He only grunts in answer. Getting back to what he does best. And keeping yet another promise.
That yes we could work together, even share a desk as it turns out.
Some days it’s all there is between us. Grunts, moans, and sighs. It’s a complicated language but I think I’m learning fast.
Once Harry’s satisfied that I am, he reminds me of the biggest benefit of having a whole floor to ourselves once I scream his name for the tenth time this week. He asks me what my big news is.
The thing of my own I said I had to talk to him about before we got distracted with office work and then my mom’s call.
It’s been three months and I don’t think I’ve left the apartment once.
Everything we need is right here, and Harry’s farmed out all of his work to new contractors. Even landing his company a deal with a certain federal agency I’m not really supposed to talk about.
And it’s one that makes the scratch ticket winnings look like chicken feed.
Noticing me go quiet, the way I do when I wanna talk about serious stuff. Harry helps me back into my work clothes before slipping his own back on.
The single shirt and one pair of sweatpants between us are the only clothes we’ll ever need by the looks.
He says something to that effect as he finishes my workplace ensemble.
Doing up the one button left on his shirt before giving me a little nod.
“Done,” he remarks triumphantly.
His eyes already searching mine. And I know how he gets when he sees I’ve got something on my mind.
“We might be needing some new clothes… In a few months anyway,” I start, making him chuckle.
“Don’t worry about that,” he says, waving off the idea. “You can have a whole new wardrobe anytime you want.
“I didn’t mean for me, Harry,” I tell him softly.
Sitting on the edge of the desk.
My legs trembling still, even though they’re stronger than ever these days. It’s real nerves I think that are making them like jelly right now.
“Megan?” Harry asks me, concerned.
I rest a hand over my belly.
The one he’s been telling me for months is perfect and that if anything, he’d prefer to see me gain some weight instead of complaining about it all the time.
“I mean… New clothes… For our baby,” I murmur.
Almost feeling guilty or stupid for some reason and I look at the floor.
Not knowing when or even how could ever be the best time to tell him.
But I ordered the test online and it’s been positive three times in a row.
Harry goes quiet. But he’s waiting for me to look at him.
“Say that again,” he whispers. My eyes darting up to his.
Shining with the silver of a single tear.
“I’m gonna have a baby, harry… Our baby.”