"Mummy."

"Yes, Sophie."

"Daddy go home soon?" she asks sadly. I peer down at her sitting in my grocery cart. She's too adorable, I can't even handle it.

"No, baby. Daddy's going to stay with us now."

Her mouth forms a large 'o' shape and she puts her hands on her cheeks in surprise. I can't help but laugh and she practically screeches her next word. "Really?"

"Yes. Would you like that?"

"Mummy and Daddy and Sophie all together?" she asks. I nod and pick up a can from the shelf. She giggles and claps her hands. "Yay!"

"Where do you think Daddy went?" I ask, remembering he said he'd get something for me. It was just one aisle over and he's still not back? It's been about a week since he came home from the hospital and everything's been going so well. He's been healing well, we aren't fighting and I don't remember the last time we've all been so happy.

But where is he? What if something happened? What if he passed out? What if-

"Hey, did you want the whole wheat pasta or the regular?" Harry asks, coming up behind us. He's got two boxes of noodles in his hands, squinting at the back of one of them. "I think we should give Soph the whole wheat, but what if it tastes weird?"

"Are you okay? You're feeling, you're good, right?" I ask him quickly. He looks up and laughs a little.

"Yes, I'm fine. I was just getting pasta, babe, no need to get all worked up about it."

"Daddy, you want to sleep at our house tonight?" Sophie asks from her seat in the cart. She beams up at him and a large smile crosses mine and Harry's faces. Harry pretends to think about it.

"I don't know, Soph."

"Pwease? Mummy say yes," she says, pointing at me.

"Yeah, but you smell funny," Harry says. He puts the whole wheat pasta in the cart and tosses the other one onto the shelf.

"Daddy!" Sophie shrieks, giggling. "No!"

"Yeah, you do!"

"No," she says again, shaking her head and tossing her curls around. "Is Mummy."

"Hey!"

Harry rests his forearms on the handle of the cart, his face right in front of hers. "Do you want me to stay with you?" he asks. She nods and fiddles with one of his curls. "You have to ask me nicely."

"Daddy will you pwetty pwease with a lot of ice cream stay with me and Mummy?" she asks. He smiles and gives her a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"If I have to," he says. She claps her hands and he stands up again, peering at me next. "Are you going to ask me nicely?"

"I already did."

"I don't remember that."

"Okay well, maybe it hasn't happened yet but as soon as those stitches come out I'll ask you all night long."

His eyebrows shoot up and my hips sway strategically as I push the cart away from him. He mutters something under his breath as he follows me, a small smirk on my face.

"Is that a promise?" he asks when he catches up to me. He places his hand on my waist and his nose brushes my temple as he talks. "Because that'd be mean to dangle in front of me."

"Trust me, it's a promise," I tell him. I turn my head quickly towards his to peck his lips and Sophie giggles. "What, Soph?"

"Dat yucky," she says, pointing up at us. Harry tries to bite her finger and she giggles again. She's the happiest little two year old anyone could ask for. "Me walk now?"

"Okay. You have to stay with us, though. Walk beside me, okay?" Harry lifts her out of the cart and we continue walking through the store with Sophie trotting along beside us. Whenever she wanders I chase after her, since Harry can't really run or bend over or anything. For once we actually feel like a family; a real, functioning family that's just doing something normal.

"My, your baby is adorable." An old woman stops next to Harry while he looks at different types of crackers. "How old is she?"

"She's turning three in February," he says.

"She's just beautiful! You have a lovely family. How long have you and your wife been married?"

This is personal. "Umm...well, we're not. Married, I mean."

Sophie won't stay close so I swing her up to sit on my hip, making my way back to Harry. The woman gives both of us judgmental once-overs and I have to remember she's probably sixty so I don't slap her across her wrinkled face.

"Not that it's any of your business," I add. She raises her eyebrows and I turn and keep walking, hoping Harry does the same without continuing his conversation. Who asks that kind of question to a complete stranger?

"Savannah," Harry says when he catches up. "No need to get so defensive."

"Did you not notice how much she was judging us?"

"Well yeah, but it's not that big a deal. We're never going to see her again so who cares?"

"I do! It's not any of her business if we're married and for all she-"

"Babe," he laughs. "How are those pregnancy hormones treating you?"

Oh. "They're....okay, I see your point."

He laughs again and puts his hand on my back. Maybe my hormones are a little crazy, but she was being a bitch so I feel like it's not just my fault. Really. Who does that? I mean who thinks it's okay to judge someone like that? It's not, it's none of your business.

"Which jam does Soph like again?"

"Raspberry. Harry, do you think it's bad that we're not married?" I ask. His eyes go wide and he practically drops the jar on the floor.

"What?" he chokes out.

"Like..we have a kid and we're having another one and we're living together, so maybe-"

"Savannah, you're not seriously asking me to marry you in the canned goods aisle, are you?"

What is wrong with me today? "No, no I umm..." My face turns a deep red as he chuckles, once again moving forward to comfort me. "I don't know."

"Sweetheart, you know that I love you," he says, putting his arms around me and Sophie. "We don't need rings to prove we're a family."

He kisses me and continues pushing the cart along, rounding the corner to the next one with me and Sophie behind him. Rings and a piece of paper don't define our family and I know that, but it still would be nice to make it official. Right now it seems like Harry and I can bail so easily on each other; not that he would, it's mostly me that has a problem with that. I want to marry him, that's the thing. I didn't really realize it before, but now that things seem to be okay with us I really, really want to marry him. But what if he wants to wait a while? I'm not going to ask him because...that's just weird, but I want him to ask me sooner than later. How can you drop hints about that without being obvious?

