Harry was hyperventilating.

Her body shook and she was struggling to breath. She felt giddy. She hadn't felt that many emotions in such a short amount of time since her mother's funeral, and they'd had a complicated relationship. Holding onto the edge of the desk, she stood, hanging her head down between her arms. Her neat locks fell in disarray.

"Are you okay, dear?"

Harry flipped herself upright as Erin peered around the door. Her head spun from the movement, forcing her to sit. The tingling on her scalp told Harry her hair had not parted in the correct position. She ran her hands through it, attempting to regain her dignity. She wondered how much of her head hanging, hyperventilation the motherly woman had seen. Could she shrug the incident off? She doubted it.

"Thanks, Erin. I'm okay."

"Are you sure? I've never seen Sam angry before. He's generally such a gentle soul, but I thought he looked like he was going to murder someone when he left your room. It was possibly the hottest thing I've ever witnessed." Erin smiled wistfully.

The image of the stout, matronly lady lusting over the dashing businessman made Harry chuckle.

Still, she wasn't sure if she was happy or not that Erin was aware something had happened between her and Dupret. It would be much easier to ignore if no-one knew, and she had no idea how big a gossip Erin was. After all, someone had called Dupret to inform him she was at school. On the other hand, it would be much easier to avoid similar confrontations with her knowing, and she was very grateful for the companionship right now.

"Yes, I don't think Mr Dupret likes me very much," Harry replied, ignoring Erin's final comment.

The middle aged lady gave her a pat on the shoulder. She picked up the coffee mug she'd provided for Harry earlier in the day, and shook it at her. Grinning conspiratorially, Erin ended the topic of Sam Dupret, "Ah well, he can be a jerk all he wants to, that won't stop use from enjoying his coffee maker."

***

By the time Harry had finished her cup of coffee (she'd lost count of how many that made for the day) she had tied up the loose ends of things she'd started earlier and given Erin strict instructions around the resetting of security codes and the locking of buildings, especially her office. Somehow her, Erin and one of the maintenance people, a creepy looking slip of a man named John, were the only ones left on sight.

Her feet felt heavier than lead as she made the two minute journey home. She climbed the stairs for what seemed an eternity.

She paused at the inner door on the deck. She couldn't believe she had only been in this town for slightly over 24 hours. As she opened the door, she was amazed by the transformation inside. Instead of disinfectant, she smelt bolognaise sauce. Instead of an empty lounge room, she saw their large corner couch suite, their dark plum curtains and their entertainment unit. Their books already lined the walls in their bookcase. Even Charlie's toys were already strewn across the floor. David had done it all.

She prepared to call out to him when he stepped around the corner. He smiled at her, his eyes twinkling. He had a beer in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. He held them out questioningly, "I didn't know which you'd want, so I got both."

Bless him, she thought, reaching out for the beer. She held it back out to him, as he put the bottle of wine down and grabbed the bottle opener out of his jeans pocket. They were the jeans she liked, the dark fitted ones with faded knees.

"Thank you," she said taking a deep swig, "I needed that."

She moved into the dining room to take a seat. The table was already set with flowers at the end and a candle in the centre. She hoped that in her preparation for the move she hadn't forgotten a special occasion.

"You're amazing," she prayed again that she'd said the right thing.

"Well, I thought we deserved a bit of a celebration. I'm sure that you're day was intense, and Charlie and I are pretty proud of our efforts too. I mean, the movers may have helped put the big things together, but we did everything else. Everything is in its home, except for the gardening stuff; for some reason there's no key to the shed way up the back (which really reeks by the way), anyway it's all under the house for the moment. And the only other thing I haven't unpacked is the massive box of your clothes. I know a man never messes with a woman's wardrobe."

"Impressive!" she said.

She sat her beer on the table and wrapped her arms around him, slotting her hands into his back pockets. She wondered what Dupret would look like in those jeans, and was instantly ashamed. They had been together for six years and she had never thought of another man before, except for characters in books and on tv shows. She was 100 percent faithful and hated her mind for betraying her.

David lent forward, closed his stormy blue eyes, and kissed her passionately. She kissed him back, but it felt off; like the taste of orange juice after you've brushed your teeth, it was almost good but some how spoilt. Why did that wretched man need to ruin a second good thing today?

