TW/ sexual harassment in the second part of this chapter, when you get to the stars, don't read if it will trigger you!

After last night I wish I could say I slept well, but it so happens that it was quite the opposite. My night was spent tossing and turning, and for the first time in this pregnancy, I woke from my sleep rushing for the toilet. Not to be sick, but to simply pee, and now I can't sleep at all.

I wish I could walk around this house without the feeling of not belonging here because if I were at my old apartment, I would have made a drink and settled in front of the sofa already. I feel stuck in this room until someone comes and gets me, and I don't know when that feeling is ever going to lift. I know as long as I continue this tiptoeing, the worse it's going to get. I haven't even made myself food in the week I've been living here.

After a minute or so of shutting my eyes, my stomach growls with hunger and I whine, "Really babies, you're really doing this to me?"

It's five-thirty am; half an hour has passed since my original wake-up call, so I know I'm beyond getting back to sleep now. Instead of wallowing, I decide to bite the bullet and go downstairs; the babies need food, I need food and I'm living here now, I need to walk around this place without feeling so anxious all the time.

It doesn't help that part of the anxiety I'm feeling is due to last night and what happened between Nathan and me. Not so much the sexual stuff, I'm an adult about that, but the conversation we had afterwards. I know I upset him and it's lying heavy; I feel like in their own way, the babies are forcing me to go to talk to their dad because we know he's down there already.

I could just go to the kitchen, make a snack and go back to bed, but I don't. I open the door to the basement and the sound of him working out tells me he's down there.

He turns back at the sound of me coming down the stairs, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep and the babies wanted a snack."

"So, you came and saw me," he grins, and I scoff, rolling my eyes. "Only telling you what I see."

"How are you so lively this early on a morning?"

"Routine, I'm used to it; this is like your nine am," he says, and I gasp, offended. "Am I lying?"

"I don't go to sleep sometimes until three am, you can't expect any more from me, dude," I laugh before the realisation hits, "Speaking of, I have my last shift tonight at Saints, so no more late nights."

"How are you feeling about that?"

"Sad, I'm going to miss it, but I know it's the best thing now I'm pregnant."

Once I knew I was staying officially in New York, I tried to retract my resignation but because it had already been three weeks, all they could do was delay it a week and give me some cover shifts. After today, I'm unemployed and looking for a job for the first time in three years, but this time I'm pregnant and no employer will want me under the circumstances.

"It'll all be okay, Iris," he tries to comfort me, realising I'm not as positive as I'm making out to be.

"Will it?" I ask more myself than him. "I feel like my life is genuinely crumbling around me; I've lost my apartment, I've lost my job; I'm living with you now rent-free, and I've already fucked that up. Like, are we even okay after last night?"

He walks away from his weights and stops in front of me, taking my hands in his, "Breathe with me a second," he demands and I look in his eyes, "Just breathe."

"Fine," I stubbornly say.

"I can answer what I do know and that is we're okay, Iris, nothing about last night has changed anything because believe it or not, we've already slept together. I had already tasted you before, I had kissed you and though it didn't happen last night, you've had my cock in this mouth of yours as well. Nothing will change us, I can't look at you and forget that night never happened because it did."

"I'm not worried about the sex, Nathan, I don't care about that," I try to communicate and he deadpans, not believing me, "If you don't want to listen to me, I can just leave?"

"I'm just waiting until you stop lying to yourself."

"I'm not lying," I tell him and he raises his brows, "You're telling me that if we were to have sex while I lived here, nothing would change?"

"Things have already changed, Iris," he points out, dropping my hands and stepping back.

"And that's what I'm worried about, I'm not ready for that change yet, Nathan," I argue back.

"It's already happened; you're pregnant with my babies!" he exclaims and I suddenly feel small, "I'm sorry for raising my voice, but things changed the moment you told me about the pregnancy. I am not a coward to ignore that, so why are you?"

"These babies are my priority, it's not fair on them," I whisper.

"What's not fair? You're not making sense, Iris, you're hurting my brain." I turn to leave because I can't deal with this conversation so early in the morning, but he grabs my hand, pulling me back, "Why is the idea of us such a bad idea in your head?"

"Your girls, the twins," I point out.

"They're a constant in our lives forever, us together or not," he points out, and I sigh, looking up. "Can you please just explain this to me so I can understand?"

