead.
"Harry?" I open my eyes, confounded at the sight of his absence, the room freezing without his warmth.
The time on his nightstand reads half past eleven, and a folded piece of paper sits on the edge of the low wooden surface waiting for me. I stretch over and snatch it, retracting back to my position and opening it to see Harry's written it for me, not the good morning I expected after my first night here.
Caroline,
Good morning, love. I hope you slept better after you woke up last night. I thought I heard you get sick early in the morning, I heard you in the bathroom and felt you come back, though I didn't want to keep you up to discuss it. I hope it wasn't my fault. The fish was cooked right, it had to be. I was fine after eating it, but I'm so sorry if it was my fault that you were sick. I hope you're well, my love.
I had a work emergency I was called for this morning and didn't want to wake you. I might be gone most of the day, but you charmed Anne better than I ever could so I'm sure you'll know how to handle her. You're good with people, I don't know how you do it. Please don't say anything about what really happened in Pebblebrook or that I'm a fugitive. I may not have seen her for years, but if she knew what I was capable of, it would tear her apart.
Good luck with her today. I love you so much and already miss you terribly. I'm excited to finally come home from work to you waiting for me and kiss you. H
Feeling somewhat lonely, I make myself slide out of bed to find Anne, strapping on my robe, carefully going downstairs as not to slip. Last night, as Harry apparently heard, I woke up to puke, the salmon having its way with me, and the lack of anything in my system compels me to stumble around.
With every step down I inhale the comforting scent of brewing coffee that unfortunately, I shouldn't drink for the baby's sake.
The house feels empty when I descend, and I discover Anne dressed and ready in the kitchen, the showy pearls around her neck catching my scanning eyes.
"Good morning, Caroline. Sleep well?"
I drag my feet into the kitchen and plop myself on the nearest barstool.
"I slept pretty good for my first night here... you?" I fib.
"Just fine, thank you. This house feels rather homey, it reminds me of the one from Pebblebrook, and well, I was rather exhausted when I headed to bed so I passed out right when I hit the mattress!"
It hits me that Harry's old house in Pebblebrook was originally his parents, a detail I suppose slipped my mind, so of course she'd be able to see the resemblance like I did.
"Do you know why Harry had to go to work all of a sudden?"
Anne takes the coffee from the pot and serves herself a cup, informing, "Harry was phoned early that they were having a health inspector come in some time today, and so he had to rush work. I assume he wanted to check things were in order. He didn't want to wake you and I was already awake."
"Oh..." I nod, a little down that he got his day off taken away from him without warning.
But now that I'm left alone to bond with his mother, maybe she'll tell me what got between them.
"Would you care for a cup of coffee?"
"I really shouldn't..." I kindly reject, grunting when I try and get off the stool, "It's better that I drink tea or something—"
"Let me, love," Anne insists, already preparing it before I set my feet on the floor.
I thank her, and she begins to spark up another conversation. "No alcohol, no caffeine, I don't know how you do it! Are you doing like some cleanse or something?"
"Something like that. It's taking a lot of my patience," I laugh it off.
"I bet it is, but lucky for you I make a mean cup of tea," she pops off to grab a tea bag and some honey as the water boils.
"Well, I might not get to say my peace with Harry today, but I'm very excited to spend time with you. Is there anything you'd like to do?" She turns around, catching me impolitely resting my head over my arms, absolutely knackered.
Today I can tell is one of those days where the pregnancy calls the shots.
"I see it's taking a lot of patience," she sympathetically smiles at me, crossing her arms.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to look bored, I just feel a bit drained and uneasy," I admit just as the tea kettle goes off.
"You look like you could use a day to be pampered. How about I treat you today? You need it, having to deal with my son on a daily," Anne offers, hastily getting me the tea cup.
I tentatively sip on the hot tea and it alleviates my shakiness. I sigh a little, smiling up at her, "I'll take you up on that, I'll just have to go and get ready."
"You need to eat something first. Does toast upset your stomach?"
"N—" the entire question processes in my mind and I pause, peering into her eyes to find an something else behind that expectant expression.
"No, I like toast," I reply, dumbfounded a little at how she worded that.
"Toast and jam coming right up!"
She fixes me up a nice hearty plate of toast and jam, and as I eat it, she checks on her phone where around here we can treat ourselves.
"So there's a nail salon not too far, and we can have a late lunch afterward?" my boyfriend's mother, after a while of searching, peeks up from her phone and over her reading glasses to me.
