Status: Complete oneshot. Comments are always appreciated! x
Small
Small
A little girl with bright blue eyes is coloring on a notepad across from me. She’s young. Three, maybe four years old. Her braids are held together with colorful barrettes, and she’s wearing a mismatched outfit she probably picked out herself this morning.
I can’t help but smile as she sets down her yellow crayon and stretches her lips into a contagious grin. Her fingers grasp the paper and she rises, skipping over to the man sitting a few seats over. She shows him her drawing and I see it’s of the sun.
The man’s face lights up with pride. He’s her father. I don’t know directly but some things you can just tell. He praises her for her masterpiece and his smile only grows as she says she’s made it for him.
“Mr. Styles?”
I turn my head reluctantly away from the little girl and come face-to-face with the nurse who had sent me here to wait minutes ago.
“You can come on back now,” she tells me.
I don’t want to search her face for a sign. I’m too anxious. Any hint of a smile or glimmer of pity would ruin it. So I keep my head down when I nod and rise to follow her.
I fight the nerves building in the pit of my stomach as I walk down the hall. Whatever news awaits me at the end of it scares me, but not for the reason I expect.
The door on the left is open wide, but I knock on it anyway.
“Sam?” I call out.
“Over here.”
Her voice is too quiet and suddenly I’m worried. My eyes scan the room and I find her standing over one of the chairs against the far wall. She’s looking into her bag and I’m not sure what for because her back is turned. Maybe her phone.
I hear a few sniffles and see her hands pause, one of them reaching up to her face as if to wipe away a tear. My body reacts before my mind does and suddenly I’m behind her, reaching for her, knowing she needs me right now.
“It’s okay, Sam,” I assure her, almost certain that her tears mean what they think I mean, “We can try again.”
She shakes her head and turns to meet my eyes before my arms can wrap around her waist.
“No, Harry,” she whispers and she’s shaking her head. Her hazel eyes meet mine. She looks tired. We’ve both looked tired for days.
But then she’s smiling, and I know what that smile means.
My heart does a somersault and I can’t form the words to ask her just yet, so she reads the question from my eyes instead.
“Yes,” she nods, smiling even wider and cupping my face. Her hands are softer than ever.
My eyes are burning now because I’ve wanted this so badly. I welcome the tears and they stream down my face. Sam pushes stray curls away. I’m in shock for a moment and none of my muscles seem to be working. My breath hitches. The tears are coming even faster now. I’m a happy mess.
And then the entirety of it all hits me, and I kiss her. I kiss her to tell her I love her, to tell her I’m happy, and to thank her for giving me this gift.
This gift of our own child, finally.
This gift of you.
-----
You’re just a small bump unborn,
In four months you’re brought to life.
Might be left with my hair, but you’ll have your mother’s eyes.
-----
It’s been weeks and I still can’t stop looking at your mother. As if it were even possible for her to look any more beautiful, she glows brighter each day with the more time she spends with you. She smiles more and that makes me smile more as well. She’s just happy and you’re to thank for that, Janie.
“Why Janie?” she asks me one day as I’m preparing her tea. Her nose is crinkled in confusion, but I can tell she’s amused by the name I’ve already picked out for you, “That’s a bit girly. What if it’s a boy?”
I smile at her and lift her onto one of the countertops so she doesn’t have to crane her neck as much to look at me.
“If it’s a boy, we’ll think of something else,” I answer, “But Janie after her beautiful mum.”
She rolls her eyes but can’t avoid my cheeky grin. “Just her mum’s middle name, which is Jane anyway. Not Janie.”
“Oh, my apologies, Samantha Jane,” I mock.
She covers my face with her hand and tries to push, but after I threaten to lick her she laughs before giving up her attempt.
“Okay, fine. But since that’s what we’re playing at, if it’s a boy, we’re going with Edward.”
I shoot her a disbelieving look and she’s just smirking at me.
“Oh, come on, Sam—”
My protest is interrupted by the kettle going off and I’m called to action. I let her remark fly. For now. I brew the tea for a bit in her favorite snowflake mug before adding sweetener and just a bit of lemon.
“Mm, thank you,” she hums as I place it in her hand. Her eyes are closed as the steam tickles her face, and when she opens them she’s looking right at me.
“What?” she asks me, still smirking.
I don’t say a word. I stare at her flawless complexion, her skin tinted with a beautiful blush. She’s forgotten to cover the soft freckles on her cheeks with makeup this morning, but I’m glad of that. I love them. My hand travels up to tuck her hair behind her ear and I can’t wait for you to see how beautiful she is.
“You have that look on your face again,” she tells me.
“What look?”
Her lips curl into a sweet smile. “You know, that look.” She tries to hide her face because she’s feeling shy. “It’s that same look you gave me when you first told me you loved me. And the same look when you gave me this.”
She wiggles one of her fingers on her left hand, the one dressed in a diamond ring I’d picked out just for her some years ago.
When I’m too in awe from the memory to reply immediately, she looks at me again. Her beautiful hazel irises are sparkling and I have to remind myself to keep breathing as I stare at the beauty that is your mother.
“I just hope Janie has your eyes,” I tell her quietly, placing a kiss on the tip of her nose.
“And I hope Edward has your hair.” She playfully musses the curls I was too lazy to properly style this morning.
I chuckle, placing another tiny kiss on those freckles. “Drink your tea, mummy-to-be.”
-----
I’ll hold your body in my hands,
Be as gentle as I can,
But for now you’re a scan of my unmade plans,
A small bump in four months, you’re brought to life.
I’ll whisper quietly and give you nothing but truth,
If you’re not inside me, I’ll put my future in you.
-----
I spend a lot of time thinking about what you might look like, and ever since that conversation with your mother that visual of you we conjured up together has stuck in my mind. My hair and her eyes. Thick, brown curls and gorgeous hazel eyes. With insanely soft skin and a smile to die for. That’s how I see you.
For months now, you’ve been the only thing I’ve dreamt about. Dreams that used to be about your mother have become dreams about the both of you. My entire world now embodied into two beautiful people. Everything I could have ever wanted in my life and more.
The time I spend with you in those dreams is always precious. I’m entirely happy not only when I’m awake but when I’m asleep, too. With you. I imagine looking into your eyes for the first time and holding you against me, so tiny that the width of your little body fits in my hand.
But last night, my dream was more like a nightmare. A scary one. I saw you being pulled from me, exploited and soiled by the life I used to live. The mobbing crowds and flashing cameras ruining all the innocence that lies in your heart. I shout and yell and beg for them to leave you alone, but nothing works, and you're gone.
I wake up in a cold sweat and reach over to the left side of the bed.
“Harry, are you alright?” I hear when my fingers touch skin.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine, Sam.”
I place my hand over her belly, over you, and feel safer. She’s not that big and it hasn’t been long enough for us to feel you just yet, but it never stops me. I focus my hand on the warmth of her skin, imagining yours feeling the same, and vow that I’ll always keep you safe. I can’t let that dream come true.
I don’t sleep another wink that night.
In the morning I’m suddenly more thankful that my mum is coming over today, which she’s done on a regular basis since the wedding and especially more often since we found out about you. She’s beautiful and she’s your grandmother, but I can’t quite call her that just yet. (She won’t let me.)
She brings your Aunt Gemma along with her this time, which I’m happy about as well because it means your mum will get someone to watch girly films with. I’m just no good at that stuff although I try.
I sit on the sofa as Sam shows Mum and Gemma all the new furniture she’s put in the living room. Sam loves to decorate the house. With all the money we had leftover from the music, I told her she didn’t need to worry about that stuff. We could just hire an interior decorator. But she wouldn’t let me. She loved it too much. And I’m glad I listened to her because now our place is lovely, and you’ll see it soon.
“And this painting I got from an antique shop,” she says proudly, pointing to it, “For only 12 pounds. Can you imagine?”
“Beautiful, Sam,” my sister grins before her eyes land on something else on the wall that I haven’t yet asked about either, “What’s this?”
It’s a plain brown rectangular panel and it looks quite out of place among the other elegant looking pieces of artwork she’s picked out and situated around it.
“It’s a bulletin board,” she answers Gemma with a smile, “It’s probably a bit too early for it…But I thought the little one would need a place to put his drawings once he learns.” She taps you gently and I can almost see a blush on her cheeks.
My heart warms at her gesture and I smile.
“His? So you’ve found out the gender, then?” my mum asks excitedly, looking to me.
“No, Mum. Sam wants it to be a surprise.”
