And just like that it fired up again.
It's somewhere between the ideal relationship and some dirty, seedy fling.
He ponders whether or not it is humanly possible to have a love affair with your own wife.
Perhaps?
To all intents and purposes, they were back together.
They slept together often enough.
But that was all they did.
And the more it happened, the more distant she seemed to become.
It was like he was losing her all over again.
And it was excruciating.
Wednesday nights and weekends, after spending the early evening with his son, would be spent in her bed. They would have sex, and afterwards she would turn away and go to sleep. In the morning, she would already be up and dressed by the time he woke, and she would be aloof and unwelcoming.
So much so, he had taken to leaving that night after she had fallen asleep simply to avoid it.
The two of them had found themselves in some unconventional, rather absurd routine; it confused him, but he was a creature of habit and couldn't for the life of him drag himself away from it.
He'd hoped that one day they could be a family, that one day he would be able to prove to her that he wouldn't let her down again. Unusually she had supposedly taken him back before he had the chance to prove himself.
Not part of the plan.
He presumes this is marginally the issue.
He tries to make love to her. To love her in the way he knows she wants to be loved, to cherish and worship her. It wasn't a task, considering the amount of time he had gone without her.
But it was as if she was a completely different person, who didn't want all of those things.
Who barely even notices your presence, even in the most intimate of moments.
She almost point blank refuses to look him in the eye, carefully making sure her back is turned, or her eyes are closed at all times. It is as if they are playing a game; despite studying the rules carefully herself, she has forgotten to show him. When it's over, and the rapid movement of her chest has stilled, she turns away and is silent, and there is no more contact.
He wonders if he'll ever understand the mind of a woman. Especially this woman.
She always instigates it, and yet it is as if she'd rather it didn't happen at all.
All he knows is that it has to stop.
One particular Thursday morning he wakes up before her and watches her for a short while, brow furrowed. Despite sleeping deeply, she is tense, almost falling out of bed she is so far to the edge.
He decides to go for a run that morning, the morning of the charity football game at the university and a warm up seemed like a fine idea.
Leo always takes these games so seriously.
The piercing cold morning air, fresh and crisp, fills his pours simultaneously clearing his head. He runs until he can barely breathe, the back of his throat burns and he can't think straight, before turning back.
On his return he finds Kit, wide awake, holding himself on his feet, against the side of the cot.
"Ow wow! Look at you standing up like a big boy!"
The little boy beams and in excitement lets go of the wooden frame to hold his arms out to his father, almost falling and whacking his face on the bars in the process. Harry is there in a split second, scooping him up into his arms and taking him through to the living room.
Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to stay at all that morning, as when Nikki appears at the door, to find Harry and Kit on the floor, laughing and playing, she seems shocked with the sheer domesticity of the situation they have found themselves in. At the door frame she freezes, in just a night gown, shock, fear and then anger appearing in her eyes.
"What are you doing?"
He tries to act casual. Perhaps she will just slip back into the way things used to be without another hitch?
"He was wide awake so I got him up. Coffee?"
She is tense, the muscles flexing in her neck as she swallows hard, blinking, unsure how to deal with the situation. She is fighting an internal battle, in which neither one side, nor the other shows more strength.
The fight was beginning to make her tired.
"You should go."
"Should I?"
He holds her gaze, they are both as stubborn as each other, both unwilling to be the first to look away. In the end, he gives a half laugh, before standing up and grabbing his keys and jacket from their discarded place on the sofa, brushes past her and slams the door on his way out. In hindsight perhaps he shouldn't have stormed out. He knows deep down she craves stability, constancy, but he is finding it increasingly impossible to prove himself to her when she is so distant. It's like fighting a losing battle.
The moment he's gone, she breathes a heavy but weary sigh of relief, exhausted by a mere moments contact with him.
…..
The day is grey and the campus football pitch is muddy. Despite the overhanging clouds, the air is cold and stings his heating face as he runs.
Despite everything that went on that morning, his spirits are lifted when he sees Nikki and Kit at the fence watching, Charlie is with them too.
Suddenly he wants to show these sociology lecturers just what pathologists are made of.
Leo has feigned nonchalance throughout the game, but his amusing victory dance after the Lyell Centre staff win doesn't go unnoticed.
Arms above his head, catching his breath, Harry nods to a few opponents politely, before making his way over to the spectators.
Kit spots him and reaches out to him, and he takes him from her, lifting him over the barrier into his arms. He places a kiss to the baby's cheek, before leaning over to do the same to his Mother.
Nikki pulls away immediately and those around them watch in confusion. He tries to catch her eye, question her, but she has them firmly fixed to the muddy grass under her feet, which have now stepped back considerably.
"Not here, Harry."
He is angry, furious almost. How dare she make such a fool of him? In front of colleagues, friends? For him, it is the final straw and he leaves her at the side of the pitch, taking Kit to see the rest of the team and leaving him with Leo before striding to the changing rooms.
He is in there a matter of seconds before she appears, unapologetic when she catches him half naked.
"Why did you have to make a scene like that?"
Perhaps it's just the mood he is in, but she seems to know exactly what to say to him to make him feel angrier than he thought possible.
