Yours Truly

I quickly shoved the stick into the back pocket of my jeans, cringing as I realized how disgusting it was, but covered it up as Bettie hollered that the door was unlocked. Tom Atkin peaked in, Lux balanced on his hip, and asked if we minded watching her while he made a run to get her more diapers from the bus. I quickly said yes, taking the bubbly baby into my arms, and lightly bounced her on my hip as I moved over to the couch. Bettie dropped down next to us, cooing over Lux as well, and patiently waited for me to tell her the results of my test.

“It was positive,” I whispered slowly, “I’m going to have a baby, like this, in under nine months.”

“Not quite, yours will have more of a tan, and much darker hair,” Bettie joked, trying to lighten the mood, “But seriously Val, congratulations.”

“Thanks, I think,” I muttered back, “Oh Luxie, am I even going to be a good mum?”

Lux’s blue eyes, wide as usual, just stared up at me, and she carefully placed her pudgy palm against my cheek. She babbled a few nonsense words, as if she actually understood what she was telling me, and patted my cheek softly. I smiled softly at her, my heart swelling for reasons I wasn’t sure of, and placed a light kiss to her nose. She happily returned my kiss, leaving a wet spot on my right cheek, and I couldn’t help but to laugh at her smile. Bettie quietly told me I would be fine, and for a moment I let myself forget that I had just received shocking news.

Of course, my serene state of mine was shattered a few minutes later when Tom came and took Lux just as the boys were barging through the doorway. They were all sweaty, and talking loud thanks to the buzzing in their ears. As soon as I saw Zayn, and the smile he had from being on stage, I booked it to the bathroom, and locked the door as I slid down it. I pulled my knees to my chest, burying my face in them, and let out the tears that I was surprised hadn't fell earlier. I could hear Zayn asking Bettie what had happened, her assuring him that it was up to me to tell him, and started hyperventilating as I heard him approaching. I choked back a sob as he jiggled the door handle, and tried to cover it up by saying I'd be out in a minute and that I was fine.

"Val, are you crying?" Zayn asked, still trying to open the door, "Babe, please open the door. You're starting to worry me."

"It's open," I said softly, clicking the lock over.

I slid farther back into the room; bracing myself for when Zayn pushed the door open, and did everything I could to avoid eye contact. He slid down next to me, his hands gripping onto mine, and attempted to pull me into a hug. I fought against his grip, starting to cry harder again, but eventually gave in to his grasp. He muttered words of comfort into my hair, rubbing my back in a soothing manner, and allowed me to calm down before asking any questions.

"Oh Caro's going to hate me. I got mascara on your shirt," I groaned trying to lighten the mood.

"They can just bleach it," he shrugged, waving his hand dismissively, "Now, are you gonna tell me what's wrong? You're never like this."

"I got some news today. And I'm not sure if it's good or bad," I said shakily, breaking eye contact with him once again, "I'm pregnant, Zayn."

I felt his muscles tense, and braced myself the worst. He quietly asked me if I was sure, his voice wavering a bit, and I took the opportunity to take the test from my pocket. He stared at the two lines that were already burned into my brain, and I was surprised when I noticed a few tears in his eyes. I held him as he cried, much like he had done for me minutes earlier, and cried with him.

"Part of me is really excited and the other is terrified," Zayn muttered, once both of us had regained our composure.

"Me too, but I think we'll be okay," I whispered into his neck, "Guess I should go to the doctor tomorrow to make sure I'm definitely pregnant."

"I'll have Paul get a car," he nodded, "We'll say you're sick or you need your ankle checked again."

"I bet management is going to love this one," I joked, bumping our shoulders together, "First we drop the news of the engagement on them, and now there is possibly a baby."

Zayn chuckled, kissing me softly, and told me he could care less what they thought about us.

======

I nervously say in the back of the blacked out town car, and kept Zayn's hand clutched in mine. My free hand was subconsciously sitting on my still flat stomach, and I felt Zayn squeeze my hand in comfort as he noticed. We hadn't told the boys the real reason we were going to the doctors, but Bettie knew and assured me it would be okay before we had left. Sebastian, our assigned guard for the day, informed us of our arrival, and I was grateful that no paparazzi had beaten us to the hospital.

After we had checked in, we were immediately put in a private room. I stared at the posters about pregnancy that littered the walls, and could almost feel the nerves rolling off of Zayn. I gave him a reassuring smile, and was relieved when a nurse walked in to take my blood. She explained the test to me, cleaning the area over my veins, and I cringed as I felt the needle pierce my skin.

"The results should be back from the lab in about 30 minutes, then a doctor will come in and go over the results with you," she smiled, removing the needle from my skin.

I did my best to smile back as she left, and patted empty spot on the exam table so Zayn would join me. He hopped up, immediately wrapping his arm around my shoulder, and I leaned into him as my arm circled around his waist. We made small talk, both of us feeling extremely nervous, and eventually found ourselves sitting in a comfortable silence. The wait seemed to drag by, and by the time the warning knock came on the door, I couldn’t keep my knee from bouncing up and down.

“Ms. Barnes? I’m Dr. Yutori, it’s nice to meet you,” a middle aged woman said, reaching her hand out for a handshake, “And is this your boyfriend?”

“Fiancé,” I smiled, shaking her hand softly.

“Pleasure to meet both of you,” she said, sitting on her rolling stool and logging into the computer, “Now, let’s get you some results. I just need your birthday and full name.”

“Valerie Marie Barnes. March 5th 1993,” I filled in, biting my lip as she typed away on the keyboard.

“Thank you, Valerie,” she said, still clicking around, “According to our labs you are in fact pregnant. Congratulations! Do you have a rough estimate of how far along you think you may be? Or would you like an ultrasound?”

I told her we weren’t sure when I had conceived, and she waved her hand and told me to lie down as she got the ultrasound machine ready. Zayn hopped off the bed, letting me slide down, and I hiked up my sweater so she could apply the cool gel. Zayn held my hand in his with a tight grip, and both of us kept our eyes on the screen that just seemed like a gray and black mess. Dr. Yutori pointed out the spot where the baby was, pointing to it’s apparent hands and feet, and I did my best not to cry tears of what I assumed were happiness, while I noticed Zayn doing the same thing.

“Well, from the looks of things, I’d say you’re about 10 weeks along,” she smiled, hitting a button on the side, “I’ll print you the ultrasound and give it to you before you leave.”

She then cleaned my stomach off, and talked to me about how to care for myself, and the baby, during my pregnancy. I listened intently; grateful she had a few packets and pamphlets to hand to me, and was sure I wasn’t breathing correctly until Zayn and I were back in the car on the way to the hotel. We didn’t say much until we were in the safety of our hotel room, and away from the prying eyes and ears of friends and press.

“Would now be a bad time to tell you that I thought your boobs had gotten bigger recently?” Zayn smirked, pulling me onto the bed with him.

“You’re such a perv,” I laughed, playfully hitting his chest, “I’m actually really excited about this, as crazy as it sounds.”

“I am too,” he smiled, kissing me lightly, “I mean, I always pictured having kids with you, and this is just speeding up the process.”

“Me too,” I smiled, cuddling into his side, “Can we not tell anyone until after we tell our parents though? I think we should tell them when we go up to Bradford when we’re back home. My mum may kill me if I tell her over the phone.”

Zayn nodded, agreeing his mum would probably do the same, and let his hand go down to my stomach. He pushed my sweater up, letting his thumb brush across the barely there bump, causing me to stifle a laugh at the tickling sensation. He stopped moving his thumb, realizing I was almost laughing, but kept his hand in place as we fell into one of our constant naps.