They go on for a while about some other paintings and the plants beside the table. I feel out of place, but it doesn’t bother me much. What bothers me at that moment is that my mind begins to wander back to the dream I had. The one about you. I zone out, reliving it in my head, and it’s almost like what’s going on around me stops and all I can see is you being taken from me again. I can feel my palms begin to sweat and my eyebrows begin to crease together. There’s an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach and it only gets stronger the more I think about that bulletin board being filled with paparazzi pictures and disturbing newspaper clippings.
“Haz? Hello? Harry?”
Gemma’s talking to me suddenly and I’m brought back to life.
“You alright, Haz? Left us for a bit there,” she laughs, ruffling my hair with her hand, “Be a dear and get us some snacks? We’re going to watch The Holiday.”
“Yeah. Yeah, alright,” I respond. I rise and make my way to the kitchen, avoiding looking at the bulletin board.
I start arranging biscuits in a circular pattern on a plate, perhaps taking a bit too long with my hands shaking. The nerves are building inside me the more I think about that awful dream. I bring a hand to my forehead to ease the headache when my mum walks in and I stop, trying to seem normal. She doesn’t need to worry about this.
“Sam’s looking gorgeous, as always,” she tells me once she comes over beside me and leans against the counter. I know she’s looking all around the kitchen. It’s even more decorative than the sitting room.
“Yeah, she is,” I try to smile.
“And how are you?” my mum asks. I don’t ignore the shift in her tone of voice.
“I’m alright,” I tell her, looking up at her briefly before turning my attention back to the biscuits.
“You look tired. Have you been sleeping enough?”
I remember how much she used to ask me that over Skype when I was on tour all those years ago. A few things have changed since then.
“Yes, Mum. I’m fine.”
It’s quiet for a few moments before she places a hand on one of mine, stopping my fingers from shaking.
“Harry, look at me.”
My eyes meet hers and she looks concerned. She pushes some hair away from my face and cups my cheeks like she used to when I was small. Suddenly I feel like a child again and I want to cry, but I can’t let her see that. So I let my head fall onto her shoulder and I feel her arms wrap around my waist.
“Shh, it’s okay, love. It’s alright.”
“I’m…I don’t know if I can do this,” I mumble into her blouse, “Sam would have a much easier time if she was with someone else.”
“Now why would you say a ridiculous thing like that?” she asks, her hand patting the back of my head, “Sam loves you, Harry.”
“It hasn’t been as crazy now, that’s true. We can actually go places without being mobbed. But after this, no way. The first One Direction child. Janie—I mean, the baby—will never have a normal life, Mum. We’ll never be a normal family.”
A light laugh escapes her and I can feel it against my chest.
“When have you ever wanted to be normal?”
She positions her hands at my shoulders and pushes me backward so that she can see my face even though that’s the last thing I want.
“For the first time since we found out, Mum…I’m scared.”
She cups my face again.
“Harry, that baby is going to have an gorgeous family with two lovely parents,” she says, “I promise you that. Besides, you had to grow up with a life in the spotlight and you turned out just fine.”
She smiles warmly at me before kissing my cheek and offering to help me with the rest of the biscuits. I try to smile back because I know she’s right. As long as Sam and I are there to protect you, you’ll be okay.
I try to put that life of paps and cameras and screaming crowds to rest. Even though I know I’ll never fully escape it, I can try. Because I can’t worry about the past anymore. I have to look toward my future, and my future is you.
-----
You are my one and only.
You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight.
Oh, you are my one and only.
You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight.
And you’ll be alright.
-----
I can’t believe how quickly you’re growing, Janie. It’s only been a few months and your mother is still radiating with that glow that only you can give her. Every night before bed, we lie together and I always look over at the crib in the corner, picturing you there with us, perfecting our family. Your mum spent ages looking for that crib despite Gemma and everyone else telling her it’s too early. But she was just too excited. She found the perfect one and had to buy it even though we don’t have the nursery yet. She does so much for you.
I know I say it a lot, but I just can’t wait for you to meet her.
Tonight is just like any other night except a bit less relaxing. Your mother hasn’t been feeling well all day. She told me it was morning sickness but more like “all-day sickness.” Either way, she’s been uncomfortable and I feel helpless because no matter what I do, nothing helps.
“Don’t worry about it,” she tells me, laying her head back against the headboard, “I’ll be alright soon. My mum was like this too.”
Her tired eyes are staring up at the ceiling and I know she feels weak. She hasn’t been able to keep any food down all day.
“I will worry about it, Sam.”
“Why? There’s nothing you can do!” she snaps, her voice raising as she turns her head sharply to glare at me, “So stop asking!”
I stare back at her apprehensively, waiting for the real Sam to return, and she doesn’t let me down.
“Oh,” she says as her face begins to soften, “I didn’t mean to snap at you like that.” She scoots her body closer to mine and I open my arms to welcome her. “I’m sorry. I’m going mental is all.”
I kiss the top of her head. “It’s okay.”
One of my hands instinctively reaches for you over the hem of your mother’s nightshirt like it usually does before bed. I don’t think it ever leaves throughout the night either. I just have to be close to you. I have to protect you.
We lie like that for a while and I’m worried. Lately I’m always worried. This time I’m worried for your mum. Yesterday I was worried about changing diapers. Tomorrow I’ll probably be worried about feeding you. Sometimes I even worry about buying you your first phone or hugging you after your first breakup or walking you down the aisle. I’m sure I’ve covered everything there is to be worried about when it comes to fatherhood, but now I’m worried that there’s more to worry about that I’m missing.
In the midst of my accelerating heart rate and racing thoughts, I feel something against my hand and pause the constant worries.
“Did you feel that?” I ask, looking down at your mother whose eyes are closed.
“What?”
“I just felt something against my hand.”
She opens her eyes and pouts. “I’ve had an upset stomach all day, alright? No need to tease, Harry. God.”
I can barely hear her as my total attention is diverted to where my hand is.
“There it is again,” I mumble, removing my arm from around her shoulders and resting both of my hands on her abdomen.
“Harry, seriously, you’re embarrassing me. Quit.”
I feel the movement against my palm once more and this time, it’s stronger. There’s no denying what it is. Even Sam’s eyes suddenly widen as she sits up and adds her hands beside mine.
A few more of your kicks greet us and they’re gentle. Almost unnoticeable if we weren’t paying so close attention because you’re tiny still.
“Oh, my God, Haz…” your mother sighs.
The feeling is extraordinary and for a moment, I’m speechless. To know that you’re actually inside there, that you’re moving and you’re healthy and lively makes my eyes sting and I don’t know how to react. Thoughts of the future erupt in a montage in my mind, and I’m seeing you in my arms, gripping onto my thumb with your tiny fingers, your tiny fist tapping against my palm, you smiling up at me with a toothless grin, wrapped in a baby pink blanket and a white bonnet to keep you warm.
“Haz, he’s moving. He’s actually moving! Oh, God, I can’t believe this is—ow. Oh, ouch.”
I hear a sharp intake of breath come from your mother’s lips as she lets out a little squirm. I want to ask her what’s wrong but I can’t form words.
She giggles. “He has a strong kick, this one. I know he doesn’t get that from his father.”
I look up to see her smirking at me, amused at her joke that was likely true since I’m pretty terrible at football. I want to counter her, but my voice is suddenly gone.
Her face morphs into one of awe as she cups my face in her soft hands.
“Harry, you’re crying,” she whispers. I don’t realize my face is wet until she starts wiping away tears with her fingertips.
I sniffle and try to smile.
“Oh, Harry,” she grins before kissing me.
My forehead rests against hers and I think she’s crying too.
“I’m so happy, Sam,” I tell her thickly.
And I really, truly, completely am.
-----
You’re just a small bump unknown,
You’ll grow into your skin.
With a smile like hers
And a dimple beneath your chin.
Fingernails the size of a half grain of rice,
And eyelids closed to be soon opened wide.
A small bump, in four months you’ll open your eyes.
-----
“Harry, I’m nervous.”
I can’t lie, I’m nervous too. Especially right now. My eyes meet your mum’s face. She’s staring up at the ceiling with her hands embracing you over the fabric of her gown.
“But I’m excited at the same time,” she laughs lightly, “You know?”
She looks at me hopefully and I nod, reaching for hand. “I know, Sam.”
We’ve been waiting in here for just a few minutes. We should be used to this kind of waiting. We experience it with every doctor’s appointment. But it never gets any easier. And this is a little different.
A woman, I think she’s a nurse, comes into the room and greets us politely. She takes a seat on the other side of the bed and lifts the hem of your mother’s gown to expose her stomach. She mutters about something being cold and then spreads some weird clear-colored liquid on. Your mum flinches a bit and I tighten my grip on her hand.
