Page 182 of The Woman Left Behind

It was chill.

It was fun.

Even the cleaning and laundry I did on Saturday was both, because Harry helped. He swung a mean vacuum, and he was really good at folding clothes (specifically T-shirts—so good, I redid my entire T-shirt drawer in the way Harry folded).

Oh, and we popped by his place so he could pack more stuff to bring over, which meant his dad was smiling ear to ear our entire hour-long visit. I thought this was sweet, but I didn’t get it or Harry telling him, “I don’t want to hear it.”

I didn’t ask.

I expected dads and sons had secrets, and if he wanted to share his, he would.

I needed to hit some shops to find a cozy-country-cottage-chic dresser for him, but I’d find time to do that during the week.

For now, it was all good.

I knew it wouldn’t last. Mondays were Mondays for everybody, and Harry’s was probably destined to be less fun than most people experienced.

But he’d had a great weekend. The edginess had leaked out, he was relaxed, quick to smile, same for laughter.

So I felt like I’d done the best work I could to help him face the next day.

“Sleepy?” he asked after he’d collected me under the covers in the dark room.

“Mm,” I hummed in affirmative. “You?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.”

I cuddled closer, mumbling, “Trust you to make sex hot by taking care of yourself, and me, with no penetration the day after I got back on the pill.”

And yeah, we also swung by the pharmacy so I could take care of that, and Harry could ditch the condoms.

His chuckle was soft. “There was penetration this morning.”

“Mm,” I hummed again.

“And last night. Twice.”

“Oh right,” I muttered like I forgot (which I did not).

“I could delete what we just did from our catalogue.”

I pulled my head back. “Don’t you dare.”

The chuckle from him wasn’t soft as he cupped the back of my head and tucked my face in his throat.

“Okay, baby,” he murmured, humor still in his tone.

I so freaking loved that.

I closed my eyes and gave him a squeeze. “Goodnight, Harry.”

He returned the squeeze. “’Night, Lill.”

One of the dogs sighed.

And I fell asleep.

“Lilly.”

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