"That sounds like fun," I agree to her plans, replying honestly, "I can't remember the last time I did something like this for myself."
"Really?" The wealthy woman gapes, even more enthusiastic than before to treat me.
"I should start getting ready then so we can head out not too late," I fork in the last bite, sliding from the high barstool down to the hardwood floor.
"If you need help with anything or getting up there let me know. I'll clean up down here," she, like a true mother, bids me as I start to walk away.
Again, I ponder over her words as I reach the landing of the stairs, standing still. I turn my head and look back at her clearing my dishes to wash up.
I think she just offered to help me up the stairs.
Either she's the most generous woman I've ever met, or she's onto me.
The familiar ringtone on my phone goes off, the sound of it echoing down the stairs and bringing me to continue what I set out for, answering Ryan's call in the nick of time.
"Hey, lover boy," I giggle into the speaker, starting to take out my outfit for today from the luggage I still haven't unpacked, deciding on sweats from how ill I'm feeling.
"Hey Mrs. Forbes-Styles," he snorts right back.
"We moved in together, we didn't get married. Now come on! Tell. Me. Everything," I demand, trying to keep my voice down. "I want every Caleb detail you can spare."
"Okay, I've been holding this in for so long I'm ready to pop, but I don't have a lot of time. So right after you two left, the interruption of you caused me to get cold feet. Let's be real, I haven't gotten the goods in so long I was worried because who knows if the kids changed how to do it these days."
"Ryan..." I scold, knowing he's exaggerating. "So nothing happened?"
"Let me finish!" He laughs into the phone at my desperation. "I had to pull a Caroline and push him off of me because he wanted to 'experiment more', and he was being so forward and hot. Like I literally had to kick him in the nuts to calm him down."
"Hey, you might've pulled a Caroline, but for the record, I never kicked Harry anywhere."
"You're too nice and too hormonal these days to. Anyway, I told him we needed to talk this through because this is a big deal on his end. Like, I'm fully gay, but he... I mean, he's always been man-whore, it's instinctual," he bluntly states.
"You're not wrong..."
"But dude, you won't believe what happened after that."
"What?"
"He had a serious conversation with me and admitted everything. Like he came up to me on the couch and was right in front of my face, looking at me with those goddamn gorgeous, translucent green eyes. He told me that girl Riley from dinner was just supposed to distract him. He was frustrated over me."
"But it doesn't explain why he was so rude to you," I lean back on the wall, pressing the phone to my other ear.
"See, I said the same thing. I told him I never did shit and if he had a problem he should have civilly mentioned it. Caleb admitted that he found himself so attracted to me, and even though he's naturally a dick, he confessed he was only more of one to me because I made him doubt his entire life choices."
"What?!"
That sounds nothing like him.
"I fucking know!" He slams his hands on some nearby surface. "Honestly, for his sake, I was not going to let anything further happen between us because I didn't know if he was going to snap out of it or sober up. But Lord, the man tested me so badly, he was climbing all over me and I tried to resist him. I tried, like you know I'm telling the truth, but man..."
"Ryan!" I squeal.
"He's so tough and aggressive in person but I have never seen a guy so vulnerable and needy. He was so gentle but intense when he kissed me. Like he was pushing me to just let us try it and he tempted me with little kisses all over..."
"Are you sure you're talking about Caleb?" It's too good to be true.
Scratch that, it's just like Harry: hardcore and vindictive exterior, sweet and loving interior.
"You heard me. Boy's got lips like a fucking rainbow feather."
I knew Caleb and Harry were similar.
"And so...?"
"And so," he huffs cockily, and I can just picture his flustered face, messy blonde curls and smirk, "I'm just laying here waiting for him as he's freshening up to be ready for a round three this morning. It's a learning process for him after all. Professor Baker isn't finished with his lesson."
"You're an animal, oh my god," I find myself blushing, throwing my head back in laughter. I can't wait to gossip to Harry about all this.
I couldn't be happier for Ryan; he's waited so long to meet someone who wanted him just as bad.
"When you're finally given food, you don't simply give up eating again," he reasons, though I hear the vigor in his voice refresh and he ventures, "And you? How's it going over there? Please tell me the man knows he's a father."
"He doesn't know he's a father yet because I now know he has a mother."
"Whoa! What?" He gasps, "But isn't she dead?"