"Do we need anything else?" Harry asks. When Sophie is back in her seat in the front of the grocery cart I take the list out of my pocket.

"No, I don't think so."

As we're checking out I keep getting caught staring at Harry. He just smiles the first few times, but after that he looks a little weirded out and confused. The cashier has a detailed conversation with Sophie about snow while she scans everything and Harry puts his arm around my waist, pulling my into his body.

"Are you okay?" he asks lowly in my ear. I just nod, but he doesn't seem convinced. After we've paid we head for the car my mother is still forcing me to use. Harry insists he can drive me around, but this is just easier anyway.

---

"Sophie, you need to clean up your room."

"Daddy, why?" she whines, running for the couch as soon as the front door is shut. She jumps on it and lays down, sticking her thumb in her mouth immediately. She knows exactly how to be cute enough to get her way.

"No, come on," Harry says. He sets down the bags in his hands on the coffee table, pointing over his shoulder towards the bedrooms. "It's a disaster in there."

"No," she pouts.

"Soph," he says sternly. "You need to put your toys away after you play with them. Now go clean up."

"No!" Harry raises his eyebrows and walks around the table. Sophie knows exactly what's coming, so she sits up with wide eyes and leans back against the cushions as Harry kneels in front of her. "Daddy, no."

"When Daddy asks you to do something, you need to do it," he says. She looks down at her lap and Harry puts one of his hands on her leg to get her attention again. "We let you have all these nice toys and a big girl bedroom, but you need to take care of it. If you can't clean up, you can't have so many toys."

"Why?" she whines. "Me like my toys."

"I know, baby, but you have to clean up after yourself. When Mummy makes dinner she cleans up after. That's how it works."

"Daddy do dishes sometimes," she says. "Daddy clean my room?" That's kind of a smart argument.

"Nice try," Harry says. He lifts her off the couch and flicks his head towards the bedroom. "Please go clean up your toys."

Sophie looks at me for help, big green eyes that pierce right through my chest. "Listen to Daddy," I tell her. She does a big dramatic sigh and picks up a stuffed animal she left on the table, throwing it as far as she can manage before stomping off to her bedroom. Harry looks at me and we both laugh at her dramatics.

"She's definitely yours," he says, taking some bags to the kitchen.

"Hey! I was an angel as a child."

"Sure you were."

"Don't think your mother never told me stories about you," I remind him. "You were definitely a trouble maker."

"I'll give you that," he says, taking things out of the bags so we can put them away. "But that attitude is definitely not from me."

"Whatever. Don't make me punch you in your stitches."

Harry laughs and we put everything away together. It's only been a week but this feels so normal with him, doing this kind of stuff together. Grocery shopping and cooking and cleaning and taking care of Sophie in the same place, doing everything together; that's how it's supposed to be.

"What?" Harry asks, catching me staring at him again. "Do I have something on my face or something?"

I shake my head as he walks towards me, pinning me against the counter, leaning his hands on either side of me. With my heart hammering in my chest and his face much to close to mine my eyes fall closed, inhaling deeply to gain some control of my body. He's healing, he can't do that yet.

"Is there a particular reason you tried to propose to me earlier?"

My eyes fly open, not surprised at all to find him smirking at me. Red cheeks and a shy smile portray my embarrassment over the situation well enough without having to express it out loud. I have a feeling he's still going to make me, though.

"Not that I would have said no," he continues, pushing his body up against mine. "But I would like to be the one to ask you. And I'm sure you'd like to have a ring on your finger."

"I wasn't really proposing," I say, a weak attempt at saving face. "I was just curious about our situation."

"And for some reason you think us eventually getting married is a question you need to ask me about? I thought it was quite obvious that I intend to marry you."

"Okay, mister, move back a little." He laughs as I push him away from me.

"What?"

"I need to try to breathe here. I'm supplying oxygen to two people and you're making me all...I don't know. Shut up."

He laughs again as I turn around to start making something for dinner. Harry's arms slide around my waist, his nose against the back of my head. Harry has this way of embarrassing me but also making me feel so special about it, like I should be honoured that he's the one doing it or something.

"Can you get the potatoes for me?" I ask him. He kisses my shoulder, quickly and playfully up my neck and to my cheek while I giggle quietly.

"Sure thing."

"Okay, I'm going to check on Sophie for a second," I tell him. He nods and I walk into the living room as I hear his phone start ringing. When I get to Sophie's room she's sitting on her floor playing in the mountain of toys she's created over the last few days. "Sophie."

She looks up at me with a guilty expression. "Hi Mummy."

"Soph, you're supposed to be cleaning up your toys, not playing with them."

"Okay," she says sadly. She starts cleaning up and after a minute I leave her to it to go back to the kitchen. Harry is just standing there, a bag of potatoes on the floor at his feet, phone held mid-air and a terribly pale, horrified expression on his face.

"Harry?" I walk over to him and put my hands on either side of his face to pull him out of his daze. Slowly his eyes connect with mine. "Harry, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

"No," he says. "I'm not."

"What is it? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

He shakes his head. "My mother just called."

"Is she okay?" He nods and doesn't say anything else and it's annoying because he's making me so damn nervous."Harry, you're freaking me out. What happened?"

"My father," he whispers. What?

"What about him?" I ask nervously. He swallows and I feel him shudder under my hands. "Harry."

"He's out."

"What...what are you talking about?" The haunted look in his eyes only increases and now I feel as horrified as he looks.

"He's out of jail."

Notes

:O

yeah. shits getting intense.

comment pleeeease :) i miss you guys <3