The boiling pot seized David's attention, and he raced to stir the sauce, almost taking Harry's hands (which were still deposited in his back pockets) with him.

She used the disruption to refocus on the moment. Other than the noises in the kitchen, the house was silent.

"Where's Charlie?" she inquired, moving to investigate the decorating of the rest of the house.

"She's playing down in the end bedroom," David called back.

Harry peeked her head past the baby gate. The room was lined with shelves of kids' books on one side while empty shelves book-ended the window on the adjacent wall. Toys littered the floor along with a throw rug and about a dozen cushions in various shapes and colours. Either David had given up while doing this room, or Charlie hadn't liked his decorating.

Too lazy to open the gate, she hoiked up her skirt to step over it. Her short legs required her to stand on tiptoe and straddle the top of the gate uncomfortably while she performed the manoeuvre. It would have been simpler for her to just open it. She always thought that as she readjusted her clothing after the move (usually when removing her underwear from between her butt cheeks).

She looked to her right. There sitting on the miniature orange couch they'd picked up on sale at Ikea was Charlie. She had taken the packet of baby wipes off the change station beside her, and had arranged them around herself like a damp white blanket.

"Um... I think we might move the change station into Charlie's room," she called to David.

She'd passed the bedroom on the way down the hall, and had noticed it held nothing but their old arm chair, a cot and a couple of pictures on the walls. There would be plenty of room for the change station, and it made sense to her to keep it in the room where Charlie got dressed before and after bed. Still he had done a good job of spreading the stuff that had always filled one room across two, and making both look semi-full. They could now buy her one of those adorable kids' teepees Harry had been wanting for Charlie for ages.

She picked up the butt wipes and stuffed them back into their packet. Of course it tore as she was doing it. She threw them on the shelf in the built in wardrobe. They'd all dry out if the weren't moved into an air tight container, but that was future Harriet's problem.

She gave Charlie a cuddle and a kiss, and moved into hers and David's room. It looked sensational. Their photos were perfectly displayed on the dresser, a new bedspread was immaculately laid over the bed. It was a deep purple that matched the curtains, and a delicate silver floral pattern bordered around the outside. She wondered when he'd bought it. The lamps had been placed symmetrically on each night stand and the trashy chic-lit she was currently reading was placed on hers beside the photos from her uni graduation, their wedding, and Charlie's birth.

The only thing out of place was the cardboard box in front of the wardrobe. Harry dove in, pulling out her favourite skinny legged black jeans and her oversized knit jumper. The temperature was already dropping within the house, but she didn't think David would appreciate her putting on the old Converse hoodie she desperately wanted to slide into, not after all the trouble he was going to in order to make the night special. She liked the way the knit jumper emphasized her collarbone. She slipped the clothes on and ran a brush through her hair. Hopefully he'd be able to see that she was trying to pull off warm, without the air of 'having completely given up on romance'. After all, there was no quicker way to kill a marraige than that.

She returned to offer her assistance in the kitchen. She knew what the answer would be (she was a terrible cook and her preparation skills were even worse), but she still thought she should make the effort of offering.

She stepped into the room as David placed the plates on the table.

"So, I guess you don't need any help with tea," she said sheepishly.

***

The meal was even more amazing than it had smelt.

The day must have been a long one because Charlie's head had started to droop half way through their meal. Harry had found Charlie's pyjamas neatly placed in the wardrobe in her bedroom and had dressed her in the thickest onesie she could find; a big thick pink one with red love hearts. She laid her gently into bed and covered her in double blankets.

Her and David finally had some adult alone time.

She returned to the lounge room. David had the heaters roaring.

"The next best thing to a fireplace," he crooned, gesturing towards the heater.

She moved to him and kissed him longingly, her fingers just managing to grip his semi-short hair, and Sam Dupret forgotten. Within minutes she was standing in her underwear, and David was shirtless. Wow, that happened quick, she thought to herself. She resisted the urge to cover her belly with her arms. With David, that didn't matter; he'd seen all of her body at its best and its worst. Her hands traced the muscles on his biceps, and tugged on his chestnut hair.

She jumped as an alarm screeched outside. It was coming from the school.