"Long story short: his mother isn't dead, she arrived at the house yesterday. Apparently she was dead to him; they were on bad terms, but Harry wanted to repair things and she's here until tomorrow. I don't know the full backstory of what happened in the first place. She's downstairs right now and she and I are going out bonding today even though I don't feel good."
"Oh shit! I'm gone for five seconds and you're already meeting his mother! How is she? I imagine a prissy woman using hundred dollar bills to fan herself but..."
"So did I, but we're so wrong. She's genuinely the nicest person you'd ever meet. She's treating me like I'm her daughter or something, and I've known her not even a day! I just want to make a good impression now that we're one-on-one since I'm dating her son and technically having her grandchild. I'm nervous."
"Hey. Don't be. You're a joy to be around and it seems like she's fond of you already. Maybe she'll like you so much that you'll find out about what happened between the two," my best friend reads my mind.
"That's what I'm hoping..." I let out a heavy sigh, rubbing at my forehead.
Ry is quiet over the line for a moment before he treads lightly, "You don't sound okay and something tells me I've not heard the whole story."
"I just— Ryan, nothing is happening the way I pictured. Harry wants to run away with me and become nomadic. He says he wants to show me what the world has to offer and that we have no responsibilities to hold us back; it's just him and me."
"But, it's not just the two of you. It's the three of you. And I'm guessing his mother's arrival just postponed you telling him there's a baby on the way last night after he told you that," he puts two and two together, his tone now matching my restless one.
"Maybe this is a good thing," I attempt at being optimistic, which sounds foreign coming from me. "Maybe this extra time of me having to wait to tell him will let me plan a cuter way to surprise him with it and get the reaction I'm hoping for. Like I could do it with food or something—"
His over-exaggerated gasp on the line has me remove the phone from my ear and he blurts, "Let me fucking help! Oh my god please! We know I'm gonna be the godfather, and I'm the uncle, so it's only right."
"Okay!" A laugh escapes my lips involuntarily as I try and shush him, knowing Anne could walk by at any moment. "I'll let you know when I'm ready to tell him and we can do it together."
"Thank you— oh, I gotta go. Duty calls. Good luck with his mom and let me know how it goes!"
- ♕ -
"Two manicures and pedicures, please," Anne tells the petite woman at the front desk, and we're led through the place to the plush seats to soak our feet in, the salon barely busy at two in the afternoon.
This salon is rather quaint, not some fancy place I pictured when coming along here with someone as wealthy as Anne. The chemical stench of the polish is concentrated in the entire area, though it's luckily not horrible to anger my sense of smell. The bleak blackness of the leather pedicure seats contrast from the white of the plastered walls, almost making the chilled air from outside feel as if it's followed us in.
That is until I lift up the sweatpants I'm wearing to soak my feet.
"This is exactly what I needed. Thank you, Anne," I find myself groaning in ecstasy, the heated, bubbling water drowning my calves. My body sinks into the cloud-like cushion behind me and I already want to sleep.
"It's no trouble, darling," she waves it off, just as two women come over to do our pedicures. "What do you do that makes a young woman like you so sore?"
I suddenly find myself on the spot, at odds whether I should lie or not.
Through everything Harry and I have endured, it feels like we haven't stopped lying. I was brought up in a different way, trained in my job to hate liars and do whatever it takes for the truth, and I'm to the point where I'm sick of it.
"I... I'm an FBI agent. Have been for around four years now." Though currently I'm rejecting that position, now a full time pregnant woman in love with your son, the former serial killer.
Her expression changes, eyes widening and her jaw slacking, "Wait, an agent? Agent Caroline Forbes... You must be constantly on your feet. I didn't know Pebblebrook was big enough to have FBI related issues."
"My family is good friends with the sheriff and I came to the rescue when he needed a favor," I tweak the story slightly, still trying my best not to lie.
Anne nods her hand in understanding, though I sense the questions aren't over from the way she hesitantly opens her mouth, finally inquiring, "What is your family like? Do they live in Chicago as well?"
"Yes. My mom and dad are pretty average. They are extremely loving and kind, though not very keen on my career choice since they were just being overprotective and didn't want me to get myself into combat."
I avoid telling her I was shot and what happened to me almost a year ago, seeing that it's not really the type of topic for a nail salon. I can still be sort of honest and just decide where and where not to take this conversation.
However, Anne yanks at another sob story when she wonders, "Do you have any siblings?"
My eyelids flutter as I take a deep and stare straight ahead, fighting off the tears of the thoughts provoked by Abigail, even those relating to Harry.
