What in God's name is he doing here?

Your mouth fell open slightly, eyes growing wide as he strode towards you. His steps seemed slow and calculated, simultaneously giving you the desire to sprint in the opposite direction and paralyzing you on the spot. Your feet felt glued to the cobblestones below, while he had no trouble quickly closing the distance between you. That's the way it really feels to be completely and utterly shocked. People always say that "time stands still". The pretty girl makes eye contact with the handsome stranger in the ballroom and everything else around them seems to move in slow motion. But that's not what really happens. Time doesn't stand still, you do. You stand frozen while everything else around you continues on, relentlessly.

He was everywhere. In the air you breathed, from the tips of your fingers to the very depth of your soul. It ran through you, consuming you in its entirety no matter how badly you wished it wouldn't. You felt lost and unsure. You were drowning in his overwhelming presence, your heart and soul absorbing every drop of him it could while your body and mind screamed for him to vanish and leave you in peace. You were a ship being pulled out into the dark waters by the strength of the wind and waves, the safety and clarity of the lighthouse growing dimmer until it vanished, leaving you stranded at sea. And still you heard his name, a loud foghorn that reached every piece of you, leaving no part untouched.

Steve.

"You're a difficult girl to track down."

His voice was the same but everything else felt different. His hair had grown a little longer and a scruffy but full beard covered his face. It made him seem older, intimidating, and somehow even more attractive. Damn it.

You stared at him in silence willing yourself to speak. To move. To do anything. But nothing came to you. After all, what can you say to the man who put your heart back together only to break it again?

You had always known he was going to find you eventually. It was inevitable. But you didn't feel ready for any of this. There were so many reasons for hiding from him, some completely valid and others, even you had conceded, stemming from your own personal issues. Regardless, just seeing him standing there was hurting you.

He was someone you thought you could trust. He was someone you saw yourself building a life with one day. Now he was standing in front of you as someone who had ripped your heart in two. And that was too much for your defeated self to handle. So you pushed past him, heading back to the safety of your house. Whatever conversation you were about have was not one you wanted to have in the middle of the street. It wasn't a conversation you wanted to have period.

Steve followed closely behind, his hand resting not more than an inch away from your back, ready to stop you if you tried to make a run for it, but you weren't stupid. He obviously knew where you were staying now so there was no point in running even though every bone in your body was telling you to try anyway.

You walked back to the house in silence but the quiet was anything but peaceful. Part of you hoped that the walk would buy you some time to figure out what to say to him and process what was happening. But you were wrong. With each step your heart beat faster, your anxiety levels reaching heights you had not known were possible. By the time you reached the front door you had worked yourself up into a full blown panic attack. You sped up, jogging a few steps ahead of Steve, your breaths short and labored as you grew nauseous and dizzy. You unlocked the door, bursting through and went straight for the bathroom, clutching your stomach and locking the door behind you.

You sat in front of the toilet, your elbow resting on the rim letting your head fall into your hands as you shut your eyes, trying to slow your breathing. For a moment you thought you might get sick, your head spinning and your stomach cramping. After a few minutes passed, you were able to refocus, and with a few more deep breaths you started to feel not great but good enough to lean away from the toilet, your back resting against the bathtub.

The rest of the house seemed eerily quiet. You hadn't heard the door close or footsteps coming from the kitchen. For a second you thought that maybe by some miracle he had left. That he had decided to give you some space to process things but then a knock came on the bathroom door causing you to jump slightly.

"(Y/n) can you please come out? I just want to talk."

You didn't respond. You didn't want to talk to him. In fact, you had taken great lengths to make sure you didn't have to talk to him, not until you knew what you were going to say. Then the knocking came again, harder and louder than the first time.

"Open the door (Y/n)," he repeated, sternly. "I'll break it down if I have to."

You rolled your eyes, getting up from your spot on the floor to wash your hands. He wanted to talk? Fine.

Splashing some water on your face, you took one last look in the mirror at your tired eyes and pale skin. Well, this was as good as it's going to get. You opened the door, pushing past Steve who was waiting on the other side, and head straight for the living room. His footsteps followed behind you as you took off your jacket, tossing it on the couch then finally turned to face him.

