Hands

Thirteen.

The next morning was rather uneventful. I took advantage of the free breakfast the hotel offered and got food for Clio and I. Harry and I didn't speak. We didn't even look at each other. Harry left at some point, but no words were exchanged so I didn't know where he went, not that I even cared.

I was busy keeping Clio entertained. She had found the educational games Harry had bought for her the day before. I wasn't planning to use them since it felt like I was giving in to Harry, but Clio insisted on playing when she discovered them. I couldn't tell her no. She was thoroughly enjoying learning her letters, numbers, animals, and colors.

It was nice to see my daughter's love for learning. It was how we would pass time in the past. She was enthusiastic and I genuinely enjoyed the moments when I could just play with my daughter. It made me forget about my worries for a little while.

I loved the way her little blue eyes would light up when she got a question right. Or how she would poke her tongue out between her lips when she was deep in thought. I loved everything about Clio, and getting to spend quality time with her always renewed that love and made it feel stronger.

We were sitting on the bed playing a matching game when Harry walked in. It was late afternoon. I glanced up but quickly looked away. I was still pissed off at him. I tried to ignore him.

He silently tossed a plastic bag on the bed next to me before walking to the other side of the room and staring out the window, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he stared intently at whatever was outside. I watched him for a moment, knowing he expected me to open the bag. But I didn't want any more of his 'gifts', and I certainly wasn't going to open the bag. I didn't want whatever it was.

"You gonna open it," Harry asked, still looking out the window. The room was silent other than Clio's occasional giggle or mumbling.

"No," I answered, turning my attention to Clio and trying to ignore Harry.

"Suit yourself then, Elora," Harry muttered, turning on the television and immersing himself in it.

I glanced over at Harry after a few minutes to make sure Harry wasn't looking, and then I silently peeked in the bag, curiosity getting the better of me.

It was a brand new phone. A newer model than the one Harry had ruined.

I covered my mouth in shock. My mind was confused. I was frustrated, angry, but also surprised. However, I still did not want to accept any handouts from Harry anymore. He was nice one minute, and then the next he was patronizing me and treating me like a child. The phone was nice, but I couldn't accept it.

"I don't want it, Harry. Please take it back to the store," I said quietly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Harry turn to look at me.

"There was an offer for a free phone with any upgrade. I upgraded my phone so I'm giving you the free one. Taking a free phone back to the store is useless," Harry explained, still looking at me. I refused to return his gaze.

"I don't need your handouts, Harry," I argued, turning to help Clio with her matching game.

"It's not a handout. I know you don't need handouts. It's a replacement for the ruined phone, and nothing more," Harry said firmly before looking back at the television finally.

"I don't understand how you can go from being a total dick to trying to act nice," I huffed, extremely annoyed with Harry.

I felt like he was being manipulative. Part of me thought I was just overreacting, but I truly felt that Harry was overbearing and too much sometimes. It honestly scared me. I genuinely did appreciate his kindness and hospitality, but it seemed like it came with the price of my dignity.