Her Deliverance (vol. 2) ON HOLD

Forty-seven

Something, was definitely not right.

The feeling had intensified over the rest of the week. Especially when Harry would spend increasingly more time at the gym with Cameron. Monday, he disappeared after work and told me he'd come by the apartment once he finished working out. I tried not to think too much into it so I pushed my suspicions to the back of my mind. But then Tuesday came, and he left straight from work to go there again. He showed up to the apartment a little after eleven that night but we barely spoke. He looked exhausted and passed out on my bed before I had a chance to ask how his day had gone.

Wednesday, was when my suspicions had arise again. I was still at work when he got clocked off, the gym bag I was quickly becoming familiar with slung over his shoulder. I had deflated a little when I saw it, knowing that meant he was going to the gym to meet Cameron again. He reassured me he'd come by the apartment once he was finished and he did. But the bruises I saw on his torso when he was changing his shirt before bed had my mind reeling with various scenarios on how it got there.

"What happened to you?" I asked in concern, fingers gently reaching out to touch the deep bruise on his rib. He flinched and pulled back before my fingers could actually make contact with his skin.

"Oh," he mumbled and shrugged. "I ran into one of the machines at the gym. It's nothing."

"It looks bad to have come from a machine." I frowned and Harry shrugged on his shirt, covering the bruise I was staring at. I looked up at him to find his eyes on the floor, his hand reaching up to push his hair back.

"Well it did. Like I said, it's nothing." His tone was a little cold and I furrowed my eyebrows. He moved across the room to turn the light off. "I'm tired, let's go to sleep yeah?"

That had been the end of that conversation and I was left wide awake, the nagging feeling that Harry wasn't telling me the truth pinching my gut. I didn't want to believe he was hiding something from me and I tried, I really did- to ignore it.

But then Thursday night came.

The problem? Harry hadn't showed up like he said he would.

The clock had read that it was only ten minutes away from reaching midnight, my eyebrows were furrowed as I stared at it. Harry had told me he'd be back at eleven the latest, and after nearly an hour, I tried to come up with an excuse for him. Like maybe he got held up at the gym? Or he lost track of time? It's what I'd told myself, sitting on the couch waiting for him to show. When the clock reached twelve-thirty, I finally gave in and called him.

He didn't answer though. Not even when I called a third time.

I had no other choice but to just sit there and wait, and eventually I drifted off to sleep. I'd woken up sometime in the middle of the night, the time reading it was past four in the morning. Despite my half awake state, I still noticed the lack of missed calls or texts from Harry. Irritated, partially because it was too damn early in the morning and because Harry hadn't showed up like he said he would or called out of courtesy, I practically stomped back to my room. I fell back asleep in my annoyed state, and woke up feeling the exact same way.

Which, brings us to today- Friday. Currently, I was stationed behind the counter at work and avoiding Harry's eye that I could feel on me. He came in this morning apologizing profusely, saying that he'd gone home to shower before he came over and ended passing out on his bed before he could even manage to get his shirt off. I accepted his apology begrudgingly but that still didn't erase my irritation with him. I knew something was up and the way he'd been disappearing on me all week had been piling up on my already shit mood. Last night had just finally triggered it.