His jacket was off too, his posture relaxed but his eyes were gleaming, alive with exhilaration and anticipation. He faltered for a moment when he looked at you, his eyes traveling to your stomach and freezing on your baby bump. You hadn't been showing at all when you had last seen him but now the bump was clearly visible. After a moment his eyes met yours again somehow showing both joy and sadness.

It was a bittersweet moment. You had wanted to share every aspect of your pregnancy with Steve, the highs and the lows. Now because of his choices you felt like you had to go through it alone, the weird pregnancy cravings and the morning sickness and pains. It was the first time that you felt truly separated from Steve. You stood across from eachother no longer a couple, just a parent and another parent. It was both an infuriating and devastating feeling.

"What are you doing here?" you spoke, finally finding your voice.

"I know you're upset with me but I need you to hear me out," he said calmly. Too calmly. As if he had planned out every word, performing some rehearsed speech to an unwilling audience member.

"How did you find me?" you asked, crossing your arms tightly and defensively across your chest.

"(Y/n), you know I never meant to hurt you," he continued on evenly, ignoring your question completely.

You had to refrain yourself from rolling your eyes a second time at his words. Of course he hadn't meant to hurt you. He wasn't some psychopath intent on causing you pain, but he had hurt you all the same after he had promised you he wouldn't.

"Can you just answer the question?" you replied, annoyed.

He sighed, looking conflicted for a moment before responding.

"Tony was able to track your location. He said you had tried to scramble the IP Address on your computer and it worked but you took a few seconds too long so he was able to pinpoint where the signal was coming from and-"

"And you thought you'd just show up here without any warning?" you cut him off, completing his sentence. "I think I made it very clear that I wasn't ready to see you." Your voice came out much angrier than you had intended but you couldn't help it. This was why you had been avoiding him. This is why you hadn't wanted to be found. You needed time and space to get over what had happened so that by the time you saw him next you would be calmer and in a better place. You needed to remain on good terms with him for your baby's sake but now he was here, standing in front of you and forcing you to talk when you weren't ready causing anger, stress, and resentment to take hold.

"What was I supposed to do? You just disappeared!" he reasoned, his voice finally losing the forced calm tone, raising to meet yours. "I needed to make sure that you were safe, that you were okay!"

"Well I'm not okay, Steve! Don't you get that?" you responded sharply, your voice growing louder than his but this time you weren't able to hide the unmastikable pain in your voice behind the anger. When you spoke it was as if every agonizing thought you had been bottling up came rushing out of you, a tidal wave of pent up suffering and heart ache.

"This is killing me! I can't talk to you, I can't think about you, I can't even look at you without being reminded of the fact that I was falling for you and the entire time we were together you thought there was a chance I was using you for money!"

His eyes stared sadly into yours as he took a step forward reaching out to you but you took one back, knowing you needed to keep distance between you. Your walls were up, guarding what was left of the splintered pieces of your heart from anything and everything.

"You lied to me. You met with lawyers behind my back. You cared more about protecting your own money than being honest with me, when I never asked for a single penny," you continued. At first you hadn't wanted to speak at all and now you felt you couldn't stop, needing to get it all out of your system and for Steve to understand exactly how you felt.

"I never wanted any of this. I never asked for any of this, I just wanted to be alone. You convinced me to give you a chance but you never gave me one."

Your eyes began to water but you didn't let any tears fall, feeling like you had shed enough in the past three weeks for a lifetime. Your heart rate began to speed up again as you paced the length of the living room, stress and adrenaline taking over.

"I'm sorry I disappeared and I'm sorry I made you worry about me but I'm not sorry I left. You signed that contract without even telling me it existed so you don't get to judge me for leaving when you left me first."

When you finished you felt a sudden pain in your stomach as a second wave of nausea rolled over you. Reaching for your stomach you inhaled sharply, taking two steps back and leaning on the nearest wall for support.

