Chapter 12 Harry
Harry
Ithought the night had been going well. It was the first time since I’d proposed where I was actually relaxed, enjoying the atmosphere between me and Molly. Eight extra hours at work were worth it to feel like that again.
I was used to going without sleep, and the cloying sensation of exhaustion was no stranger to me. But even twenty-five hours was pushing it. It had been easier to stay awake at the pub with the noise and constant conversation.
The night flowed with light happiness. Three hours later, I was standing in the centre of our living room, numbly watching Molly as she tore through the house.
“For fuck’s sake, Harry, can you please help me!?” she yelled from behind me. “I can’t go if I don’t have my phone!”
She’d wanted to stay until closing. We had to reschedule her taxi to the airport twice, which meant we only had ten minutes to arrange her luggage. That, on top of the way I was suddenly obsessed with knowing if Dom’s cock had been hard for me, meant my patience was running thin.
We’d been searching for her phone since the taxi dropped us at home half an hour ago, and it was pure chaos. But I’d switched into a calm state where all I could do was breathe. Everything was happening around me, not to me.
I’d spent years preparing for The Foundation vote, working on projects, public and private relations, holding endless meetings and giving weekly presentations, on top of spending extra hours at the office every single day to prove I was worthy to lead. And Molly was leaving.
I stressed to her how important the vote was to me.
But her sister was getting married a week after the vote, and there were so many preparations to take care of, and it took so long to reach her family's house, and other excuses for why she didn’t want to be there.
Despite the fact that I’d pointed out that she could stay here before we both travelled to her parents after the result had been announced.
But what did I know?
Nothing, apparently.
“As long as you have your passport and ticket, it should be fine,” I said, blinking heavily, as if that would make a difference to my exhaustion.
I even sounded numb. I didn’t know how I could function when all I could see was that dark look in Dom’s eye that fired a heat inside me I hadn’t felt since university. It was still jumping around my body, and one of the few reasons I was still awake.
Molly moved to the front door, dropping to her knees to unleash her rage on her tightly packed carry-on luggage for the second time, even though we both saw her phone at the pub.
“No, it won’t be fine,” she snapped, narrowing her eyes. “I don’t have any of my contacts, do I? How am I meant to call if I don’t know any numbers?”
She was moving into snarky territory again, but I was too tired to smooth it out.
“The signal is so bad out there that you won’t be able to make calls anyway,” I replied. I was used to her not being in contact for weeks when she went to visit her family, especially in the winter.
Her parents lived as far away from civilization as humanly possible, retreating to one of the remotest parts of Norway, hidden by fjords and only accessible by boat.
It was a gorgeous house built into the side of a mountain, but I’d only ever seen it in pictures.
I met with her parents whenever they visited Molly in London, whereas Molly did everything she could to avoid mine. Which was understandable.
“I’ll go back to Paulie’s tomorrow and ask them if anyone handed it in.” I moved towards her, feeling so dead on my feet that each footstep was an effort. “We need to get your bags ready. Why don’t you pack again and you can have another search at the airport?”
She still had plenty of time before her flight. It was making sure she actually got there that was the problem.
Molly dipped her head as she violently shoved things back into her rucksack.
“I need to talk to you about something first,” she said, suddenly deadly serious.
I didn’t want to leave on a bad note, even though we were already creeping towards it.
“Can’t this wait until you get to Oslo?” I asked. She had a six hour changeover, and that would be much easier.
Molly rose, her expression firmer as she took my hand and led me towards my favourite sofa.
“No, it’s really important that we do this now.”
My eyes flicked to the clock above the kitchen door. “You’ve only got five minutes, Molly, can’t you—”
“It won’t take long, I promise.”
Which meant I either listened to her willingly, or she followed me around talking at me while both of us grew more agitated.
Maybe if I were more conscious, my mind wouldn’t have flipped to things like she really was pregnant as Dom suspected, or she wanted to elope, or she wanted another cat because Mr Snuggles was lonely.
But I simply blinked again as she sat me down, knees facing each other as she gripped my hand.
I looked at her, really looked at her for the first time in a year.