"I had a younger sister. Abigail," I murmur, glancing at her for a moment, unable to handle her regret-filled eyes once it clicks.
"Oh, darling I didn't mean to upset you. I'm so sorry."
"It's fine, you didn't know," I convince her with a fragile grin. "No harm done."
For a moment she sits back from facing me, and I curse to myself at how I might've just screwed things up if I made her feel guilty. I didn't mean to make her feel bad. Abigail is just a topic I can't lie about; she's the one thing that my emotions would give me away for if I didn't tell the truth.
"Caroline?" After a moment of silence, Anne's voice comes out light, and I finding her smiling tenderly.
"Let me change the topic. I really, really want to know how you met Harry," she probes me into telling the tale, adding as a joke, "I didn't think he hung around the sheriff's office in his spare time."
I laugh through the irony of how much time he spent there since we met, scratching at my head, cringing in deciding which shovel to use for the lie I'm digging into for this answer, one that I'll have to pull out of my ass.
For a moment I flicker my hazy gaze up to Anne, taking a minute to just admire how thrilled, compassionate, and lighthearted she is, all of those qualities going along with the oblivious mind she carries over everything her son did the last few years. I don't even know if she knows he has a mental illness in the first place, but despite that, she seems to care wholeheartedly.
These lies are keeping her so chipper, and I won't spoil that for her no matter how tired of them I am.
"Well, um," I stammer, a nervous chuckle escaping my lips. "I was at a bar, and I had a really rough day with the case I was working on for the sheriff and a lot of other stuff was bothering me. This was before I stopped drinking of course."
His mom adorably leans in as closely as possible, her hand resting on her chin and a smile pasted on her face as she studies me.
"He... somehow he spilled his drink on me from behind, and I got really ticked off at him because I was soaked in whatever he was drinking and it just wasn't my day. Then he caught me off guard... when he asked me to throw my drink at him to make it even."
"Did he? Cheeky lad my boy always was," Anne cups her own cheeks in adornment.
"I thought the same thing! He was really smooth about it and took a mojito to the face like a man."
"And then what?"
I'm glad to see she's falling for it easily.
Scrambling for more, I ramble on, "Then uh... He and I started drinking together and chatting, wearing each other's first drink and buying each other's second. He really made my night. We sang karaoke like a couple of idiots, and even though we were strangers, we felt like old friends. He ended up walking me to the hotel I was staying at, though we took the long way because I didn't want to leave his side, and he didn't want to leave me either."
"We held hands," I feel my lips twitching up in a smile at this ideal night I've created, and I mindlessly stare down at the navy shade of polish soon to be applied to my toes and continue. "We looked at the stars and talked, and I recall him kissing me when he chivalrously walked me to the room."
"And you two kept running into each other after that, right?"
I look over to see her pinching at her pink lips, Harry the spitting image of her, and I giggle, "I like to think he stalked me a bit, the little creep he is. I ended up living with him instead of in that hotel room awhile later since he offered the spare room. That's how it all started."
Anne so much as wipes her eyes, and I'm unsure if it's from the endearing made-up story, or if she can really believe the Harry she knows would do such a thing.
"So, after all, do you know why he moved here?"
"I think he just sought out a change from Pebblebrook." And an escape from the cops.
"But you haven't for sure made the decision to join him in Hampstead?"
I can't help but relate this to Harry's travel-the-world plans, my decision being the only thing Harry is waiting on to pack our things and leave on the first flight out of here.
"I have a lot to think about, like not seeing my family much anymore. There's pros and cons."
If I went away with him, I could never go back to the United States. When the word would get out, I'd be on the run just as much as he is.
"Oh! Speaking of, how did your parents react when they met him? Were they gushing as much as I am?"
My mouth opens to reply, only nothing comes out.
Neither one of my parents know I'm in a relationship with Harry, let alone that I'm pregnant, because they've seen the news. They know who he is and how I was already associated with him, so I can't exactly say I fell in love with the guy.
"They liked him very much. He's charming when he wants to be, that's for sure. You and your husband raised such a great son."
My last sentence triggers her, and she removes her eyes away from me, a glint of distress visible in her features. "I wish it felt that way, but thank you."
I decide against asking her about the past now and waiting until we're home, changing the subject to bring her happiness back.
Anne and I have a pretty relaxing time after that, discussing her life while our nails take a couple of hours to complete, and I find myself getting hungrier and weary as the minutes pass. She defies every preconceived idea I had of an affluent woman like her with all of her stories of her simple life of getting involved in town organizations up north where she lives, her cat she loves, and how she's the one taking care of the house all day.