“It’s alright,” she laughs.
The nurse takes some device and presses it to the skin, turning on a monitor and moving around. She makes small talk, but I don’t pay much attention. My heart is pounding from within my chest.
“Are you okay?” I ask your mum instinctively.
She nods. “I’m okay, Harry. Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I laugh, “I’m good.”
“Well you’re about to get a little bit better,” I hear the nurse say, “Baby looks healthy. Very healthy, actually.”
Your mum and I find the monitor and my stomach drops.
There you are.
“Oh, God, Harry. Look,” Sam sighs, “Look at the head. And the fingers.”
I’m not blinking. I can’t spare a millisecond I could spend looking at you. I’m in shock, unable to fully comprehend how you, so tiny and so fragile, are real. Real and just a few months away from making your grand entrance. Real and right here inside Sam.
Real and mine.
“She’s beautiful,” I whisper.
“Oh, don’t tell us the gender, please,” your mum quickly warns the nurse, “Please.”
“I won’t. Cross my heart, Mrs. Styles.”
I can hear them talking, but I can’t see them anymore. All I see is you. All I can picture is you. Your fingers are so small. Everything about you is so small. I can’t wait to hold you and keep you safe. Keep you protected until you’re big enough. Keep you with us while you grow. I can’t wait to see those big beautiful hazel eyes open and meet mine for the first time.
I can’t wait for you.
I already love you.
-----
I’ll hold you tightly and tell you nothing but truth.
If you’re not inside me, I’ll put my future in you.
You are my one and only.
You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight.
Oh, you are my one and only.
You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight.
And you’ll be alright.
-----
Today Louis is coming over. I’m not quite sure what to call him for you. Uncle Louis? I guess that’s about right. There are a lot of things I can say about him but I think one thing is the most important.
After your mum, Louis is my best friend.
He’s been around constantly since we found out about you. He’s even helping with the nursery decorations. It’s nice having him around. It keeps me grounded and level-headed, especially since that dream.
When he arrives, he hugs your mum before he hugs me. He adores her. Thinks she’s amazing. And he couldn’t be more right.
“You’re looking lovely, Sam,” he says, kissing her cheek.
“Oh, thank you, Louis,” she smiles.
“And so are you, mate. As gorgeous as ever.” He ruffles my hair and hugs me just like old times. I laugh. Same old Louis.
“Come in, Lou. We have leftover casserole from when Harry’s mum came over the other day. Stay for dinner,” your mum says.
Louis bites his lip. “I’d love to, beautiful, but do you mind if I steal Hazza for a bit? I promise we’ll be back before dinner.”
I look at him confusedly, but I’m not really surprised. You have to expect surprises with Uncle Louis. You’ll learn that once you meet him.
Your mum eyes me with a smile.
“Sure, Louis,” she says, “He needs a break.”
I lean down to kiss her lips, not liking the fact that I’m leaving her alone.
“I’ll be home soon,” I promise, pressing another kiss to her forehead and grabbing a jacket before heading out with Lou. She waves from the doorway and I hope she’ll be alright by herself.
“Where are we off to?” I ask once we’re in the car.
“My place,” he answers, “Don’t worry, Sam will be fine.”
“Your place? Then why’d you ask if you could come over? I would’ve just met you there.”
“I wanted to see her, of course. Silly.”
I nod. “She was pretty excited to see you.”
“Because I’m charming,” he brags, “But she was right. You do need a break. You look like shit.”
I roll my eyes because I don’t look that bad.
“You told me I look lovely.”
Lou laughs. “I lied.”
We drive to his place and for a moment I feel odd. He has the same car and same flat he’s always had. He even looks the same. He is the same. But I know I’m not. You’ve changed me and so has Sam. I think of her and in honesty I’d like to go back home to her. As much as I enjoy spending time with Louis, getting drunk and eating pizza isn’t my idea of a good time anymore. I’ve grown up. I’ve gone through that phase. Now, I’m perfectly happy spending my evening with you and your mum, making endless cups of tea and massaging her back by the fireplace.
“Come on,” Lou encourages me once I step out of his car and shut the door. He’s holding brown bags in his arms and I can only imagine the amount of liquor and junk food he’s bought.
“Louis, I don’t think we should—”
Before I can finish my sentence, he’s walked away from me and I have no choice but to follow. He strides down the path towards his flat building door and swings it open, beckoning me inside.
“You remember which one it is,” he says with raised eyebrows.
“Yes, but I don’t think we should do this, Lou. I can’t—"
“Will you just go, Haz? Trust me. You need this.”
I groan and follow his directions. Up the many flights of stairs and off to the right, I find his suite and he pushes the heavy bags into my chest while he digs into his pocket for the key. He opens the door and it’s dark inside.
“Lou, what about Sam? We shouldn’t—”
“Oh, shut up, Harry. You’re going to thank me for this,” he laughs, taking the bags and slapping my back. Hard.
I stumble into the flat and the lights turn on, illuminating a room full of people.
“Surprise!” they shout loudly and happily.
I’m beyond thankful that Louis took the bags from my arms otherwise I would’ve dropped them to the floor from fright. I scan the room, spotting the other lads and their girlfriends. It’s not a huge group but it’s full of everyone I’ve loved and missed for so long.
“Told you so,” I hear Louis mumble as he comes beside me with a smug look on his face.
I laugh and walk inside to greet everyone, my near heart attack simmering down to just a little shock.
The place is decorated like it’s a party with crisps and other snacks everywhere. The bags Louis had brought turn out to be full of liters of fizzy drinks. Everyone’s here. Niall, Zayn, Perrie, everyone. Everyone you’ll meet soon. I take a good look at each of them before they hug me. It’s the first time I’ve seen some of them since we found out about you, and they’re all gazing at me with such pride that I’m getting nervous.
“Congrats, mate,” Zayn tells me with a pat on the back, “Baby’s gonna be lovely.”
“Yeah, Harry, do give Sam our love, yeah?” Perrie agrees as I kiss her cheek.
“I will,” I promise her.
Niall hugs me next and of course he’s eating already, crisp crumbs all over his hoodie.
“Who knew you’d be the first to be a father, eh? Is it a boy or girl?” he asks with a hopeful face.
“Dunno. Sam wants it to be a surprise,” I answer, much used to answering this question.
“Ah, but I know what you’re hoping for,” he laughs.
“Yeah,” I say, grinning, “Of course.”
He pats my back with a smile and suddenly I remember what I wanted to ask him.
“Where’s Liam?”
He shrugs. He doesn’t know.
I’m disappointed because I haven’t seen Liam for particularly long. Louis’s always around and Perrie reminds Zayn to Skype with us every other weekend. Even Niall comes down to visit sometimes. But Liam chose to stay living at home and Wolverhampton isn’t exactly nearby. Sam always misses him. It would’ve been nice to see him again.
“Picture time!” Louis comes skipping in with a camera and I make a mental note to thank him for this. For calling everybody together and planning this for me. For always being here for us, no matter what.
The party continues with lots of laughs and sharing of good memories. They even force me to dance. We have an amazing time and I feel glad I’ve come although it does feel like something’s missing.
The doorbell rings and Louis stands up on a chair. “Hey, everybody, shut it! I think it’s the pizza man,” he shouts.
We try to be silent and quietly scold Niall because if he hadn’t eaten all the food, we wouldn’t have needed to order pizza.
Louis makes his way to the door and opens it, revealing not a pizza man but someone much, much better.
“Finally!” Louis exclaims, “Took you long enough to get here, mate.”
Liam smiles. “Sorry, had to drive slow,” he says, “I had precious cargo, you see.”
He lifts his arm and from under it appears someone who makes me smile like no other can.
“Sam,” I sigh, spying your mother smiling at me beside Liam.
I walk towards her and hold her against me, closing my eyes at the feeling of relief building inside me from having her here. Louis must have planned Liam to pick her up from back home. Either way, I'm so happy she's here. When we separate, my gaze falls on Liam standing behind her and I hug him.
“Thanks for coming,” I whisper.
“I wouldn’t miss this,” he tells me with a smile, “Congratulations, man. No one deserves this more than you and Sam.”
I grin at him. The night is perfect. Everyone is here and everything is perfect, and I know I say it a lot…I really, really do. But I can’t wait for you to be here.
-----
You can lie with me,
With your tiny feet
When you’re half asleep,
I’ll leave you be.
Right in front of me
For a couple weeks
So I can keep you safe.
-----
Everyone stays in touch even more now. You’ve made everyone come together again. Even Liam is staying in town until you get here. Perrie threw you and your mum a baby shower. We’ve even been getting gifts in the mail from people we don’t know.
