When he gets back upstairs to his room the bathroom door is still shut and the shower is running. He stands outside, poised to knock and make sure she's okay, when he hears the soft and unmistakeable sound of crying from inside. His fist hovers above the wood hesitantly, and he finally raps his knuckles against the door. "Rose?"
There is no answer. When he tries the knob, the door is unlocked, and he slips inside the steamy bathroom. He can see her fuzzy outline through the pebbled glass of the shower door-she's sitting on the floor with her head between her knees. "What's wrong?" he asks, slightly breathless. His stomach is still churning and his heart pounding with the anger of Becca's false assumption that Rose was a prostitute. Not to mention the fact that he can probably expect a full-on interrogation from Miller later.
"Nothing. 'M fine," she says, her voice shaking.
"I'm a detective. Don't bother lying to me," he says gruffly.
The bathroom is silent except for the sound of the water hitting the tiles. "Rose?" he prompts.
"My mum is going to kill me. My whole life, I had it drilled into my head that she didn't want me to end up like her, that I had to do better. And here I am, pregnant by a guy I don't even know, unmarried, making barely enough money to afford my share of the rent, no A-levels, no qualifications besides mixing drinks...my life is a bloody disaster!" she sobs. "How the hell am I going to raise a baby?"
He is silent, searching for the right words to say. He doesn't know how to comfort her, or what to say to reassure her that it was all be okay. He's not even sure it will be okay. He could die without ever knowing their baby's name, she could be left to raise the child alone. Finally, softly he says, "What can I do to help?"
She hesitates before answering. "Well..maybe there's one thing you could do."
"Name it," he says immediately.
"Come with me to London? Meet my family, my friends. We'll tell them you're my boyfriend. That way, later, when they ask about the baby's father, I can tell them that they met you," she answers.
"You haven't told them yet?" he questions, raising his eyebrows.
"Not yet, no. Only my mate Shareen knows," she replies quietly. "I have my first ultrasound in two weeks...you think maybe you could come up then?"
"I don't drive right now. I'm not allowed to because of my heart issues," he apologizes.
"How do you get around?" she asks.
"Mainly my partner, Miller. Or former partner, I guess," he says. "We've both been relieved of duty for the time being. The former detectives club. Do you want to continue this conversation when you've finished your shower?"
She gets up off the floor and turns the water off. Her body is a blur through the textured glass, but his mind remembers her curves and fills in the blanks and with a flush of embarrassment, he feels himself growing aroused. Silently, he curses his traitorous body. Could the timing be any bloody worse?
"Could you throw me a towel?" she asks, and he hastily grabs one off the rack and practically flings it over the shower door at her. He turns his back, closes his eyes, and breathes in slowly through his nose, counting backwards from ten. Now is not the time.
"You alright?" she asks, and he can hear the shower door open and shut before he feels her hand on his shoulder.
"Fine," he answers. "So...London?"
"I can always drive down, spend the night, and drive back with you to the city in the morning. I'd really like for you to be there. For the ultrasound. I don't know when I'm going to be ready to tell my family...and I really don't want to go alone," she says, and he can hear the tremor in her voice even as he feels her wrapping her arms around him from behind and laying her cheek against his back. "Will you come with me?"
"Yeah," he says, his throat going dry. "Course I will."
"You're a good man, Alec Hardy," she declares.
He doesn't have the heart to tell her that she's wrong.
An hour after their conversation in the bathroom, he stands by the side of her car and hugs her goodbye.
"You're not getting off that easily," she says, grabbing him by his lapels and tugging him down to her.
She presses her lips firmly against his own, and when he inhales in surprise she nibbles gently on his bottom lip. His hands drop from her waist to her bum before he can even think about who might be watching them, and he leans into the kiss.
"I'll see you in two weeks," she says, cupping his face briefly with her hands.
"Rose...what are we?" he asks, grabbing her wrists.
She smiles sadly. "I wish I knew."
"Well...we've got time to figure it out, haven't we?" he says, letting her go.
"I suppose so, yeah," she replies, opening the car door. "Goodbye, Alec."
He watches her drive away, until her car is just a blue speck on the horizon, before he turns around and walks back inside. The lobby is deserted, thankfully, and he trudges slowly up the stairs to his room. Dismayed but not surprised, he sees Ellie leaning against the door.
"What do you want?" he says wearily, withdrawing his room key from his pocket.
"What do you think? Who's the mysterious 'friend' you were snogging outside?" she demands.
"You saw that, huh?" he says, unlocking the door. "Spying on me?"
"It was hardly spying when all I had to do was look out my window," she huffs.
"Whatever. Look Miller, it's complicated. Let's just leave it at that, okay?" he says, leaning in the open doorway.
"You always shut me out. After everything we've been through, you still won't let me be your friend!" she accuses.
"Miller, trust me...you don't want to be my friend," he says soberly.
"You're right, I don't, but unfortunately you're all I have left since most of Broadchurch is shunning me," she fumes.
"Gee, thanks."
"Don't mention it."
He shoves his hands into his pockets. "Look," he says uncomfortably. "It's nothing personal. I'm not trying to keep secrets from you. But it really is complicated. And out of respect for my friend's privacy..I really can't talk about it quite yet. That's how rumors start. The less you know, the better. No one can use knowledge you don't have against me or you."
"Fair enough," Ellie sighs, knowing he's right. The press has been relentlessly after both of them to speak out after Joe's arrest. "Would you like to get take away with me and the kids later?"
"Yeah, sure. I'll see you later," he says, finally closing the door.
He feels a little guilty for blowing Ellie off, but his thoughts are a mess and he's afraid of what he might say out loud, before he's had a chance to sort through it all. He flops onto the bed and stares at the ceiling.
"What the hell have I gotten myself into he?" he mutters, to no one in particular.