Yet, Anne never mentions her husband, but wears a beautiful wedding ring.
Once we're through, I thank Anne and she again tells me it was no problem, both if us approaching the register to pay, mindful of our freshly painted nails when grabbing our things.
"Mother and daughter day?" We're questioned by the friendly cashier.
"More like mother and hopefully daughter-in-law day," my boyfriend's mother replies for me, and I straighten up a little in awe.
"Y-You think so?"
"Don't worry about trying to impress me, Caroline. You've succeeded just by being you and making my son happier than I've seen him."
"Aww," the woman chuckles, accepting her payment.
We both end up having a conversation with the really social woman checking us out, Anne doing most of the talking, overly excited to brag to the stranger about Harry and I. After what she said about me being already like a daughter-in-law, it's flattering that she wants to gloat about us so much, something I'll never experience with my own parents about my relationship with Harry.
I'm also relieved she's retelling the story I came up with of how he and I met, because I would've forgotten the false details.
We head off to find lunch, my yawning and languid movements selling me out and she promises that we'll make it home soon. Harry's mom and I stop inside a pizza place to grab each of us our own pizza and one healthy one for Harry so he can eat when he comes home.
I'm so sluggish by the time we receive the food, lightheaded even, that Anne hails us a taxi and caresses my arm during the drive. The entire time I just wish we were in private and that I could've made the walk home so I could ask Anne everything I've been wondering about the past and about her estranged husband that seems to have no effect on her now.
We arrive to the safe haven that is this apartment and as I hold the door open for Anne, my phone vibrates in my pocket with a text that I peek at when shutting the front door behind us.
Harry:
I should be home in an hour, I got
caught up in working. I hope you
have had a good day and that Anne
hasn't frightened you with anything
or told you anything bad about me.
Fuck I miss you. I've had such a long day.
"Anne!" I call out for her, and she hurries back.
"Something the matter? Are you okay?"
"Yes," I strip away her sudden worry as she gives me a frightened once over, "I'm fine. I just heard from Harry, and he'll be home in an hour.
"Oh," she puffs out gladly with a hand over her heart. "Well, I can hold off on eating now so we can have dinner together. I think I might go and shower then, is that alright with you?"
"Of course, I can keep myself busy," I assure her, knowing full well I have a luggage up there just dying to be unpacked.
"Don't overwork yourself, and let me know if you need something, yeah?"
I go ahead and nod, following her upstairs with my pizza in tow to snack on.
I'm rather suspicious in how she's babying me, though it seems like her character, but I just let it slide and plop myself on the rug in front of Harry's bed and undo my suitcase, my compulsivity deflating now that I get to organize the mess Harry had promised he'd help with.
After unpacking several things while munching on half my personal pizza, leaving the clothes in folded piles around me according to what they are, it occurs to me that since I'm alone now, I have the time to check up and see where Harry's laptop is.
I got this idea last night after I crawled back to bed from letting my stomach go in the toilet. I need to research doctors around here for my second trimester check-up. Whether or not Harry knows, I need to make an appointment, and I'll have to fill out an application online.
I bring myself to get off the floor and scour downstairs for a computer, discovering one finally on top of the coffee table of his living room. Hoping it's not Caleb's and that I don't open it up to some porn or worse, I'm relieved to open it and discover its Harry's, finding myself as the background. It's a picture of me laughing I don't recall him taking; the blurry quality adds to the spontaneity of it, and I sort of smile.
My fingers type away, looking up obstetricians in the area and as the time passes, I become overwhelmed in trying to find the best one, many different names and offices at different distances eating away at my mind.
"Caroline?" A voice snakes my attention away and I flinch on the couch, snapping my neck to see Anne wearing a robe over pajamas, a captivating smile gracing her lips.
"Sorry, I didn't hear you come down," I get out of the page I was looking at, erase his history in seconds, and shut the laptop as she sits down next to me on the leather sofa.
"That's alright. What were you looking so intensely for?"
"Nothing," I brush off the inquiry, but something inside me thinks that I should just ask her, that I can trust her.
"Actually," I begin, seeing in her expression that she knew there was more to it than nothing. "Do you know any good doctors?"
Her smile diminishes slightly and she rubs at my arm, "Are you ill? I know you've seemed a bit weak, but I didn't think it was serious."
Who am I kidding, once I tell her what type of doctor, the secret is out.
