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Chapter 86

Ghost in the mirror
I knew your face once but now it's unclear
And I can't feel my body now
I separate from here and now

— Rihanna, Never Ending

. . . .

Harry and I leave with Lilly drowsy in his arms with wet hair soaking Harry's shoulder. He's been silent ever since Sheri packed up her things and bolted out of the house. It's dark out by the time we leave and it's not difficult to tell that Harry wants to get home and not talk about the shit happening with his dad.

The car ride home is unbearably silent and the fact that Lilly is still asleep doesn't help. I desperately need her awake to break the depressing aura in the car. When we do get home, I get the pool bags and Harry unstraps Lilly from her car seat and carries her into the house. He has to wake her up for a bath and he does that in the other bathroom, I take a shower then crawl into bed to wait for him.

Once he walks back into the room, he strips down, and instead of taking a shower, he switches the lights off and slides into bed beside me.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about my dad's behavior earlier. He crossed the line and I'm sorry he treated you like that after you found out about your dad," I hold him close to me and kiss his exposed shoulder. "And I'm sorry about your dad. I know you don't want the pity, but I know that it fucking sucks."

"He's such a fucking asshole," he dryly laughs and flips around to stare at the ceiling. "And I'm an even bigger fucking asshole for calling him that as he's dying in a hospital bed God knows where."

He continues on with, "God, he gets in touch with us now? He must think that since he's dying we should be obligated to forgive him for running out on us, on my mum. We've been fine without him for the past six years."

"Do you think maybe he wants to patch things up with you?"

It's a stupid question, I know that. But, maybe Harry's dad has come to terms with Harry's decision of raising Lilly. It'd be a damn miracle if that were the case, though.

"I doubt it. He's a strong believer in sex after marriage and waiting until after a couple is married to have kids. He's way too traditional."

He tugs me closer to his body and rests his head on my chest. The fan above us is whirling his hair around hectically and his fingers play with a loose thread on my shorts.

"What if I show up to the hospital and he doesn't want to see me? What if when he sent his new wife, she was only supposed to ask for Gem and my mum?"

"She said 'Harry'. He had to have talked about you to her. Besides, she asked for you. I think he wants to make amends with you."

"It still makes no sense to me," he says. "After six years–six fucking years–he chooses now to get in contact with us? He's a fucking selfish prick."

"Are you going to go see him?"

"I mean, I have to. I'm doing it for my mum and Gem. I don't want to disappoint them," he says. "Will you come with me? I don't want to go alone."

"I'll go anywhere you want me to."

. . . .

The next morning when we both wake up, Harry goes on a long jog around the neighbourhood while I get a shower. We're leaving at ten on a six-hour drive to go see Harry's dad. When I get out of the shower, Harry's packing his toiletries into the zipper compartment of his suitcase.

"Fuck," he sighs and drags his hand across his forehead. "I still need to pack Lilly's stuff. Will you pack my bag?"

"Yeah, sure."