Another month had passed and still no Harry. Iris was starting to get desensitized to everything or maybe she was just shutting up her feelings up so she didn't get more hurt than she was in the moment. She didn't know which scenario it was.
She was growing to love the baby in her womb with each passing day. They were a part of her. Plus, talking to them made her feel a lot less lonely, and the thought of building a future where both of them were going to happy, fulfilled and taken care off was all that kept her going.
She was on her way home now. It wasn't long until she took the elevator and reached her apartment floor. She expected to see Harry's door locked as usual and the hallway quiet as it had been for the past four months.
But to her greatest surprise, people were carrying Harry's stuff out of his apartment. Iris took an uncertain step closer then stopped when she saw the caretaker of the building step out.
"Hey..." she said, trailing out, "what happened? Why are you moving Harry's things out?"
The man looked at her weirdly. "Why would we leave a dead man's things in there?"
Iris's mind didn't register the implications so she blinked twice then asked, "Dead?"
It was impossible. Harry couldn't be dead. No. Never.
"Yes ma'am, dead. Now if you'll excuse—"
Before the man could finish his statement, Iris crumbled to the floor and lost consciousness, giving the already swamped man the added duty of making sure that she was okay.
She woke up a few moments later in the man's arms but she didn't even seem to hear his relieved exclamation. Harry was dead.