I lend her a small smile, shaking my head, "Just forget about it, it's nothing... Oh, what do you have there?"
Some small pieces of paper in her hands attract my eyes, which I use to change the subject and lift the attention from me.
"These are some pictures of Harry as a boy," Anne informs me, spreading them across the table for me to see, and my lips part in a gasp.
"I brought them to show him, but I figured you would have an interest in them too."
"Oh my god, his little baby face," I whine, picking up a photo where his straight hair falls over his face, the innocence he lost still there, found in his eyes and dimpled smile that blessed the camera that took it.
"Even though I was a busy mum, I loved him from the moment I first saw him. It all just changed so quickly."
The shift in her tone has me look at her, her eyes defeatedly staring at the photos, solemn memories setting her in a daze.
"What happened between you guys?" I ask the million-dollar question.
She lets out a tense breath she seems to have been holding, and I can see she's been wanting to tell me this all day. "You know about his mental state, right?"
"I know he has bipolar schizophrenia, but I've never personally seen him, um, act on it."
I was only there for the bloody aftermath.
"Harry started coming down with it when he was around seventeen," she discloses, her voice low and somber. "He was very moody with us, and either really outspoken or scary quiet. He was snappy and angry most of the time, and said horrible things to us to make us as parents feel guilty. Since he was always homeschooled, it was easy for us to know that this was much more than just him growing up. When we tried to get him help and medication as it worsened, he pushed us away entirely. He was in denial about what this was and wouldn't accept help."
"It was a mess, and Harry's father didn't have enough patience for it. I was against this decision, but Harry was given his inheritance young, at eighteen, and his father forced he and I to move on so Harry could have what he fought us for: his freedom."
I never knew it started so early in his life that he lost the end of his youthful years to it. He dealt with it for longer than three years, and barred himself from abiding by it for so long until it was triggered with Abigail.
Kicking out his parents from his life, that has to be something he regrets.
"He blames us for leaving him, and maybe he's right. We shouldn't have left him no matter how mad he was at us."
"His mind changes the story for him," I bring up what I learned back when he confessed it all to me ages ago. "Harry knows deep down that he did that to himself and made you guys leave, but the schizophrenia makes him think it was your fault. Granted, neither side knew how to handle the situation."
"A mother shouldn't abandon her son, period," Anne states firmly. "I take the blame in listening to my irrational husband for that. Did Harry ever mention us to you? I wouldn't blame him for saying he didn't even have parents."
"He told me you guys weren't around... but that was before the schizophrenic symptoms completely stopped and he became himself. The Harry you met yesterday, the one he's been since I first loved him, that's your son. He told me that he wanted to try and rebuild your relationship," I try and comfort her.
"I'm really thankful about that, I can't describe to you how good it felt to see him smiling. It's something I haven't seen in years. And you, I know you're to thank for that too."
She envelopes me in her arms, hugging me just as tight as he does. I couldn't be happier that Anne is here all thanks to Harry's promise to be a better man and repent for his mistakes.
"Anne," I pull away, "I was wondering what happened to your husband. You just don't speak about him, and I would've figured that Harry would invite you both if he's still in the picture."
Her eyes scan over the pictures in front of us on the table, one of them closer to the middle having a man in the background that I assume is her husband, another melancholic wave overtaking her before she gathers courage to meet my eyes.
"Did Harry ever tell you why we were in Pebblebrook?"
"He mentioned something once that your husband built up the town with his business, and he's done that to other towns and cities around the world."
"Well, the company was ours. After we left Harry, I stepped away from the business because I didn't want anything to do with it and I was not on good terms with him. We wouldn't be good business partners if we didn't get along. A couple of years ago, we sort of separated, not officially. It had a lot to do with how I never saw him since he worked, but mostly, it was because we disagreed on many things, including things that dealt with Harry. Even though it was six years ago, I clearly can't let it go what we did to him— what he made me do to Harry."
The image of Harry's father in my mind grows worse and worse the more I hear about him, and I can't possibly see how someone like Anne ended up with him. How could a father just want to up and leave their kid when they run out of patience for something he didn't know how to control?
"Were they never close?"
"The two never saw eye to eye for many reasons. Harry didn't want to be an entrepreneur and take over, which I'm glad he didn't, he's an excellent chef. His father was always harsh on him. In the end, when Harry got ill, the idea of a mental illness didn't click in such a workaholic's mind that he just had enough of Harry's 'antics'. I hope Harry didn't inherit any of his father's attitude, for your sake. I feel like I don't really know what kind of a man he is now."