"Fine, we get together, yeah? We have these babies, your girls get used to me being here, they see me mothering their siblings. Then one day, something will happen, we break up and I have to move out, it'll break them all, not just us. That is what's not fair, so why start something when it'll just hurt everyone in the long run?"

He scoffs, shaking his head, "Has anyone called you a pessimist?"

"Has anyone called you a dick?" I retort, poorly may I add.

"Yeah, plenty, but I'm not the dick here. Why do you go into situations thinking it'll always end badly?"

"I have yet to be been proven wrong, look what we're doing right now," I point out before I walk off.

"Iris, come back, please," he begs, but I ignore him and go upstairs.

He follows me though and once in the kitchen, I turn around to face him because I'm upset and I hate unresolved issues, "We are not the same person and you can't act like my feelings and views are similar to yours because we are very different people."

"I know and I'm sorry," he tells me and I see sincerity in his eyes which makes me believe him.

"You can't possibly know, Nathan," I whisper.

"So, tell me because how else am I supposed to find out?"

"I have never experienced a healthy relationship in my life," I admit, feeling vulnerable and way too open for a man I've only known for so little time, but if we're doing this now, I guess I have to be, "Not with my parents, not with my sister, not with any of my ex-boyfriends. The easiest way to explain how I'm feeling is it's like having hundreds of bees around me; only one out of all of them has the ability to sting me, but I'm going to be scared of the chance because every time I've put my guard down, I have been stung every single time."

Tears start to spill and he goes to wipe them, but I step back, wiping them myself with the back of my hand; I know if he were to touch me, I'd break down.

I sniffle, "You can't relate to that feeling, you've got two loving parents and four amazing siblings, and you've had a relationship so long that you had three kids with her. I have never been loved by anyone and you cannot blame me for thinking it will end badly when every situation always has for me."

"You may think I don't relate, but one of those people you mentioned isn't here. Do you not think I'm scared too? I'm also terrified, Iris, but you can't live your life in fear because that's debilitating. I am terrified over the fact I've introduced a woman to my kids for the first time, that I'm having twins with her and that she could leave at the drop of a hat if she wanted to because right now I have no confidence that she won't. Their mom died on me, Iris, of course, I'm scared as well. I may not relate to you on the degree you think, but I'm not completely naive either."

I am now the one fairly speechless and I'm instantly filled with guilt, feeling awful for how I worded it because I certainly didn't mean that.

"It wasn't fair of me to say that," I admit, "I'm really sorry."

"I'm sorry too, I don't like that we're arguing at six in the morning, but Iris please realise not every bee out there is out to sting you," he cups my cheek, his lips itching up into a smile at the use of my metaphor from before, "I'm sorry, I really am; I can't imagine how awful it is to not experience the love you deserve; the love that everyone deserves, but that's no one's fault but the people who've inflicted that. If I could change how you've been treated, I would but I simply can't. I can however show you that not every bee is out to hurt you because I promise they're not."

"But what if-"

He presses his soft lips to my forehead, "I promise, okay? I'm not out to hurt you."

"And I'm not going to leave at the drop of a hat," I whisper, and he lets out a breath of relief, leaning his forehead against mine, "But I need time, I can't jump into something like this; I can't be having sex with you when feelings are already involved, you have to understand that, right?"

"I understand," he nods before pulling away from my embrace, "Now, do you want breakfast? You said you were hungry."

"Yes, please."

Once I sit down at the island, he turns to me, "I guess I shouldn't ask you to be my date next weekend then, huh?"

"What to?" I ask, intrigued and he laughs, getting the eggs out.

"Charlie's wedding."

I find myself laughing too because really without Charlie, we would never have met and gotten ourselves into this situation.

"I think I may have to go, a credit to the babies and all," I muse and he looks over with a smile, "You're going to have to drink my champagne for me though."

"You can use the cover that you just don't drink and I will stay sober too because I can't drink heavily with preseason starting soon."

"Perfect plan," I say, but there's something else I want to bring up, but I've been scared to, "Um, by any chance can I ask you a favour?"

"Yeah, of course," he looks over at me, still distracted slightly with cooking.

"I don't really want to ask this of you and it's okay if you can't, but I no longer have a parking spot for my car at work, so I can't drive-"

"I'll take you and I'll pick you up, I'm happy to; Laura is staying the night anyway, so I can leave the girls in bed while she's here," he explains and I had honestly forgotten about Laura staying, but I'm glad she is.