With Louis’s help, we finish the nursery and it’s all ready for you to arrive. It’s yellow and there are little ducks everywhere. Cute ones. Ducks on the wall, ducks on the mobile, ducks on the crib bumper. I really hope you like ducks otherwise Louis’s going to be quite upset.
I stay in there a lot. Just leaning against the wall, watching. Waiting. Sometimes I lose track of time and your mum comes looking for me. Then she leans against the wall with me and we look around. We don’t say anything. I picture you sleeping soundly in the crib. I picture you in your mother’s arms as she sings you a lullaby. I picture you on my lap on the rocking chair in the corner. And I know your mum’s thinking all the same things, but it’s different for her. It must be.
I place a kiss atop her head and feel her sigh.
“Soon, Harry,” she whispers, “Soon.”
-----
‘Cause you are my one and only.
You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight.
-----
They’re getting more common and more frequent. They happen sometimes in the middle of the night or while we’re having dinner or when we have company over. They happen more often with each passing week.
The cravings.
“Harry, please,” your mother pleads with me, “I know it’s cold outside but just this once. I promise I won’t ask again.”
She always says that.
I sigh and get up from the sofa. “You don’t need to beg me, love,” I remind her before kissing her softly and then kissing you over her jumper. She really doesn’t need to beg. It makes me happy to do this for her.
“You’re an angel,” she grins, “Remember extra cheese, okay? And jalapeños! And get three just in case Louis wants one as well.”
I laugh as I grab my keys and slip on my joggers. “I got it.”
I drive to the nearest pizza shop and the host sees me so often he expects me now.
“The usual?” he asks, amused.
I shake my head. “No, jalapeños this time. She’s feeling spicy.”
He chuckles loudly, nodding and placing my order. I wait for about fifteen minutes until it’s ready. I balance the three boxes on my arm and thank him before walking out.
Once in the car, with the pizza hot in the passenger seat, I feel my cell phone vibrate inside my pocket.
Ice cream too? Rocky road. Love u xxxxx -S
With a smile, I reply quickly, telling her I’ll pick it up.
After an hour of luckless trips to stores, I can’t find that one flavor she so desperately wants. And I can’t just settle on another one because I’ve made that mistake before and it wasn’t pretty. I’m parading the entire city on the lookout for this ice cream and I’d be worried for her being alone for so long if it weren’t for Louis keeping her company back at home. So my search continues.
I park my car in a lot and I’m about to walk into a Tesco before I get another vibration.
“Bet she wants chicken wings next,” I mutter to myself with a chuckle.
But when I pull out my phone from my jeans it’s a call rather than a message and it’s Louis rather than Sam.
“Hey, mate,” I answer, “Tell her I’m coming soon. I’m almost done. Can’t find the ice cream.”
“Harry, forget the ice cream,” he tells me.
“Has she changed her mind already? Must’ve set a world record for cravings, that one.”
“Harry, listen to me. There’s been an accident. Now don’t panic. I’m driving Sam to hospital right now but I’m sure she’s fine. Just…meet us there, yeah?”
The phone nearly slips from my fingers. “What? What accident? What’s happened?”
“Look, Harry, I’m driving right now so I can’t talk long but—“
“Is Sam okay? Where is she?”
“She’s here. She’s with me. Here, Sam. Sam! It’s Harry!”
“Harry,” I hear her sigh into the phone, her voice low, “Harry, I’m sorry. I can’t see it. I can’t.”
“Sam! Sam, listen to me. I’m coming, alright? I’m coming. I’ll be there soon. I promise.”
“Harry,” she sighs again. Her words are too slow and I’m panicking.
“Sam, stay with me! God, Sam!”
“I love you, Harry,” she whispers quietly before the line goes dead and suddenly I’m in horror mode. My heart is racing and I run back to the car, speeding my way to the hospital. Every horrible thought crosses my mind. Every last possible one. I think of you and I think of Sam and I can’t breathe.
I reach my destination and run inside. The halls are a blur and the smell is sickening. I lose my balance over my feet so many times, but I don’t care. I run as fast as I can, sprinting to the main desk and shouting your mother’s name.
Mind-boggling, impatient minutes pass before they understand what I’m saying and they lead me to a room where Louis sits outside the door.
“What happened? Louis!”
“Harry,” he rises from his seat and takes my shoulders in his hands, “Harry, it’s going to be okay. Calm down.”
“How the hell do you expect me to calm down if I don’t know what’s going on, Louis?” My voice is raised beyond a normal volume and people are staring at me.
“She fell down the stairs,” he tells me quietly all the while trying to calm me, “She was trying to get to the basement and she slipped. That’s all. She hit her head and started saying strange things, so I brought her here. She’s going to be fine. She’s safe now.”
I’m partially relieved that it wasn’t anything worse. Relieved that she could at least speak to me even though everything she was saying didn’t make much sense. Relieved that she wasn’t alone when it happened. But mostly relieved that all the awful scenarios I’d conjured in my head about what had happened didn’t really happen.
Louis guides me to take a seat beside him.
“They said we can see her soon,” he says.
I try to nod but I don’t think I really do. I wait with him for however long “soon” turns out to be. I think of how scared she must have been. How scared she must still be. I want to see her. Now. More than anything. And the fact that I can’t is driving me crazy.
Liam comes after the first hour passes and he brings Niall with him, but I don’t hear anything they say to me. They stay with me for as long as it takes.
Zayn and Perrie come along as well. I figure Louis must have told them. Perrie kneels down in front of me and takes my hands in hers. Her mascara is dripping down her cheeks in streams, but she’s smiling.
“She’ll be alright, Harry,” she tells me, “She’s a fighter. She’ll be fine.”
I nod and Zayn helps her up before also sitting down.
It’s a long, brutal, tiring wait. I think of the pizza getting cold in my car.
Before I know it, Louis’s shaking me with his hands, calling my name.
“Harry, we can see her now,” he tells me, “Didn’t you hear?”
“You all can go in, but be careful. She’s just waking up,” a doctor tells us and quickly I rise, a sense of urgency building inside me.
The others enter the room and before I can step my foot inside, my arm is grabbed to the side.
“A word, Mr. Styles? I promise it’ll be brief,” the doctor tells me.
I gulp. I should have expected this.
“Alright,” I nod.
“There was significant bruising to the brain,” he begins, “She fell quite far. But she’s alright. She’s conscious. She wasn’t for a while, which concerns me. But she should be fine. She’ll have a headache for a while, maybe some bleeding as time passes. We want to keep her here overnight to watch that.”
“And how is…”
He stares at me for a few moments before shaking his head. “We’re not sure. The child could have been affected when she hit the floor but it’s hard to tell especially since she’s barely in her third trimester. We’ll keep an eye on that as well. But chances are, it’s nothing to be worried about. It looks relatively good so far.”
I nod slowly, willing to accept this all as good news. Sam’s alive. You’re alive. That’s all I can ask for.
With a firm pat on the shoulder, he grants me entrance into the room and I finally see your mother. The others are seated around her, smiling as if someone’s just told a joke.
“There he is,” she sighs.
She sounds tired. She looks tired. There’s a thick plaster wrapped round her head and her face is flushed, but her eyes are the same. Those same big, beautiful hazel eyes. Your eyes.
I walk over to her and take her hand. Someone rises from their seat, giving it to me, and I try to smile at her.
“Hey, gorgeous,” I greet her, pressing my lips to her cold fingers. A tube is inserted into the inside of her wrist.
“Hey, handsome,” she responds.
I stare at her for a while, my heart swelling inside me because I’m so happy she’s well.
“I got your pizza,” I tell her.
She laughs and I can see tears in her eyes. “My hero.”
We all sit with her for a long time. No one leaves even during the late hours. We sleep in chairs with our jackets wrapped as blankets. Technically we’re breaking the visitor rules, but the staff makes an exception for (former) One Direction.
“Harry?” your mother calls for me in a whisper as my head rests on her bed. It’s late. I haven’t let go of her hand or moved the other one from atop you all night. And she hasn’t slept.
“Hmm?” I lift my head sleepily.
“Do you think it hurt?”
My eyebrows crease together and I think I’m just hearing things from grogginess.
“What hurt?” I ask.
“The fall.”
My fingers around hers tighten. “I imagine that it must’ve hurt. Didn’t it?”
She shakes her head. “Not me, Harry.”
Her eyes meet mine and I know what she means.
“Do you think it hurt him?” She looks down at you.
“I don’t know, love. I don’t know.”
She curls her lips inward and a tear escapes her eye.