"Harry is the love of my life," I admit, a weak smile on my face as I start to shed tears. "He's trying in his own way. He wants to get better, trust me."
"Oh don't cry on me, love," Anne combs a chunk of hair behind my ear, both of us giggling as she reaches over the pictures for a tissue.
"Thank you," I take it from her, dabbing at my eyes and looking down, folding the damp cloth, "I've been too emotional lately, guess this was enough to set me off."
"Aw, darling," she maternally rubs at my back to hush my sniffling. "I remember being the same way when I was pregnant with Harry."
The little hairs on my body stand up when the chills race down my spine and I freeze, crumbling the tissue in my fist when I look over at her and she grins cunningly.
She knows.
"Anne, I—"
"Honey, I'm home!" Harry's teasing cheer echoes through the hall, and he appears behind us looking very pleased to see me, though very spent.
"H-Hey!" I hesitantly turn my body around on the couch and hold my arms out, the man strolling over and taking my face in his hands to plant a longing kiss to my lips.
"It felt good to do that," he breathes out, cupping my cheeks with the warmest smile on his face.
He lets me go to say hello to his mother with a kiss to the cheek, the kind gesture poking at my emotions which are scattered all over the place now that Harry's mother literally just implied she knows I'm pregnant.
"How did you both handle without me today?" Harry asks, lounging down on the couch next to me, his attention fully busy with holding my body to his and giving me affection comfortably in front of his mom who is smiling brighter than the setting sun.
"Really well. I treated Caroline to a lovely mani-pedi and just showed her—"
"What the hell are these?" My boyfriend leans up and picks up the closest picture he can reach, one of him posing adorably on a seat with his cute little butt in the air.
"Your mom showed me these just now. You were a cute baby," I nuzzle my face to his chest as he intently focuses on the picture and starts to smile.
I can't help but hope our baby gets that same genuine smile of his.
"This feels like forever ago..."
I sense that it's the perfect opportunity for them to have their own little talk, and so I scoot away from Harry and rise off the couch.
"I think I'm going to draw myself a bath. You both can eat your pizza without me, I'll come down after and have more of mine."
"Alright darling," Anne gives me that smile again, and I find myself struggling to make eye contact with her now that Harry's here.
I slip out of the room to avoid it, hearing Harry follow me out into the hallway where the stairs are.
"Hey, wait! How are you feeling?" He stops me for a moment, wrapping his arms around me when I turn around. "The lazy joggers you're sporting tells me it's not very well."
"I'm just tired. I wore these all day, but I don't feel sick anymore," I reach up and run my hands through his messy curls, his eyes immediately going glossy and he moans that it feels good.
His voice drops down to a whisper when he interrogates, "Did she say anything bad to you about me? About anything?"
I shake my head, "She said nothing bad, I promise. I'm just glad to be here with you, that you're okay now, and I love you."
He's thankful, his demeanor easing up before me, and his dimples appear. "Well, don't go and leave me then if you're 'so glad to be here'."
"But I want to take a bath."
"I'll come and join you. I need one just as much after today. I could use some sweet relief with you, undressed, in the tub," he dips his head down and leans his forehead to mine.
"First, you need to spend some time with your mom," I poke playfully at his chest. "Then you can gripe about your day to me in bed."
Like a child, he rolls his eyes, though understandably kisses my nose and listens, returning to the living room to his mother so they can finally have a moment that they have needed for years.
I make my way to my bath, now obsessing over how Anne figured it out so quickly.
🔪
"Is it alright if we grab some pizza first before we talk? I haven't eaten all day," I scratch the back of my neck, Anne agreeing instantly and following me into the kitchen.
She points out which is mine, and when I open it, I can't help but smirk when I see how healthy Caroline made it for me. I take a few slices and stick them in the microwave to Anne's dismay.
"You used to do that all the time, I thought it was disgusting," she laughs, turning on my oven.
"I don't endorse microwaving food as a chef, but when you're starving, I don't care," I stand in front of the appliance, waiting desperately for my dinner.
"You're much more laid back and happy now, Harry. You've grown up to be a fine young man," she declares, and I can feel her eyes digging into me from behind.
The one emotion I used to never be able to feel, now the one that hurts the most, taunts me.
Guilt.
"I'm definitely not perfect now," I turn to her, folding my arms and leaning back to the counter. "I've fucked up a lot more since I made you leave me. I am not a good person, I'm trying to be. Caroline is just very patient to look past those mistakes and see the better man in me."