"Thank you so much."

Then we ate breakfast over new and fresh conversation, with our issues aside and moving forward.

✯✯✯

My back is aching, my hips no longer feel like they're part of my body and my feet are numb from standing behind this bar for the last six hours; I'm more than over this shift, but with only ten minutes left, I keep telling myself I'll be in bed soon.

"Another scotch, gorgeous," the man who's been sitting at my side of the bar all night, orders another round. I can't ignore the way his eyes are all over me like I'm his prey and my body shivers in repulse. Ten more minutes, I tell myself, just ten more minutes.

He tries to keep my attention once I've served him, but I move on to other orders; we're busy, it's Saturday night, and I can't sit around and chat, not that I particularly want to.

With the rush, I don't realise that my shift is over until I'm told I can leave, and as soon as I hear the words, I don't hesitate and do exactly that. I exit through the back door of the club where Nathan is waiting in the parking lot for me, but as soon as I step out, I stumble into the man I've been dealing with all night.

With Nathan's messages open on my phone, I hit the call button at the top because I don't trust this piece of shit at all.

"Larry, I need to get home, I'll see you next weekend," I brush past the man, speed walking in hopes of losing him, but he follows me down the dark alley at the same pace, causing my anxiety to increase. Before I can reach the end, he grabs my waist, but I twist away, "No, you're drunk, go home, Larry."

"C'mon, darling," he grabs my waist again and I shiver out of his hold, feeling utterly repulsed by this man, "Stop playing hard to get, you slut, if you need some encouragement, I have cash."

"Piss off, Larry!" I knee him in the balls, having given him too many warnings and he cowers over in pain. When I turn around to leave, Nathan is running into the alley and heading straight for him, but I put my arms out to stop him, "Nathan, don't, it's not worth it."

He slips past me though and crouches down to the man's pathetic level, and a chill goes down my spine when he utters, "Get the fuck up and walk it off before I fucking kill you for touching her, and you better not show your face around here again, you got that?"

The man grumbles, standing back up and Nathan kicks him in encouragement, "Got it."

"People like you are fucking scum of the earth, you should be ashamed of yourself," Nathan tells him before he walks away.

I don't say anything, he puts his arms around my waist and he doesn't let me go until he's opened the car door for me and I'm in safely.

He drives off out of the parking lot, anger seeping off him, "Has that happened before?"

"Not with him, no," I whisper, looking out of the window to avoid this conversation.

"So, it's happened with other men?" he asks.

"Yeah, but I've always kicked them in the balls if they don't leave me alone, and they're always too drunk to stand back up afterwards. It's part of working in an establishment where rich entitled men come to drink; they think they can buy women with cash and false promises," It's why they're usually there.

"Dirty fuckers," he shakes his head and I look over at him with my brows raised, surprised over his reaction. I thought he'd expect this from a club like that, but clearly not, "You can't seriously be fine right now."

"I'm used to it, welcome to New York, Nathan?"

"You shouldn't be used to it, Iris, it's sickening behaviour."

"I know, but can we talk about the sound he made when I kneed him in the crotch, that was brilliant; he sounded like a dying hamster," I joke, and he looks at me like I've lost my mind, "Humour comes naturally to me in awkward or uncomfortable situations, Nathan, it doesn't mean I find it funny," I explain, so he doesn't think he's impregnated a total psycho, "I know it's not funny, I know it's serious, my skin is still still crawling, but humour helps when I can't process how I'm feeling. So, I'd rather laugh over how he sounded like a dying hamster."

He cracks a smile for my benefit, I think, "I didn't know dying hamsters sounded like that, I'd more so compare it to a strangled cat."

"Either or, could be both, I've never heard the sound of a dying hamster."

"You're something else, seriously," he laughs, before changing the subject completely, "I'll make you some food when you get in, would you like anything else?"

"Would a foot rub be pushing it?" I smile over at him, definitely pushing my luck with my bottom lip out.

"Anything you want."

At the end of the night, while eating my nightly sandwich, he gave me the best foot rub of my life and we both knew within seconds he'd made a mistake by saying 'yes' because that was going to be the first of many.

~~~

A/N

For all the women who have had similar experiences, I love you and you're not alone. It shouldn't be as normalised as it is.

(btw do not hate my Iris, she's got her demons but we love her nonetheless, deal?)