a simple favor (h.s.)

five

To my astonishment, Harry has managed to make all the appropriate payments just in time for me to begin the fall semester with everybody else. Enrolling in community college is a lot easier than I expected; once you fill out the forms and pay tuition, you're in—which means that, as of today, I'm officially a student at Truman College.

It's a statement that fills me with so much joy I spend the entire week in a dreamlike state, floating around my apartment as I pack up my old life and prepare to move in with Harry. I haven't been a student in ages—almost nine years, to be exact. There's a small part of me that's overwhelmed by the prospect of school and everything that comes with it, especially when I've been gone for so long. But mostly, I'm just excited. I'm so excited I could burst.

In the four years that Harry and I have known each other, I'm not sure if he's ever seen me genuinely excited. I've faked it on numerous occasions, always trying to maintain a certain level of enthusiasm on the job, but he's never seen me like this. I think that's why he's so surprised when he opens his door to find me standing there with an enormous smile on my face, my hands overflowing with boxes.

Instead of reciprocating my smile, a familiar frown slowly spreads across Harry's face. It does nothing to throw me off, mainly because I'm used to it, but also because my mind is preoccupied with what I'm going to wear for my first day tomorrow. I'm dragged out of my thoughts, however, when he says, "You're early." He glances down at his Rolex watch and blinks. "Three hours early, as a matter of fact."

I can't find it in me to feel embarrassed. "Sorry," I say cheerfully, even though I'm not really sorry at all. "I just wanted to get a head start on the morning, I guess."

Judging by his current state—messy hair, crumpled university T-shirt, and boxers—he does not share the same aspiration. Before he can say anything, I tell him, "You know, it's not very polite to answer the door in your boxers."

Harry glares at me and scoots closer to the back of the door, out of my eyesight. "Do you know what else isn't polite? Showing up three hours early, without bothering to inform the person you're meeting."

"You're usually up by this time," I shrug sheepishly. "I wasn't expecting today to be any different."

He looks at me, mouth still twisted tightly into a scowl. "I was making the most of my last day living alone."

I ignore his dig and step into the hallway, despite the fact that he hasn't actually invited me in yet. But I figure there's no need for that, since this is technically my house now too. "You're too kind, husband."

He visibly flinches before grabbing the boxes out of my hands and placing them on the ground. "How did you get here?"

"I took the train."

Harry stares at me, his gaze hard and unyielding. "You carried all these boxes by yourself on the train?"

I nod slowly. "What else was I supposed to do? I don't have a car."

Glaring at me, he snaps, "I was going to pick you up."

"Well, I appreciate that," I smile sweetly at him, "but clearly that wasn't necessary."

He folds his arms across his chest, the expression on his face cool and stony as ever. "Why are you in such a good mood, then?"

I lifted my eyebrows in faux confusion, blinking at him incessantly. "What do you mean? I'm always like this."

"Maybe when you were working for me, but these past few weeks, you've been the complete opposite. I think this is the first time I've seen you smile since before you quit."