when love lasts | wroetoshaw

twenty three

the weekend passed in a quiet blur. harry and i settled into an unspoken rhythm, one that felt surprisingly comfortable given the week we'd just had. the tension that had lingered after our argument felt like it was fading, replaced by something calmer, steadier. we weren't perfect, but we were figuring it out.

i woke up early, my nerves already kicking in about the appointment the next day. harry was still asleep, his face soft and peaceful against the pillow. for a moment, i just watched him, the reality of everything sinking in again. this wasn't just about me anymore—it was about us.

by the time harry wandered into the kitchen, i'd already made a cup of tea and was halfway through slicing some toast.

"morning," he mumbled, running a hand through his messy hair.

"morning," i replied, sliding a plate of toast toward him.

he grinned, sitting down and grabbing a slice. "you alright?"

"yeah," i said, though my voice was quieter than usual. "just thinking about tomorrow."

"makes sense," he said, taking a bite of toast. "it's a big step."

"yeah," i agreed, picking at my own slice. "it just feels overwhelming."

harry didn't push, and I appreciated that. instead, he reached out, nudging my leg under the table with his foot—a small gesture, but it was enough to make me feel less alone in it all.

after breakfast, i busied myself tidying the flat. harry offered to help, but he wasn't exactly thorough when it came to cleaning, so i sent him off to deal with the dishes while i tackled the living room.

as i folded the throw blanket on the couch, i couldn't help but think about how different things would look in a few months. would we still be in the flat? would we need to move somewhere bigger? the thought was both exciting and terrifying.

"you alright over there?" harry called from the kitchen, his voice cutting through my spiral of thoughts.

"yeah," i said quickly, shaking my head as if that would clear it.

he leaned against the counter, a dish towel slung over his shoulder. "you sure? you looked like you were miles away."

"just thinking," i admitted, sitting down on the couch.

harry joined me, plopping down beside me and throwing an arm over the back of the couch. "about what?"

"the flat, mostly," i said. "i mean, it's fine for us now, but with a baby... i don't know."

he nodded, his fingers tapping lightly against the back of the couch. "we'll figure it out when the time comes. no point stressing about it now."

his practical attitude was something i both admired and envied. where i saw a hundred things to worry about, he managed to stay grounded, focusing on what was right in front of us.

in the afternoon, there was a knock at the door. harry opened it to find a delivery driver holding a small box.

"you order something?" he asked, setting the box on the table.

"no," i said, frowning as i walked over.

opening the box, i found a small gift inside—a soft, knitted baby blanket in a neutral cream colour. there was a note tucked inside:

"a little something to celebrate your next chapter. we're so happy for you both. - mum and dad x"

i felt a lump form in my throat as i held up the blanket. "they already know," i murmured.

"rosie must've told them," harry said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "she probably couldn't keep it to herself."

"i should've guessed," i said, shaking my head.