l e x i
5 calls, 2 voicemails, and 3 texts later, Harry is nowhere to be found. He's definitely not here, I'd most likely find him on the couch watching tv or on his phone. I don't think he's with his friends, he would have told me. Then again, he would've told me if he was going out.
Is he mad at me? Wait. Why am I asking this, or even looking for him? Thinking about him made me upset. Oh forget about being upset for now and look for Harry. No, he'll be home soon, why look for him?
It's past midnight and he's still not home. I might as well try calling him once more and go to sleep on the couch. At least if he comes in, I'll hear and know that he's home, and what time it is. I dial his number and press call. Voicemail. Either he's purposely ignoring me or doesn't hear his phone. I sigh heavily and lay down on the couch, wrapping a blanket around myself. For the first time in a few nights, I actually fell asleep pretty quickly.
I hear the door slam and jump awake. I open my eyes and look down at my phone. 2:30 a.m. I look up to see Harry stumbling into the kitchen. He can't be drunk, he told me that he gave up drinking. But there are a lot of things I don't know about him. I decide to question him now, to see if his story changes if I decide to question him in the morning when he's sober. I get up and follow him into the kitchen.
"What are you doing just getting home now!? Do you know what time it is?"
"Stop yelling at me!" He whines, ignoring my question, and reaches to open the fridge. I grab the handle of the fridge tightly and look at him.
"I'm not yelling. Answer my question."
"Damn, can I go anywhere without getting questioned?" He groaned. "You're the one that wanted space, and now you're jumping on me with all of these questions. I went out, okay?"
Jumping on him with all of these questions? He obviously doesn't know what he's saying. I asked one question. And since when does he give me an attitude?
"Alright, Harry. I'll go out all night and not tell you where I am and see how you like it. I know how to ignore phone calls, too."
"You can't drink, you're pregnant." I can go out and not drink, not everybody needs a drink to have some fun. A small smirk appears on his face. I haven't seen one of those smirks in a while. I'm kind of thankful that I'm pregnant, because otherwise he'd be dragging me upstairs and throw me in bed. Not that he cares if I am or not, he would still do it. I'm hoping that he won't, although I have a feeling that it's what he's thinking. I'm normally right about what he does. I shake my head, keeping my eyes on him, and take a few steps back.
"Just let me make it up to you.." He steps towards me, since I attempted to back away. "Come on, it won't hurt the baby."
"Harry, I'm going to be honest with you. I don't think you're ready to be a father. I don't want you stumbling into the house at crazy hours of the night with our daughter in the house. I highly doubt that you would do anything, but I'd rather keep her safe. If you're not ready, that's fine. I won't have her. And you can continue to disappear mysteriously without telling me where you're going, because I give up. Do whatever you want. I just want to be happy. I know for a fact that you know that we're not as happy as we used to be but drinking your pain away won't fix our relationship. Unless you clean up your act and prove that you're ready to have a baby in the house, then I won't have the baby."
That took a lot out of me to say. There's always other chances, right? But will they be with Harry? Not if he continues to act how he has been lately. I want someone that I can be happy with, and that I can trust.
He stayed silent, he looked hurt. Honestly, I didn't feel bad about what I said. It's about time that I told him the truth. I walked upstairs and walked into my bedroom. I was just about to lay down when I heard glass break. A glass bottle. Harry.
