"He didn't."

"I'm telling you. He loved wearing her clothes, I have no idea." He laughs and shakes his head. "I was a little worried about my boy there for a while."

"That's priceless." I stir the mixture in front of me and laugh quietly at the image of little Harry running around Gemma's clothes. Apparently she used to ignore him sometimes so he would put on her clothes and run around claiming he was a girl so he could play with his older sister. I would have loved to see that.

Having Des here hasn't been as bad as I thought it would be. He cleans up after himself, he makes breakfast every morning and never leaves a mess. There hasn't been much of an attempt on Harry's part to talk to his father for the last four days, and he's being a little more dramatic about this whole thing than I thought he'd be. Like right now, for example. He left over an hour ago to get Sophie from daycare and then called to see if I wanted anything from the store. Anything to keep him out of the house longer, and now I find myself making up requests because I know he doesn't want to be around Des.

As per Harry's request Des has stayed away from Sophie. They've had some limited conversations, always with Harry or I around. If Harry had his way they wouldn't even look at each other, but that's not really possible. Sophie is a little confused about the whole thing. To her, Robin is her Grand-dad. Harry doesn't want anything to do with him so we haven't told Sophie that they're related. It's Harry's choice, but I think he's being a tad extreme. Harry's complete avoidance of home has also meant that I'm the one spending a lot of time with the man sitting in my kitchen.

My fiance has also been in an incredibly sour mood since we got home four days ago. Unless, of course, he comes to see me at work or we get out with the three of us. I understand that it's hard for him, I really do, but this is all a little extreme to me. There's no reason they can't be civil until we get this whole thing figured out, which we haven't even been able to attempt because Harry doesn't want to be in the same room as his father.

"We're back!" I hear Harry call, the front door proceeding to shut. A few seconds later the door swings open and Sophie comes running towards me. She's been getting a little fussy around me lately; because of my baby belly I can't play with her the same and I can't pick her up anymore.

"Hey, Soph." She holds up her arms and Harry comes to save the day, lifting her into my arms so I don't have to. "How was daycare?"

"Daddy get me ice-cweam," she says.

"Soph!" Harry smiles and shakes his head. "You said you wouldn't tell Mum!"

"Ice cream. Really?" I give Harry an exasperated look and he sighs. "Harry, we're having dinner in like, a half hour. Now she's not going to eat."

He glances at his father, lines creasing his forehead when he does. I know he did it to prolong coming home, but this is a little ridiculous.

"Mummy, I drew a picture."

"Did you?" I ask, turning my attention back to the little girl. "What'd you draw?"

"You and Daddy and me and Anne and Jacky."

"Can I see?"

"I forgot it in the car," Harry mumbles. "I'll go get it."

"Harry," I call after him. He walks out anyway and I sigh, Sophie sticking her thumb in her mouth. Des gives me an uncomfortable smile and I go back to my cooking while we wait. Sophie plays with my hair while I look for something in the fridge and after a few minutes I'm forced to set her down because of my damn back. "Okay, you can go play if you want."

"Is there anything I can help with?" Des asks from his seat.

"No, I'm just making spaghetti. It's easy enough."

"Let me know." He stands and points to the door. "I'm going to go to my room for a bit."

"Alright." He walks through the door and I start cutting up some peppers for the sauce. Not two minutes later I can hear someone yelling and I hurry towards the living room to see what's going on.

"I told you," Harry seethes, "That I don't want you near her. I leave for five seconds and you're already trying to talk to her."

"She asked me a question, Harry," Des defends in a tired tone. "Do you want me to ignore her?"

"Yes!" Harry shouts. "It'd be better if she never saw you at all, but it's too late for that now so just do what I'm asking and stay the hell away from my daughter."

"Harry," I snap. The hand that isn't holding Sophie's picture balls into a fist as he stares at his father. "Enough."

Sophie whimpers and gets up off the floor, scurrying over to me and wrapping her arms around my legs, her face hidden between them. Harry's face instantly softens and the anger drains completely when he realizes that he upset her.

"I'll be in my room," Des mumbles before walking down the hall and shutting the door of the spare bedroom. Harry looks down at the floor and rubs his hand over his face.

"You need to find a way to deal with this," I tell him calmly. "Either ignoring him or yelling at him is not the best way to do that."

"What do you expect me to do? Act like everything is fine? It's not fine, Savannah."

