Taken // h.s

Different How?

I heard the sound of the shower turn off and by the way Dad tensed up, he did too. I was frozen to my seat, unable to say anything about what he had suggested earlier.

“Just think about it,” he broke the silence, “you can tell me what you decide to do later.”

I hesitantly nodded, gulping loudly. My breaths were coming in short; labored spurts and I couldn’t gain control of them. Soon, Harry came out of the bathroom, hair still a little damp from the shower.

“So, what would everyone like for breakfast?” He asked, pulling some pans out of the cabinet.

Dad looked at me for an answer, but I wasn’t in the least bit hungry for anything. Especially not after what he’d told me. I was a nervous wreck and my stomach was in knots.

“Pancakes are fine,” Dad spoke up, looking back at a smiling Harry. He, in turn, pulled out some ingredients, including chocolate chips, from the pantry.

“Coming right up,” he intoned.

Harry began to mix ingredients into a white bowl while humming quietly. Dad and I stayed silent. I shook my leg nervously and Dad tapped his large, thick fingers against the counter, making a dull thumping sound. You could cut the tension with a knife it was that tangible.

“Veronica,” Dad cleared his throat, “do you mind if I talk to Harry alone for a moment?”

I looked at Harry. He was still turned around, but I saw his back muscles tense. He was nervous too. Dad flexed his hand as he waited for my answer.

“Not at all,” I replied, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. Slowly, I rose from my seat and ambled my way down the hall into Harry and I’s bedroom. Closing the door, I crawled onto the bed and buried my face into his pillow, breathing in his smell.

As I soaked in everything that had happened this morning, I wondered what Dad had to say to Harry. Would it be bad? Good?

I guess I would have to wait and see.

Harry’s POV

I heard the bedroom door close, so I turned around to face Veronica’s dad. He was a large man with a tough build. When I looked into his eyes, I saw Veronica. She looked just like him. Placing my hands on the counter in front of me, I braced myself for what he had to say. To be honest, I was a little intimidated.

“Son,” he said, looking straight at me. “Do you know my name?”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Of course, sir. It’s Vincent,” I tried to make myself respectable. After all, I was getting married to this man’s daughter and I wanted to impress him each time I was given the chance.

“And does it bother you that you knew my name before I ever knew you existed?” He raised an extra thick eyebrow, tapping his fingers on the wooden surface again.

I gulped again, afraid of what to say. What this leading to exactly? “U-uh,” I stuttered, hands beginning to sweat with anxiety.

“And tell me, Harry. When did you ever think it was a good idea to get my daughter pregnant before you even met me?”

I was sweating bullets now. I had no idea how to answer his questions. What did he want me to say, I couldn’t meet you because I kidnapped your daughter and she would’ve told you everything?

So I thought of the next best thing. “I-I don’t know what came over me, Mr. Bennett. When I met Veronica, I knew she was the one. She was beautiful and everything I needed. We didn’t come back to America because she told me she had run away and I thought that she didn’t want to see you. I’m very, very sorry. If I could take everything back, I would.”

That was a flat out lie.

Vincent continued to stare at me, eyebrow raised. Then, he sighed. “Do you really love my daughter? Or are you just marrying her because she’s pregnant?”

I was appalled by such a question. How dare he ask me something like that? “I loved her more than anything in this world, sir.” I looked him straight in the eye when I said this. He needed to know how much I cared for his daughter. “I promise I’ll take care of her and the babies.”

His expression stayed the same. “We’ll see.” Was all that he said.

No matter what I had to do, I had to prove to this man that I was good for Veronica.

Veronica’s POV

The rest of the day went by in a blur. I didn’t bother to ask what Dad had talked to Harry about because he didn’t mention it at all. We let Dad stay with us for the night and he was currently fast asleep in my bed. I could hear his faint snoring seeping into the living room where Harry and I sat on the couch, cuddling. He had his hands wrapped around my waist and my head rested on his chest. I could hear the beating of his heart.

But not even that could distract me from what Dad had mentioned to me earlier.

Harry lifted me from his chest and searched my face. He dipped his head and began to softly kiss my neck, all the way up to my jawbone. With each kiss planted on my skin, I felt Harry’s breath tickle me.

“Harry,” I giggled, pushing him off a little. “That tickles.”

He smiled, showing off his white teeth. “Does it now?”

He continued to kiss me, but it was more vigorous and I continued to laugh. I wriggled in his hold, but I couldn’t get loose. “Harry,” I warned, my voice a little more stern. “My dad is here.”

He shrugged, still smirking. “He’s fast asleep. He can’t hear us.”

I squirmed free and kept a good length between us, my expression hardening. “I have something to tell you.”

Harry leaned forward, touching my face gently. “What is it, baby?”

I sighed; bracing myself for the confession I was about to say. “Dad wants us to live with him in America.”

He dropped his hand and narrowed his eyes. He didn’t say anything so I took the liberty to try and persuade him some more. “I think it would be good for the babies. Dad wants to be a part of their lives.”

Harry pulled away and crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing even more. “And what about my mum? She wants to be a part of their lives too.”

From the beginning, I knew this wasn’t going to be easy to tell him. I knew it would provoke an argument. “We can always visit whenever we want,” I said, touching his hand.

He jerked it away, looking angry. “Just like we could visit your dad.”

I looked at the floor, away from his powerful gaze that was shooting daggers through me. “That’s different, Harry.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat and stood, towering over my cowering figure. “Different? How? You just expect me to move to America and leave my mum behind. She’d be heartbroken.”

My face erupted with heat. How could he say something like that when he basically did the same thing to me? Except it was forced. “You did the exact same thing to me, Harry!” I shouted, deciding to stand too. “Except I didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

His expression softened, but I didn’t back down. “And you lied to me. How could you say that my own father didn’t care about me when he actually did? How do you think that makes me feel? Huh?”

“Veronica-“ Harry started, reaching to grab my hand.

I flinched away before he could. “-No! Don’t even try to apologize. It’s already been done.”

He looked sadder than I had ever seen him before. “What else did you expect me to do, Veronica? I had to tell you something or else you wouldn’t have stayed with me.”

“You could’ve just told the truth and let me go home.”

Harry sighed, trying to explain more. “But if I had, this,” he gestured between us. “This would’ve never happened.”

He was right and I couldn’t argue with him. If I had known the truth about Dad, I would’ve been able to go home and probably never had any contact with Harry ever again. I looked up at him with a sorrowful expression. He hugged me tightly, rubbing soothing circles on my back.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” I cried into his shirt. “I love you.”

“I’m sorry too, Veronica,” he said into my hair. “And I love you.”