Sage

19

Thirteen weeks.

"Who writes checks anymore?" Jenny asks as we walk into the bank. I slide the shades from my face and perch them atop my head, the small check Harry had written for me in my hand.

To be honest, I don't know why he couldn't have just wired the money to my bank, we had a short argument about it when I went to pick it up. It swiftly ended with him snapping, "Do you want the fuckin' money or not?", To which I snatched the paper from his hand huffed as I left his studio.

We'd done the two interviews we were supposed to do a couple of weeks ago, and they weren't as bad as I thought they'd be. Harry ended up hiring a publicist after we tried to rehearse what I'd say and it ended up in another argument about my mouth. This was thirty minutes before we were supposed to go into the radio station, so it was safe to say he wasn't happy about that.

He ended up speaking over me for most of the part, casually interjecting when he caught that I was getting ready to overspeak or say something that wasn't supposed to be announced yet.

That was another thing, he didn't want people knowing that we were having twins or that we met at a club. I didn't fight him on this because I understood.

The next interview was a lot better. We did it over a video call out of Harry's condo to imply that I was living with him, which was smart. With my lightly done makeup and freshly done hair, I practiced what the coach had said; to look at Harry while he spoke, focusing on what he said.

"Look at his lips every few seconds, smile softly," She'd said.

And so I did.

And God did I wish I hadn't. I don't know if it was the hormones or the fact that it's been two months since the last time I had sex but I found myself staring a little longer than needed. Jane, the publicist who stood behind the laptop, had to wave her hand as Harry gripped my thigh softly, silently telling me that it was my cue to speak.

I could dislike Harry however much I wanted but it didn't change the fact that each time I looked at his lips too long, my stomach would get fuzzy and my brain would flashback to our night together; His words, his movements, his tongue. It didn't help that I had to sit with my head practically on his shoulder, basked in his expensive cologne and body warmth as well as the whiskey and mint scent as he spoke and softly chewed his gum. It became too much and I was grateful when the interview finally ended.

Harry instantly noticed when I yanked myself away and released a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"What the hell, Ellie?"

"How was I, did I do good?" I ignore him and ask Jane. She nods, a satisfied smile on her face.

"You absolutely sold it! Maybe even overdid it," She joked.

I laughed nervously as she received a phone call and made it her business to leave the room whilst holding a finger up, leaving Harry and me alone.

"Were you nervous?" Harry asked, his eyes were actually concerned as he flicked them across me. I stood and rolled my eyes. He was over-controlling and wanted things his way but I hated when he stopped and asked how I was feeling, or offer to take me home or so anything remotely nice because it confused me. I knew that it'd only take one snarky comment from either of us for another argument to start and that compared with my intractable horniness began to frustrate me to no end.

"I'm fine. Stop being nice to me, it's weird." I said defensively and grabbed my phone.

"Do you want me to be a dick to you?" He stayed seated as he looked at me with an annoyed expression.