"I expect you to act like an adult!" He looks away again and I shake my head, taking a deep breath so I don't start yelling too. "This is harder for you than I can probably imagine and I know that, Harry. I'm trying to be supportive but you're making this so much harder than it needs to be. I know you don't want him here, but he is. So either ask him to leave or find a way to be okay with that because I'm tired of your mood swings. And I'm tired of you frightening our daughter."

I take Sophie's hand and lead her back into the kitchen so she can stay with me. I manage to get her onto the countertop, her bottom lip sticking out in a pout. She heaves a large sigh as I start pulling her curly hair back into a ponytail.

"You okay?" I ask quietly. She shrugs. "Tell me what's wrong, Soph."

"Daddy mad at me," she whimpers. He lip trembles and she looks up at me with watery green eyes. "You tell Daddy I sowy?"

"Soph," I coo. "Daddy isn't mad at you, angel."

"Yeah. He yell all the time when me here."

"Not because of you, okay? I promise, Daddy isn't mad at you."

"He still love me?" Oh my goodness.

"What?" The door swings shut and Harry stands there with eyes that match his daughter's, minus the tears. Although I'm sure those aren't far away. He takes a few long strides towards us and lifts Sophie off the counter so their faces are level. "What did you say?"

"Daddy mad at me," she whimpers again. She places her tiny hands on his face and I can see in his eyes that she's breaking his heart a little bit right now. "No love me anymore."

"I..." He swallows and shakes his head. "Sophie, of course I still love you." His voice is tight and he's having a hard time not crying with her.

"Why you yell?"

"Baby, I wasn't yelling at you. I know Daddy's been angry lately, but it's not because of you. I never, ever want you to think that I don't love you anymore. That's never going to happen, okay? I love you, Soph. Even more than I love Mummy."

"Hey!" I exclaim. He smiles and Sophie giggles quietly.

"Okay?" Harry asks her. She nods and he kisses her cheek a million times in a row before setting her back on the floor. Both of us watch her disappear into the living room and then Harry places his hands on the countertop, head hanging low as he leans forward. My hand runs over his back to try to comfort him.

"Harry-"

"I'm a piece of shit." He takes a shaky breath.

"Harry, come on."

"My own daughter thinks I don't love her anymore," he says. He looks up at me with watery eyes and my own heart breaks a little. "How could I be such an asshole?"

"Come here." He shakes his head and I tug on his arm. "Harry."

I pull him closer and he wraps his arms around me, taking a deep breath against my neck while I comb my fingers through his hair. None of this has been easy but if Harry ever thinks he's anything but an amazing father then I haven't done my job.

"She's fine," I assure him.

"I'm not."

"I know." He stands up again and closes his eyes when I reach up to wipe tears from his cheeks. "I need you to talk to me. This is your home, Harry. If you really don't want him here then we'll figure something else out but I can't read your mind."

"I want to be a good person," he says weakly. "I'm trying to do it for you and for Sophie but...I'm not sure...I don't think I'm strong enough for this."

"You can't possibly think that."

"I've been a dick ever since he got here, so I think I have a good reason to think that."

"That's not true."

"Sophie thinks I hate her!" He pushes his hands through his hair. "I don't think I could ever feel worse than this."

"Harry, listen to me." I place my hands on either side of his face to force him to look at me. "You're an amazing man. You're an amazing father and you love me and Sophie more than anything and you take care of us and I could not ask for anything else. I have no idea where you got the idea that you're not a good person, but it's not true."

It doesn't seem like he's convinced, but then the fire alarm starts going off because the noodles are boiling over everywhere. Harry helps me clean it up in silence and then decides to go order a pizza instead. When I get to the living room he's sitting on the floor with Sophie playing with her. I sit behind him on the couch and lean forward to kiss the top of his head. He should never feel this insecure. He's human, he's allowed to make mistakes sometimes. It doesn't make him a horrible person.

When the pizza arrives Harry sets it on the table and knocks on the guest bedroom door to tell Des we're eating. He's quiet now, but there's not as much glaring. Sophie sits on his lap the entire time and both of them look far too content for me to complain about the giant mess being created. When I look over at Des he's watching them with a far-off look in his eyes and part of me feels sorry for him. Losing family is never a fun experience.

"I'll be right back," I tell Harry. He lends me a hand to help me stand up and I disappear into our bedroom with our phone. I don't ever want to have to experience what Harry is and I don't want to regret things like Des obviously does. The number I dial makes my mouth feel dry and while I wait for an answer my heart pounds.

"Hello?"

"Dad?"

Notes

kinda short...oh well.

hi:)