“No, no, Sam,” I rush to cup her face and wipe away the wetness, “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”
“What if he’s hurt, Harry? What if I hurt him? He hates me now. He must hate me.”
“Shh, no, Sam. Don’t say that.”
“I can’t believe I let this happen. How did I let this happen? I shouldn’t have tried to go down those stupid stairs. God, Harry, I’m so sorry.”
She begins to sob uncontrollably and I climb into the bed to hold her. I can't care less about half my body over the edge, unable to fit. I stay with her, rocking her gently, for as long as it takes to bring her sleep. And finally, when she’s still, I kiss her forehead and lean back against the pillow.
I pray it didn’t hurt you.
I don’t know what I would do if it did.
-----
You are my one and only.
You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight.
And you’ll be alright.
-----
Your mother has to stay in the hospital for a few days longer than we anticipated because of some bleeding she had, but everything worked out. The doctors fixed her up, and today she’s well enough be released and we’re ready to go home.
Zayn, Perrie, and the others stayed with us the entire time, leaving sometimes during the day but always returning. My mum, dad, and Gemma even came down after the second day. I’m thankful for them. I don’t know what I’d do without them. And an hour never passes without a “thank you so much” muttered sweetly by Sam.
I’ve been packing her bag even though we don’t leave until tomorrow morning. I’m just eager. I hate hospitals. The lads are playing a card game with Sam on the table and Perrie’s braiding her hair. I’m happy because she’s smiling, even though sometimes I see sadness in it. Sometimes I see that smile falling when no one’s looking and it worries me.
“Do you have any sevens?” I hear Louis ask Niall.
“No, go fishing, Louis,” he answers with a smirk.
Louis groans. “You’re such a cheat, Niall!”
Everyone laughs and even I do as I fold one of Sam’s jumpers and place it in the bag.
“Hey, Harry?” Sam asks quietly and I meet her eyes, “You still have those pizzas?”
I chuckle. “I can get you some more the moment we get home.”
Her nose crinkles. “I’m not really feeling jalapeños anymore.”
I smirked at her. “Saw that coming.”
Before she can argue, one of the nurses comes in and smiles at us. I feel bad for her that she’s had to deal with this many loud, rambunctious people in one hospital room.
“Alright, everyone, one more check-up and she’s all yours,” she says.
Everybody groans at first but promptly puts down whatever they’re doing, gives Sam a kiss, and leaves the room. I do the same, lingering a bit more on her cheek.
She smiles up at me, but it’s weak and I want to know why.
“She’ll be done before you know it,” the nurse assures me.
I nod at her and walk out. I meet the others in the lobby a few rooms over and when I take a seat, my mind strays to a memory from a long time ago.
That little girl in the waiting room. The one who drew that picture of a sun for her father. I take that little girl and give her long, curly dark hair. I give her hazel eyes and dimples. I put her in my lap and feel that pride building up in my chest as I look down at her drawing. I take that little girl and protect her forever. Hold her and adore her and love her with everything I have because that little girl is you, and you are my life.
I can’t wait to see you.
An hour passes and I think it’s been too long. Your mother’s little check-ups are usually short with vision tests and re-plastering and things of that sort. So I make my way back to the room and find her alone.
She’s standing over near the far wall by the window. Her back is turned, just like it was the day we found out about you. The happiest day of our lives.
“Sam?” I call out to her. She’s dressed in her normal clothes and I get excited because things are almost back to normal. “Are you finished?”
She’s quiet for a few seconds before she turns slowly, staring first at the floor beneath my feet and then up to my face.
“He’s—"
Her own gasp interrupts her words and suddenly she’s breathing heavily, clutching at her chest.
“He’s gone,” she chokes, “He’s gone, Harry.”
I watch as she suddenly collapses to the cold hospital floor, her face morphed into one of pure agony. She starts wailing, shaking hysterically.
“Gone!” she keeps repeating, over and over again, scraping her nails against the sides of her head.
Finally I feel the slightest bit of movement in my feet and I cross the room to her, falling down beside her and taking her in my arms.
“I knew it!” she cries, “I knew it! I knew he was gone! I couldn’t feel him anymore. I couldn’t—It’s my fault! Oh, God, it’s all my fault!”
She’s screaming and writhing in my arms, her shrieks so loud that my heart is breaking listening to them. The same nurse approaches us and tears your mother from me, grumbling something about how I'm not supposed to be in here and that she needs to calm down. Another pushes me out toward the others who've formed a small crowd in the doorway, each of them watching in horror.
Sam keeps sobbing, holding her still bulging belly in her hands as the nurses lift her off the floor.
“He’s dead, Harry! I killed him! Dead inside me!”
Someone, Louis or Zayn, grabs me and pulls me out of your mother’s view. I’m suddenly nauseous, my muscles trembling and eyes failing me as they fill with tears that I had been too in shock to produce before.
Perrie’s face is in her hands as she sits on the chair outside the door. Someone else is saying something to me but I can’t hear it. I can’t hear a thing but Sam’s screaming. Her door is slammed shut and I’m in agony.
Why is this happening?
I’m positioned on a chair in the waiting room and everyone stays with me but I might as well be alone. I feel alone. Without you, I am alone.
The past few minutes have gone by so quickly and I finally take in the entirety of them. It finally hits me.
I see that little girl with the sun drawing running around me. Running toward me. Ready to be scooped up into my arms and held against me.
I see your yellow nursery with all the ducks that will never be slept in and the bulletin board on the wall that will never be filled with other suns or houses or flowers.
And then I see Sam’s fake smile. Sam’s lifeless eyes. Sam’s face in absolute misery as she pulls angrily at her hair on that floor.
The little girl fades. All of it fades. You fade.
“They said it was all okay,” I hear my voice speaking but I can’t feel it happening.
The others approach me because it’s the first time I’ve said a word in hours.
“They said it was all okay,” I hear myself repeat, “That she’d be fine. That it was normal. Nothing to worry about.”
“Harry—" someone begins and I feel hands on me.
“They said this wouldn’t happen! This wasn’t supposed to happen!”
“It’s alright, Harry, just—“
“NO!” I shout so loud, my throat stings, “No! It’s not alright! This can’t be happening!” I stand and start pacing around. “Fuck! She’s gone!”
I turn to a wall and punch it, my knuckles bursting with a pain that's nothing compared to what I'm feeling inside.
“Come on, mate.” Someone clutches my arm and starts pulling me somewhere. It’s suddenly cold and nobody’s around. I figure they must have brought me here to keep me from bothering people. To let me grieve alone.
I scream. I cry out for you. I fall to my knees and hit the floor beneath me to cause a pain strong enough that will wake me up from this nightmare.
I was supposed to protect you. I was supposed to keep you safe always. And I couldn’t.
I’m so sorry, Janie. I failed you.
A bit of unbearably painful time passes but I don’t know how long I’ve been on this floor, sitting against the cold wall. I can’t form words anymore. I can’t even cry anymore. You’re gone and I’ve gone numb.
But I can hear the voices around me sounding distant but nonetheless there. It’s mostly Liam’s. I realize now that Louis hasn’t said a single word.
“Harry, I’m here,” Liam tells me. His voice sounds nearer than the others have been sounding and I can feel someone touching my arm, so it must be him.
“I’m here for you, Harry,” he says, “We all are. You’re not alone.”
Minutes, hours, maybe even days pass and I don’t know the difference. It’s all a blur and I feel empty without you. But for the first time, something that worries me beyond all repair crosses my mind. Something that hadn’t come to me early enough and makes me feel guilty that it hadn’t.
“Sam,” I say, “How is Sam?”
The others flock closer to me and I figure they must be surprised I’m speaking without shouting at unbearable volume. If I’m honest, I would be shouting if my throat didn’t ache so much.
“W-we don’t know, Harry,” Niall answers, “They just told us they had to…”
“Shut it,” someone scolds him.
“Had to what?” I ask.
“Nothing, Harry,” says Liam, “Sam is alright. She’s with the doctor.”
“I need to see her.” I rise from the floor and try to keep my balance steady.
“You can’t, Harry,” a softer voice says from a few feet away and I turn to find its origin.
It’s Perrie and she’s sitting beside Gemma and my mum. They’re each crying, Gemma’s hands tightly intertwined with Perrie’s.
“I tried to. They won’t let you yet,” she finishes.
I look over at my mum and she stands. She approaches me and the look in her eyes hurts. It hurts because it’s that same look she gave me when I first told her about you, except now it’s darker. Now it’s dying and it’s miserable and it hurts.
“Harry, it’s okay,” she says, cupping my face in her hands just like she did in the kitchen that day I told her about how I was scared. “It’s okay to cry, Harry.”