In an instant Steve was by your side, one hand on your hip to steady you, the other on your cheek. You looked up to see his face laced with concern but the pain was already subsiding. The aches and nausea were nothing new, your doctor even said that it was normal during this stage of your pregnancy and would become worse the more stressed you became. It was another bullet point you had added to the long list of reasons as to why it had seemed like a good idea to avoid seeing Steve until you had time to rationalize how to proceed. Instead he had appeared out of nowhere leaving you shocked, distressed and confused. It felt like you had slammed straight into a brick wall that was now falling apart on top of you, brick by brick, crushing your lungs and clouding your vision.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked, worried. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," you said, attempting to push him away. He was too close to you and you couldn't concentrate on relaxing your breathing when he was this near. Steve had other plans, standing firmly in his place refusing to budge so you continued to explain. "I get these cramps every once in awhile, sometimes dizziness, the doctor said it's normal."

You didn't want to tell him it was most likely stress-induced knowing it would make him feel guilty but he seemed to gather as much from your body language. He took a step back so he was still only an arms length away. The worry etched on his face relaxed slightly knowing that the baby and you were okay, but it was obvious he also knew you and knew that you were very much not okay, even if you were in good health.

"(Y/n) I... you don't understand," he said frustratedly, struggling to find the right words as he abandoned his prepared speech. "I wanted to tell you but-"

He stopped short seeing the look on your face and he seemed to finally understand that this was all too much for you. That for once, his attempts to be with you was just making things worse.

You stared at the ground, avoiding the intense gaze of the man across from you, staring at his shoes. They were a far safer target, they wouldn't be able to weaken your resolve or push past your walls. But then his feet moved, taking a step back in your direction so that your shoes nearly touched his.

"I'm not here to fight with you. I know my showing up like this is a shock and the last thing I want to do is cause you more stress. You aren't ready to listen to my apologies or explanations and I get that, just let me say this and I'll go."

His hands slid down your waist resting on your hips. His thumbs massaged there in gentle circles easing away what was left of the physical pain leaving you stuck with only the emotional. His right hand came to rest on your baby bump for a moment and you watched as he looked there his eyes full of remorse.

Even after everything you hated seeing him upset. You wanted to pull him closer, take away his sorrow and replace it with smiles and laughter. But the image of his signature on that contract seemed permanently burned into your brain, keeping you frozen in place. You stayed quiet, too afraid to speak.

"I don't blame you for leaving New York. I know how scared you were to trust me at first, and I hate that I broke that trust," he said, taking his hand from the baby bump and resting it back in its familiar place on your cheek. You continued to try and avoid any eye-contact, knowing the look on his face was the only thing that might be able to break you.

"I'm not going to give up on us," he continued. "I'm going to do my best to show you that I'm still just Steve. I'm still the guy you met in the bar that night."

His hand moved from your cheek to your chin, tilting your head up and forcing you to meet his eyes. They were so blue. They reminded you of the ocean, rapidly oscillating between intensely calm and dangerously stormy.

"You're my girl. You'll always be my girl... and I'm going to keep showing you that everyday until I earn back your trust. Until I fix this."

He bent down, leaning so that his forehead rest on yours.

"I have so much left to say but I can wait. I'll leave because I know that's what you need, all I ask is that you don't make any decisions about us right now. You're not ready to hear me out and I understand that just please," he said, his voice switching to a low and earnest whisper. "Don't give up on me yet."

He watched you carefully as you processed his words. This was your chance. He had hurt you deeply and intimately and in this very moment you could do the same. But you couldn't.

You didn't know what the future held for you and Steve. You weren't sure if you'd be able to trust him again after what happened, knowing that you could never hate him for the secrets he kept and lies he told but that you had been burned too many times for that signature to not float around your head in times of doubt. Forgiving is easy, forgetting is harder. Still, your brain was telling you to walk away now while your heart said to stay, that if you could miss a person as much as you missed him then there had to be some way to make it work. You were confused, conflicted and overwhelmed. You didn't know up from down or left from right. All you knew was you couldn't break his heart, even if he had broken yours.

You nodded gently and cautiously, his forehead still touching yours and you felt him relax slightly, the tension loosening in his shoulders. He picked his head up his lips hovering over the top of your head, and for a moment you thought he was going to kiss you there but he seemed to catch himself, thinking better of the idea. He backed away, squeezing your hand and giving you one last look before heading out the front door, closing it behind him. Even though he was gone, the ghost of him lingered in you leaving you breathless, feeling in part relieved but also incredibly and unconditionally alone.