She was frazzled, naturally, her wild hazel eyes settling as she perched on the edge of the sofa.
Her cheeks were reddened from the effort of searching, and she was fumbling slightly, sending her messy brown hair flailing around her.
Rounded face, dimpled cheeks, freckles I used to kiss.
Skinny jeans showing her curvy thighs, and a tight t-shirt doing the same for her stomach and breasts.
Her bare feet dug into a soft rug, and she curled her stubby toes, ones that used to play with mine as we cuddled in bed on lazy mornings.
We’d been through so much together, despite the arguments and the silence that followed, and yet I’d let myself be dragged away from her, always choosing work over her. No matter how many times she asked me to stay, and I told her I couldn’t.
Molly stared at the floor as the silence grew tense. For all her talk of ‘it must be now’, she was taking a long time to speak.
“I think we should take a break,” she finally said.
Through my exhaustion, the impact wasn’t as heavy as it could have been. I drew a deep breath as my eyelids fluttered closed to temper my spike of irritation as she continued.
“I think we need to take some time for ourselves to think about our relationship and what we really want here.”
My mind echoed back to Dom’s question when I told him I was engaged.
Do you really want to do this?
“Molly…” I scrunched my nose, squinting at her, trying to figure out if she was being real. She was acting seriously enough, at least. “I thought we were getting married?”
“Um, well, no, not really,” she said, her lips twisting as she rubbed her free hand over her wrist. “You asked me to marry you, and I said yes. That’s not the same thing.”
I stared at her, taking in everything I’d just seen of her in a new light.
“I mean, you didn’t even give me a ring,” she followed up weakly.
“Are you joking? You’re choosing now to tell me this?” I asked.
I couldn’t put any genuine emotion into my voice when my need for sleep was gnawing at me. My irritation morphed into a flare of emptiness as I looked at her in disbelief.
“It seems like the perfect opportunity.” She shrugged.
“Really?” I searched her face, wondering what the hell was going on. “I have two weeks until the vote. And you think here, now, before you leave for five weeks, is the ‘perfect opportunity’ to tell me?” My shoulders pressed back as I straightened myself and glared at her.
She went to answer, but I squeezed her hand.
“One second,” I said. I needed at least that to clear the fog in my brain and actually focus on what she’d said.
“Molly,” I said as neutrally as possible, despite the boiling pot bubbling inside me. “How long have you felt like this? Is your plan to just dump all this on me and leave without having to actually talk about it?”
“We’re talking about it now,” she said. I receded even deeper into that place where I was so angry that all I could do was stay calm. Molly and Mum were the only people who could make me so furious that it hurt.
“No. We are not talking,” I replied. “You could have said this months ago when you booked the flight, or when I asked you to marry me, or even when you arrived in Oslo and there was actually time to discuss this.”
“But we never talk,” Molly stressed. “What’s the point of waiting for the right moment when this is the first time we’ve actually had space to be together for a month?”
I took a slow breath, knowing how much it irritated her when I needed time to answer. The twitch of her lips only proved it.
“I can’t stop when I’m so close. Molly, I’ve told you how many people need me, what it will mean for The Foundation if I'm voted in. If I don’t fight here, then it will all have been for nothing.”
She tugged at my hand, determination bold on her face. “So, try fighting for me, too. Show me you actually care, and that this relationship means something to you. Because I don’t feel a fucking thing off of you right now, even though this is the closest we’ve been for days.”
I pressed my lips hard together to hold myself back. The problem was that I knew she preferred it when I fought with her, not for her.
“The Foundation helps thousands of people,” I said coldly. “I wouldn’t make you decide between me or your patients. Why are you making me choose here? Especially when you’re leaving.”
“Because I don’t have a choice!” she snapped back. “How else am I going to get you to listen to me!?”
I paused, my eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. I ran back through my memories of the past month, thinking of all the times we’d been together. They were fewer than most months, but we had already talked so many times about what I was doing at The Foundation that I thought she understood.
But I stemmed my anger. It didn’t matter how much weight I had piled on myself by taking on this position, or how I was forcing myself to go without sleep to remain caught up at work. I could handle it. I was strong. I was a Fischer.