My eyes are stinging again and my head falls to her shoulder.
“It’s not your fault. It’s not Sam’s fault. Shh.”
She comforts me by rubbing my back.
“My grandchild was just needed a bit more up there than down here, love.”
I cry harder, clutching at her blouse.
“Right now, you need to be strong,” she tells me, “Strong for me. Strong for all of us. But most of all, strong for Sam. That wonderful girl behind that door who loves you with everything she has and needs you now more than ever, Harry.”
She’s right. Your mother does need me. If I’m this much of a hopeless mess right now, I can’t imagine how she is. The one who’s carried you since day one and who’s shared a special bond with you that I'll never have the honor of keeping.
“I will, Mum,” I vow, “I’ll be strong.”
She lets me go after kissing my cheeks and I see her wipe her own tears away with a tissue that looks like it’s well worn out by now. I nod. I thank everyone for being here with me. I tell them I need some time alone, so I go back to the now empty lobby and take a seat, sitting forward with my elbows on my knees, trying desperately to clear my head before I see her.
When I finally can see her, I’m afraid. Seeing her again would make this all real. It would mean that all of this did actually happen and she’s only still pregnant in my memory.
But I decide we’ll face that reality together.
I walk in and she’s lying in the bed. She’s dressed in a hospital gown once again. I take in the rest of her appearance in steps because I know the last part will threaten to bring back the mess of myself that I’d just put back together. She’s covered in a blanket that reaches below her chest, but it doesn’t hide the inevitable detail that I’ve been dreading to see.
Her abdomen is flat.
Where her hands used to constantly be, holding and staying close to you, she doesn’t dare touch. Her arms stay stiffly at her side.
The braid Perrie did for her has become a muddled knot, strands of blonde framing her head in disarray from where her hands had pulled at it.
Her face is what does it for me. She’s staring across the room at the wall opposite her. Staring at what exactly, I don’t know, but the look in her eyes tells me that whatever she sees is torturing her.
I walk over to the side of her bed and sit down in the same seat that I’d sat in just a few days ago. Back when I thought everything was okay. Back when you were still here and Sam still had life left in those hazel eyes.
Her hand is ice cold when I take it.
We sit there in that room for what feels like forever, silent, neither one of us able to say a thing to each other. The pain we feel is everywhere. This is the last thing we thought would ever happen.
“I’m sorry.”
Her voice is so low, I can barely hear it. It’s lower than a whisper and sadder than anything I’ve ever heard in my life. I turn to her.
“You have no reason to be,” I say.
Tears begin to well and she tightens her grip on my hand.
“It was a girl, Harry.”
My stomach falls inside me and I can’t stop the crying now. We were so close to having you. So ready for you. Why this had to happen, we don’t know why. We will never know why.
“Harry, my heart is broken,” your mother cries.
I stand and hover over here, pressing my forehead to hers and my hands against each side of her face.
“I’ll fix it,” I promise her, “We’ll fix this. We’ll get through it. Together.”
We’ll never know why you had to leave us so soon. Why fate decided that it wasn’t time yet for us to be together. We miss you. We love you. We will always love you. We’ll see you again soon.
You were just a small bump unborn for four months then torn from life.
Maybe you were needed up there but we’re still unaware as why.
I can’t help but smile as she sets down her yellow crayon and stretches her lips into a contagious grin. Her fingers grasp the paper and she rises, skipping over to the man sitting a few seats over. She shows him her drawing and I see it’s of the sun.
The man’s face lights up with pride. He’s her father. I don’t know directly but some things you can just tell. He praises her for her masterpiece and his smile only grows as she says she’s made it for him.
“Mr. Styles?”
I turn my head reluctantly away from the little girl and come face-to-face with the nurse who had sent me here to wait minutes ago.
“You can come on back now,” she tells me.
I don’t want to search her face for a sign. I’m too anxious. Any hint of a smile or glimmer of pity would ruin it. So I keep my head down when I nod and rise to follow her.
I fight the nerves building in the pit of my stomach as I walk down the hall. Whatever news awaits me at the end of it scares me, but not for the reason I expect.
The door on the left is open wide, but I knock on it anyway.
“Sam?” I call out.
“Over here.”
Her voice is too quiet and suddenly I’m worried. My eyes scan the room and I find her standing over one of the chairs against the far wall. She’s looking into her bag and I’m not sure what for because her back is turned. Maybe her phone.
I hear a few sniffles and see her hands pause, one of them reaching up to her face as if to wipe away a tear. My body reacts before my mind does and suddenly I’m behind her, reaching for her, knowing she needs me right now.
“It’s okay, Sam,” I assure her, almost certain that her tears mean what they think I mean, “We can try again.”
She shakes her head and turns to meet my eyes before my arms can wrap around her waist.
“No, Harry,” she whispers and she’s shaking her head. Her hazel eyes meet mine. She looks tired. We’ve both looked tired for days.
But then she’s smiling, and I know what that smile means.
My heart does a somersault and I can’t form the words to ask her just yet, so she reads the question from my eyes instead.
“Yes,” she nods, smiling even wider and cupping my face. Her hands are softer than ever.
My eyes are burning now because I’ve wanted this so badly. I welcome the tears and they stream down my face. Sam pushes stray curls away. I’m in shock for a moment and none of my muscles seem to be working. My breath hitches. The tears are coming even faster now. I’m a happy mess.
And then the entirety of it all hits me, and I kiss her. I kiss her to tell her I love her, to tell her I’m happy, and to thank her for giving me this gift.
This gift of our own child, finally.
This gift of you.
-----
You’re just a small bump unborn,
In four months you’re brought to life.
Might be left with my hair, but you’ll have your mother’s eyes.
-----
It’s been weeks and I still can’t stop looking at your mother. As if it were even possible for her to look any more beautiful, she glows brighter each day with the more time she spends with you. She smiles more and that makes me smile more as well. She’s just happy and you’re to thank for that, Janie.
“Why Janie?” she asks me one day as I’m preparing her tea. Her nose is crinkled in confusion, but I can tell she’s amused by the name I’ve already picked out for you, “That’s a bit girly. What if it’s a boy?”
I smile at her and lift her onto one of the countertops so she doesn’t have to crane her neck as much to look at me.
“If it’s a boy, we’ll think of something else,” I answer, “But Janie after her beautiful mum.”
She rolls her eyes but can’t avoid my cheeky grin. “Just her mum’s middle name, which is Jane anyway. Not Janie.”
“Oh, my apologies, Samantha Jane,” I mock.
She covers my face with her hand and tries to push, but after I threaten to lick her she laughs before giving up her attempt.
“Okay, fine. But since that’s what we’re playing at, if it’s a boy, we’re going with Edward.”
I shoot her a disbelieving look and she’s just smirking at me.
“Oh, come on, Sam—”
My protest is interrupted by the kettle going off and I’m called to action. I let her remark fly. For now. I brew the tea for a bit in her favorite snowflake mug before adding sweetener and just a bit of lemon.
“Mm, thank you,” she hums as I place it in her hand. Her eyes are closed as the steam tickles her face, and when she opens them she’s looking right at me.
“What?” she asks me, still smirking.
I don’t say a word. I stare at her flawless complexion, her skin tinted with a beautiful blush. She’s forgotten to cover the soft freckles on her cheeks with makeup this morning, but I’m glad of that. I love them. My hand travels up to tuck her hair behind her ear and I can’t wait for you to see how beautiful she is.
“You have that look on your face again,” she tells me.
“What look?”
Her lips curl into a sweet smile. “You know, that look.” She tries to hide her face because she’s feeling shy. “It’s that same look you gave me when you first told me you loved me. And the same look when you gave me this.”
She wiggles one of her fingers on her left hand, the one dressed in a diamond ring I’d picked out just for her some years ago.
When I’m too in awe from the memory to reply immediately, she looks at me again. Her beautiful hazel irises are sparkling and I have to remind myself to keep breathing as I stare at the beauty that is your mother.
“I just hope Janie has your eyes,” I tell her quietly, placing a kiss on the tip of her nose.
“And I hope Edward has your hair.” She playfully musses the curls I was too lazy to properly style this morning.
I chuckle, placing another tiny kiss on those freckles. “Drink your tea, mummy-to-be.”
-----
I’ll hold your body in my hands,
Be as gentle as I can,
But for now you’re a scan of my unmade plans,
A small bump in four months, you’re brought to life.
I’ll whisper quietly and give you nothing but truth,
If you’re not inside me, I’ll put my future in you.
