#extrastuff

Harry wasn’t answering his phone. He always answered his phone to me. He always told me he could be held at gunpoint and he’d still answer his phone.

Which was why I was worried. Both for me and for him.

For three days I’d been stuck in bed with a cold. Harry had insisted I got maximum rest no matter how much I protested and he himself had tucked me tight into bed with all my favourite foods and the TV on Netflix before he left for work every morning.

The downside to that however was the fact that I was heavily pregnant and having mobility issues. Pairing that with the fluffy cloud bed Harry had in his room and I’d gotten myself into quite the pickle. I needed a wee, was quite desperate actually, yet I was stuck in bed. I’d gotten too comfy and I couldn’t get myself out of my cocoon.

Hence why I was calling Harry. He’d only nipped to co-op for more ice cream. But he wasn’t fucking answering and I was about to pee all over his sheets thanks to my daughter pressing on my bladder and dancing on it just to spite me.

It was another ten minutes until I heard the jangling of his keys in the front door. I heard the rustle of a carrier bag and huffed. Of course he had to be anal and put all his shopping away before he came to check on me.

When another couple of minutes passed without any footsteps coming up the stairs, I called out to him, putting as much distress into my tone as I could manage. Sure enough, Harry was up the stairs like lightening, his eyes wide with concerned when he slid into the bedroom.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why haven’t you been answering your phone?!” I shrieked. “I’ve called you so many times!”

“My phone is on silent from work. I didn’t even hear it. I’m sorry.” he apologised quickly but sincerely. “But can you please tell me what’s wrong because the way you shouted my name worried me slightly.”

“I need a wee, but your fucking marshmallow of a bed had swallowed me and I can’t getting out. I’ve been holding this wee for about twenty minutes so I’m in pain. Please pull me out.”

“I’m so sorry, Mags.” Harry said, rushing round the side of the bed to grab my hands. He gave me a good tug and freed me from my cushiony jail.

“Oh, thank God.” I sighed, but the pressing need to wee got worse. “Next time you go out, put your phone on loud, please.”

“Promise.” Harry nodded, making the sign of a cross over his heart.

“You shouldn’t be her last priority. You and this baby should be number one.”

My smile was sad as I stared down at my hands in my lap. For weeks I’d been thinking about the reasons Jenna would suddenly be so distant from me, but the ideas I came up with made my stomach turn. I didn’t want to entertain them, but I knew Harry would help me as best he could if I told him my concerns. He was good like that.

“I’m beginning to think the baby is the problem. Maybe she really isn’t ok with the fact I’m carrying it, even though she agreed when we discussed it.”

“I don’t think so, Mags.”

“Then what did I do?!” I was so desperate for answers. This had been a problem for too long and I knew it but I just had no idea what to do. “I love her so much, Harry, and I feel like she’s slipping through my fingers.”

“You didn’t do anything.” Harry brushed some hair behind my ear. The skin his fingertips touched tingled. “You show her everyday how much you love her.”

“Shouldn’t we be doing stuff together, to like, prepare for the baby?”

Harry nodded. He and I were always doing stuff together for the baby and it wasn’t even his child. He had no qualms about shifting plans for me. He never did.

“I keep asking her,” I continued, “but she shoots me down every time. The thing is,” tears started stinging my eyes and my throat was swollen as I laughed bitterly at my sudden realisation, “I always do what she asks me to do. I can’t,” I shook my head, wishing I could shake away this situation as easily, “I can’t remember the last time we did something I wanted to do.”

“Then take control. You tell her how she’s making you feel and tell her she needs to do something about it. Something needs to change, Mags. It breaks my heart to see you so sad all the time.”

Harry made it sound so easy. I wished it was.

“I try, Harry. Honest, I’ve tried to tell her. But then when I hear myself saying it, and she’s standing there looking at me, I feel so stupid.” A correction of that statement crossed my mind and I paused. “She makes me feel stupid.”

I didn’t know if I’d said that to myself or out loud, but then Harry said, “She shouldn’t.” and I knew I’d voiced it.

I looked up at him and smiled as best I could despite my emotions. If I wasn’t gay, Harry would be everything I could possibly want and I saw it when I looked up at him. His eyes were so honest and open and behind that was a deep love for me. I’d be stupid if I didn’t know that. We both held a deep caring for each other. I’d never find another person like him.

“You never make me feel stupid though.” I whispered. My heart racing as I inched closer to him. He was so warm. “Never ever.”

Something pulled me to him. A feeling that I’d only ever felt once before and couldn’t really explain. I ridded us of the last inch between us and pressed my lips to his gently, feeling the softness and warmth that I knew they’d hold when I’d thought about it before. My brain short circuited when Harry returned my gentle pressure, fitting our lips together in a way that felt so perfect my entire body felt like it was burning. In my head I knew I should have pulled away. I shouldn’t have pushed closer to him just to feel more of him surround me and I shouldn’t have wanted more, more, more.