"I want you to know, I'm looking past that too and hoping we can have a future, Harry. I want to be your mum again," she takes a few steps toward me. "I wish you could look past our mistake in leaving you. We were the adults, we should've stayed."
"Father won't be asking the same I assume?" I retort, raising a scrutinizing brow. "Wow... The prick doesn't even care to be a father figure and see that I'm alright, even after six years."
Disappointment in the dickhead I had for a father isn't something she can mask, and she stares down at the wedding ring on her finger I used to admire on her as a child— a ring I used to ask for to use for my future wife. When she takes it off, she slowly breaks a smile and holds it between us, surprising me.
"If he can't be a better father to our son, then I have nothing to do with him anymore. Therefore, this ring needs to go to better use. I see that Caroline has had an effect on you, and I see that you're trying to get better, especially for her. No matter what happened, I've always wanted this happiness for you, love. I hope that one day you'll be able to forgive me—"
I interrupt her words and pull her into my embrace, holding her just as tight as she does to me, the woman rubbing at my broad back the way she did when I was younger. Suddenly I feel just like a boy again, cuddling in the arms that always made the monsters go away.
"I love you, mum. I forgive you, if you can forgive me for making the mistake in shutting you out."
"Of course! I love you too. No matter what happens, you'll always be my baby," she says into my neck.
The timer on the microwave pulls me away, though my mum gives me her wedding right and winks when I shove it in my pocket.
I take out my pizza and practically inhale the first piece as she places hers in the oven. She turns around as I eat and leans back on the counter diagonally across from where I'm leaning, smiling up and down at me, something clearly on her mind.
"What?" I ask after a while with my mouth full, holding my plate under me, nearly finished with my second slice.
She looks as if she can't hold it in any longer and finally pops, "I just wanted to say congratulations on everything, especially with the baby."
Mid-chew, I nearly loose the cheese stretching from my mouth to the slice at her words, swallowing instantly.
"Excuse me?"
"With the baby," she gestures upstairs to where Caroline is.
I set my plate down with a deranged glare appearing on my flustered face, the blood draining from my cheeks.
"Caroline's not pregnant."
"She's pregnant, darling. Believe me, I'd know it in a heartbeat. Hiding your relationship from me is one thing, but a baby..." her words drift off into the realization that I'm not playing dumb.
"Harry, wait!" Anne shouts after me as I sprint upstairs in a panic, bolting into our room to see if she's not gone into her bath yet, but I find it empty with her packed clothes folded neatly all over the floor and hear a noise in the next room, the bathroom.
About to leave and grill Caroline for the truth, her phone on the mattress lights up with a message, and I snoop without giving a fuck about her privacy with shivering hands, reading the message from Ryan.
Ryan:
Hey, I realized I didn't tell you about
where I packed your prenatal vitamins!
I hid the bottles in your shoes so they
weren't so easy to be found. Text later?
Sure enough, after digging through each bag of shoes like a fucking madman hoping this isn't true, I find a bottle of prenatal vitamins stuffed in the soles of her tennis shoes.
There's no fucking way. It's impossible.
Faintly, I hear them, whispering in my ear, after months of quietude up there, the voices taking pleasure in catching me when I'm down to all sinisterly repeat the same thing.
She must have cheated on you.
I'm overcome by an epiphany, my life seemingly falling apart just as quickly as it mended. It all makes sense. She didn't let me touch her, she wouldn't drink, she wouldn't let me sleep with her because her guilt hung onto her for dear life, and that's something she fucking deserves to have, not me.
How the fuck she could kiss me though like nothing happened, I have no idea.
Disgusted, I hurl the bottle of vitamins straight ahead and growl, kicking around her organized unpacking, boiling with anger so much that I could strangle someone, feeling the psychotic, malevolent bits of me clawing their way out as my chest heaves with every breath.
Seeing a blazing red, enraged, I find myself charging downstairs, my mother frightened in the kitchen.
"Harry, where are you going?"
"Out. Don't you fucking come after me," I grit my teeth at her and throw back the ring she gave me, the slamming of the front door behind me blocking out her plea for me to stay.
a/n: ...thoughts?
cheers to the longest chapter i've ever written! hope it was worth it!
announcement: i have made an instagram to do livestreams (which i'll be doing Saturday & we can talk about the chapter and more), post polls, and post edits on! it's @/the1dfanfics !