-----
I spend a lot of time thinking about what you might look like, and ever since that conversation with your mother that visual of you we conjured up together has stuck in my mind. My hair and her eyes. Thick, brown curls and gorgeous hazel eyes. With insanely soft skin and a smile to die for. That’s how I see you.
For months now, you’ve been the only thing I’ve dreamt about. Dreams that used to be about your mother have become dreams about the both of you. My entire world now embodied into two beautiful people. Everything I could have ever wanted in my life and more.
The time I spend with you in those dreams is always precious. I’m entirely happy not only when I’m awake but when I’m asleep, too. With you. I imagine looking into your eyes for the first time and holding you against me, so tiny that the width of your little body fits in my hand.
But last night, my dream was more like a nightmare. A scary one. I saw you being pulled from me, exploited and soiled by the life I used to live. The mobbing crowds and flashing cameras ruining all the innocence that lies in your heart. I shout and yell and beg for them to leave you alone, but nothing works, and you're gone.
I wake up in a cold sweat and reach over to the left side of the bed.
“Harry, are you alright?” I hear when my fingers touch skin.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine, Sam.”
I place my hand over her belly, over you, and feel safer. She’s not that big and it hasn’t been long enough for us to feel you just yet, but it never stops me. I focus my hand on the warmth of her skin, imagining yours feeling the same, and vow that I’ll always keep you safe. I can’t let that dream come true.
I don’t sleep another wink that night.
In the morning I’m suddenly more thankful that my mum is coming over today, which she’s done on a regular basis since the wedding and especially more often since we found out about you. She’s beautiful and she’s your grandmother, but I can’t quite call her that just yet. (She won’t let me.)
She brings your Aunt Gemma along with her this time, which I’m happy about as well because it means your mum will get someone to watch girly films with. I’m just no good at that stuff although I try.
I sit on the sofa as Sam shows Mum and Gemma all the new furniture she’s put in the living room. Sam loves to decorate the house. With all the money we had leftover from the music, I told her she didn’t need to worry about that stuff. We could just hire an interior decorator. But she wouldn’t let me. She loved it too much. And I’m glad I listened to her because now our place is lovely, and you’ll see it soon.
“And this painting I got from an antique shop,” she says proudly, pointing to it, “For only 12 pounds. Can you imagine?”
“Beautiful, Sam,” my sister grins before her eyes land on something else on the wall that I haven’t yet asked about either, “What’s this?”
It’s a plain brown rectangular panel and it looks quite out of place among the other elegant looking pieces of artwork she’s picked out and situated around it.
“It’s a bulletin board,” she answers Gemma with a smile, “It’s probably a bit too early for it…But I thought the little one would need a place to put his drawings once he learns.” She taps you gently and I can almost see a blush on her cheeks.
My heart warms at her gesture and I smile.
“His? So you’ve found out the gender, then?” my mum asks excitedly, looking to me.
“No, Mum. Sam wants it to be a surprise.”
They go on for a while about some other paintings and the plants beside the table. I feel out of place, but it doesn’t bother me much. What bothers me at that moment is that my mind begins to wander back to the dream I had. The one about you. I zone out, reliving it in my head, and it’s almost like what’s going on around me stops and all I can see is you being taken from me again. I can feel my palms begin to sweat and my eyebrows begin to crease together. There’s an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach and it only gets stronger the more I think about that bulletin board being filled with paparazzi pictures and disturbing newspaper clippings.
“Haz? Hello? Harry?”
Gemma’s talking to me suddenly and I’m brought back to life.
“You alright, Haz? Left us for a bit there,” she laughs, ruffling my hair with her hand, “Be a dear and get us some snacks? We’re going to watch The Holiday.”
“Yeah. Yeah, alright,” I respond. I rise and make my way to the kitchen, avoiding looking at the bulletin board.
I start arranging biscuits in a circular pattern on a plate, perhaps taking a bit too long with my hands shaking. The nerves are building inside me the more I think about that awful dream. I bring a hand to my forehead to ease the headache when my mum walks in and I stop, trying to seem normal. She doesn’t need to worry about this.
“Sam’s looking gorgeous, as always,” she tells me once she comes over beside me and leans against the counter. I know she’s looking all around the kitchen. It’s even more decorative than the sitting room.
“Yeah, she is,” I try to smile.
“And how are you?” my mum asks. I don’t ignore the shift in her tone of voice.
“I’m alright,” I tell her, looking up at her briefly before turning my attention back to the biscuits.
“You look tired. Have you been sleeping enough?”
I remember how much she used to ask me that over Skype when I was on tour all those years ago. A few things have changed since then.
“Yes, Mum. I’m fine.”
It’s quiet for a few moments before she places a hand on one of mine, stopping my fingers from shaking.
“Harry, look at me.”
My eyes meet hers and she looks concerned. She pushes some hair away from my face and cups my cheeks like she used to when I was small. Suddenly I feel like a child again and I want to cry, but I can’t let her see that. So I let my head fall onto her shoulder and I feel her arms wrap around my waist.
“Shh, it’s okay, love. It’s alright.”
“I’m…I don’t know if I can do this,” I mumble into her blouse, “Sam would have a much easier time if she was with someone else.”
“Now why would you say a ridiculous thing like that?” she asks, her hand patting the back of my head, “Sam loves you, Harry.”
“It hasn’t been as crazy now, that’s true. We can actually go places without being mobbed. But after this, no way. The first One Direction child. Janie—I mean, the baby—will never have a normal life, Mum. We’ll never be a normal family.”
A light laugh escapes her and I can feel it against my chest.
“When have you ever wanted to be normal?”
She positions her hands at my shoulders and pushes me backward so that she can see my face even though that’s the last thing I want.
“For the first time since we found out, Mum…I’m scared.”
She cups my face again.
“Harry, that baby is going to have an gorgeous family with two lovely parents,” she says, “I promise you that. Besides, you had to grow up with a life in the spotlight and you turned out just fine.”
She smiles warmly at me before kissing my cheek and offering to help me with the rest of the biscuits. I try to smile back because I know she’s right. As long as Sam and I are there to protect you, you’ll be okay.
I try to put that life of paps and cameras and screaming crowds to rest. Even though I know I’ll never fully escape it, I can try. Because I can’t worry about the past anymore. I have to look toward my future, and my future is you.
-----
You are my one and only.
You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight.
Oh, you are my one and only.
You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight.
And you’ll be alright.
-----
I can’t believe how quickly you’re growing, Janie. It’s only been a few months and your mother is still radiating with that glow that only you can give her. Every night before bed, we lie together and I always look over at the crib in the corner, picturing you there with us, perfecting our family. Your mum spent ages looking for that crib despite Gemma and everyone else telling her it’s too early. But she was just too excited. She found the perfect one and had to buy it even though we don’t have the nursery yet. She does so much for you.
I know I say it a lot, but I just can’t wait for you to meet her.
Tonight is just like any other night except a bit less relaxing. Your mother hasn’t been feeling well all day. She told me it was morning sickness but more like “all-day sickness.” Either way, she’s been uncomfortable and I feel helpless because no matter what I do, nothing helps.
“Don’t worry about it,” she tells me, laying her head back against the headboard, “I’ll be alright soon. My mum was like this too.”
Her tired eyes are staring up at the ceiling and I know she feels weak. She hasn’t been able to keep any food down all day.
“I will worry about it, Sam.”
“Why? There’s nothing you can do!” she snaps, her voice raising as she turns her head sharply to glare at me, “So stop asking!”
I stare back at her apprehensively, waiting for the real Sam to return, and she doesn’t let me down.
“Oh,” she says as her face begins to soften, “I didn’t mean to snap at you like that.” She scoots her body closer to mine and I open my arms to welcome her. “I’m sorry. I’m going mental is all.”
I kiss the top of her head. “It’s okay.”
One of my hands instinctively reaches for you over the hem of your mother’s nightshirt like it usually does before bed. I don’t think it ever leaves throughout the night either. I just have to be close to you. I have to protect you.
We lie like that for a while and I’m worried. Lately I’m always worried. This time I’m worried for your mum. Yesterday I was worried about changing diapers. Tomorrow I’ll probably be worried about feeding you. Sometimes I even worry about buying you your first phone or hugging you after your first breakup or walking you down the aisle. I’m sure I’ve covered everything there is to be worried about when it comes to fatherhood, but now I’m worried that there’s more to worry about that I’m missing.
In the midst of my accelerating heart rate and racing thoughts, I feel something against my hand and pause the constant worries.
“Did you feel that?” I ask, looking down at your mother whose eyes are closed.
“What?”
“I just felt something against my hand.”
She opens her eyes and pouts. “I’ve had an upset stomach all day, alright? No need to tease, Harry. God.”