"What the hell is going on here, how about you tell me that? What the hell are we doing?"
She looks taken aback that he has retaliated, and she flinches as he tears open the door of his locker, causing it to slam against its neighbour.
"I've been patient with you. God knows I've tried. I thought you just needed time…to get your head around things, but this is just bloody ridiculous, Nikki!"
"To get my head around what?"
"Us! What else? You and Me. But I'm not playing these games anymore, I've had it!"
"You think I want there to be an us?"
"Well, sorry, but that's the impression I got!"
They are both now engaged in a fierce and heated shouting match, their voices becoming louder with each retaliation.
"There's a reason we are separated, Harry."
"Well I didn't ask you to sleep with me last night! Or the night before that, did I?!"
On hearing a noise, they only just notice Zak, cowering slightly under their furious gazes when they turn, sharply and in sync to catch him in the doorway. It is enough to make him close the door of the changing rooms gently on his way back outside. They are too angry to worry about how much he heard.
"What was it Nikki? Another one of your stupid, infantile games? I don't understand what the problem is!"
Her mood swings like a ten tonne pendulum from apprehensive to furious in seconds. He knows from experience, despite his own temper, she can put up a pretty good fight. Zak was clever to escape…
"No. You wouldn't, would you? You wouldn't have a clue what the problem is because you've never been there! In the thick of it! You weren't there, for the sleepless nights at the hospital, staying awake all night through fear something might happen to him. You weren't there for the crying, the nappies, the complications, the check-ups. You can just swan into his life and back out again as and when you bloody want!"
He is fizzing, frustrated. He can feel his face burning and his eyes darkening, the hairs on the nape of his neck standing on end. In fact, she looks just how he feels.
"You know how scared and helpless I felt when he was ill! And as for now, you're not making it very easy for me to do it any other way!"
"And I'm just supposed to get on with it am I? Because this didn't affect me in the slightest did it, Harry? I'll just casually lose my friends, job and identity to bring up our child single handed, no fucking problem! You just let me know when you're ready to chip in."
"I was ALWAYS ready to be his father!"
A hiatus descends, and the air cools, though only slightly. They can read in one another's eyes what they're thinking after this sudden admission, he was ready for Kit. He had been for a while. Only she is brave enough to speak it out loud. The cause of everything. The unspoken.
"Anna…your child…would you have stayed there… in Hungary?"
Now he understands. He knows she has been using him, but there was always that underlying question, why was it him that she used? Why not someone detached? The answer is simple. Blindingly obvious. Of course she is insecure, especially after everything. She has needed you recently, but wouldn't allow herself close to you.
The issue has been staring you in the face this whole time and you hadn't noticed.
She doesn't think you ever wanted her.
Anna's death affected you, yes. But not because you believed she was the love of your life. When he next speaks, his voice is low, quiet. He can't shout anymore, he's numb, breathless.
"You were never second fiddle, you know that."
She does, deep down, he can tell by the look on her face. He'd felt guilt. Leaving Anna down in that little room and sitting, idly drinking beer while she and his unborn child were murdered, was the worst thing he has ever done. But it was over, finished, he had left it in Hungary when he had boarded the plane to London, hand in hand with Nikki.
No. That wasn't what kept him up at night. It wasn't the reason he struggled so hard to maintain his precarious stability, only to trip and fall, hard, at the final hurdle.
It was another kind of guilt.
Stemming from that fact that there is little voice in his head that isn't grieving for his lost child or its' mother, or telling him that he could have done more to save them.
It's telling him something very different:
'That was a lucky escape.'
Yes, the idea was romantic, moving to a foreign country to marry a woman he hardly knew. They would bring up their child together, happily. Slowly the beauty of the city around him would disappear against the backdrop of his mundane life. He would have relatively good sex and a mediocre job and perhaps Nikki would visit sometimes. Or every few years he'd get a letter.
Perhaps she would tell him about her husband.
Usually by this point in his thoughts he is so riled up he has to think about something else. It is the thought of this life...without her and the subsequent relief that came with Anna's murder and the consequent– slightly ironic – freedom, that has become the problem. He would have walked away from Anna, from Budapest, from his child.
For her.
He hasn't fallen back in love with her.
She hasn't fallen back in love with him.
Because neither of them really fell out of it in the first place.
"I've just been using you."
"Well, I've not been using you."
Because really, thinking about it now. He could never spend his life with anyone other than her. This one. One of many and yet so different, who now stands, anger fading from wide eyes to be replaced with confusion.
"Is it safe for us to come in and get changed now? Can you perhaps leave this for the boxing ring, hmm?"
Leo's sudden entrance forces them both to tear their stare from each other and come back to earth. It is only then that she realises just how loudly she must have been shouting. She says nothing more, afraid the damage she's done to her voice box may have rendered her unable to, takes Kit from Leo and leaves without looking back. Harry lets her go. He knows that will be the end of it, one way or another, there is no going back from what was just said.
That was the penultimate chapter guys!
I'm actually quite sad, I've really enjoyed hearing from you guys and posting this up!
Love to hear you thoughts :) xxxx