I can barely hear her as my total attention is diverted to where my hand is.
“There it is again,” I mumble, removing my arm from around her shoulders and resting both of my hands on her abdomen.
“Harry, seriously, you’re embarrassing me. Quit.”
I feel the movement against my palm once more and this time, it’s stronger. There’s no denying what it is. Even Sam’s eyes suddenly widen as she sits up and adds her hands beside mine.
A few more of your kicks greet us and they’re gentle. Almost unnoticeable if we weren’t paying so close attention because you’re tiny still.
“Oh, my God, Haz…” your mother sighs.
The feeling is extraordinary and for a moment, I’m speechless. To know that you’re actually inside there, that you’re moving and you’re healthy and lively makes my eyes sting and I don’t know how to react. Thoughts of the future erupt in a montage in my mind, and I’m seeing you in my arms, gripping onto my thumb with your tiny fingers, your tiny fist tapping against my palm, you smiling up at me with a toothless grin, wrapped in a baby pink blanket and a white bonnet to keep you warm.
“Haz, he’s moving. He’s actually moving! Oh, God, I can’t believe this is—ow. Oh, ouch.”
I hear a sharp intake of breath come from your mother’s lips as she lets out a little squirm. I want to ask her what’s wrong but I can’t form words.
She giggles. “He has a strong kick, this one. I know he doesn’t get that from his father.”
I look up to see her smirking at me, amused at her joke that was likely true since I’m pretty terrible at football. I want to counter her, but my voice is suddenly gone.
Her face morphs into one of awe as she cups my face in her soft hands.
“Harry, you’re crying,” she whispers. I don’t realize my face is wet until she starts wiping away tears with her fingertips.
I sniffle and try to smile.
“Oh, Harry,” she grins before kissing me.
My forehead rests against hers and I think she’s crying too.
“I’m so happy, Sam,” I tell her thickly.
And I really, truly, completely am.
-----
You’re just a small bump unknown,
You’ll grow into your skin.
With a smile like hers
And a dimple beneath your chin.
Fingernails the size of a half grain of rice,
And eyelids closed to be soon opened wide.
A small bump, in four months you’ll open your eyes.
-----
“Harry, I’m nervous.”
I can’t lie, I’m nervous too. Especially right now. My eyes meet your mum’s face. She’s staring up at the ceiling with her hands embracing you over the fabric of her gown.
“But I’m excited at the same time,” she laughs lightly, “You know?”
She looks at me hopefully and I nod, reaching for hand. “I know, Sam.”
We’ve been waiting in here for just a few minutes. We should be used to this kind of waiting. We experience it with every doctor’s appointment. But it never gets any easier. And this is a little different.
A woman, I think she’s a nurse, comes into the room and greets us politely. She takes a seat on the other side of the bed and lifts the hem of your mother’s gown to expose her stomach. She mutters about something being cold and then spreads some weird clear-colored liquid on. Your mum flinches a bit and I tighten my grip on her hand.
“It’s alright,” she laughs.
The nurse takes some device and presses it to the skin, turning on a monitor and moving around. She makes small talk, but I don’t pay much attention. My heart is pounding from within my chest.
“Are you okay?” I ask your mum instinctively.
She nods. “I’m okay, Harry. Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I laugh, “I’m good.”
“Well you’re about to get a little bit better,” I hear the nurse say, “Baby looks healthy. Very healthy, actually.”
Your mum and I find the monitor and my stomach drops.
There you are.
“Oh, God, Harry. Look,” Sam sighs, “Look at the head. And the fingers.”
I’m not blinking. I can’t spare a millisecond I could spend looking at you. I’m in shock, unable to fully comprehend how you, so tiny and so fragile, are real. Real and just a few months away from making your grand entrance. Real and right here inside Sam.
Real and mine.
“She’s beautiful,” I whisper.
“Oh, don’t tell us the gender, please,” your mum quickly warns the nurse, “Please.”
“I won’t. Cross my heart, Mrs. Styles.”
I can hear them talking, but I can’t see them anymore. All I see is you. All I can picture is you. Your fingers are so small. Everything about you is so small. I can’t wait to hold you and keep you safe. Keep you protected until you’re big enough. Keep you with us while you grow. I can’t wait to see those big beautiful hazel eyes open and meet mine for the first time.
I can’t wait for you.
I already love you.
-----
I’ll hold you tightly and tell you nothing but truth.
If you’re not inside me, I’ll put my future in you.
You are my one and only.
You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight.
Oh, you are my one and only.
You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight.
And you’ll be alright.
-----
Today Louis is coming over. I’m not quite sure what to call him for you. Uncle Louis? I guess that’s about right. There are a lot of things I can say about him but I think one thing is the most important.
After your mum, Louis is my best friend.
He’s been around constantly since we found out about you. He’s even helping with the nursery decorations. It’s nice having him around. It keeps me grounded and level-headed, especially since that dream.
When he arrives, he hugs your mum before he hugs me. He adores her. Thinks she’s amazing. And he couldn’t be more right.
“You’re looking lovely, Sam,” he says, kissing her cheek.
“Oh, thank you, Louis,” she smiles.
“And so are you, mate. As gorgeous as ever.” He ruffles my hair and hugs me just like old times. I laugh. Same old Louis.
“Come in, Lou. We have leftover casserole from when Harry’s mum came over the other day. Stay for dinner,” your mum says.
Louis bites his lip. “I’d love to, beautiful, but do you mind if I steal Hazza for a bit? I promise we’ll be back before dinner.”
I look at him confusedly, but I’m not really surprised. You have to expect surprises with Uncle Louis. You’ll learn that once you meet him.
Your mum eyes me with a smile.
“Sure, Louis,” she says, “He needs a break.”
I lean down to kiss her lips, not liking the fact that I’m leaving her alone.
“I’ll be home soon,” I promise, pressing another kiss to her forehead and grabbing a jacket before heading out with Lou. She waves from the doorway and I hope she’ll be alright by herself.
“Where are we off to?” I ask once we’re in the car.
“My place,” he answers, “Don’t worry, Sam will be fine.”
“Your place? Then why’d you ask if you could come over? I would’ve just met you there.”
“I wanted to see her, of course. Silly.”
I nod. “She was pretty excited to see you.”
“Because I’m charming,” he brags, “But she was right. You do need a break. You look like shit.”
I roll my eyes because I don’t look that bad.
“You told me I look lovely.”
Lou laughs. “I lied.”
We drive to his place and for a moment I feel odd. He has the same car and same flat he’s always had. He even looks the same. He is the same. But I know I’m not. You’ve changed me and so has Sam. I think of her and in honesty I’d like to go back home to her. As much as I enjoy spending time with Louis, getting drunk and eating pizza isn’t my idea of a good time anymore. I’ve grown up. I’ve gone through that phase. Now, I’m perfectly happy spending my evening with you and your mum, making endless cups of tea and massaging her back by the fireplace.
“Come on,” Lou encourages me once I step out of his car and shut the door. He’s holding brown bags in his arms and I can only imagine the amount of liquor and junk food he’s bought.
“Louis, I don’t think we should—”
Before I can finish my sentence, he’s walked away from me and I have no choice but to follow. He strides down the path towards his flat building door and swings it open, beckoning me inside.
“You remember which one it is,” he says with raised eyebrows.
“Yes, but I don’t think we should do this, Lou. I can’t—"
“Will you just go, Haz? Trust me. You need this.”
I groan and follow his directions. Up the many flights of stairs and off to the right, I find his suite and he pushes the heavy bags into my chest while he digs into his pocket for the key. He opens the door and it’s dark inside.
“Lou, what about Sam? We shouldn’t—”
“Oh, shut up, Harry. You’re going to thank me for this,” he laughs, taking the bags and slapping my back. Hard.
I stumble into the flat and the lights turn on, illuminating a room full of people.
“Surprise!” they shout loudly and happily.
I’m beyond thankful that Louis took the bags from my arms otherwise I would’ve dropped them to the floor from fright. I scan the room, spotting the other lads and their girlfriends. It’s not a huge group but it’s full of everyone I’ve loved and missed for so long.
“Told you so,” I hear Louis mumble as he comes beside me with a smug look on his face.
I laugh and walk inside to greet everyone, my near heart attack simmering down to just a little shock.
The place is decorated like it’s a party with crisps and other snacks everywhere. The bags Louis had brought turn out to be full of liters of fizzy drinks. Everyone’s here. Niall, Zayn, Perrie, everyone. Everyone you’ll meet soon. I take a good look at each of them before they hug me. It’s the first time I’ve seen some of them since we found out about you, and they’re all gazing at me with such pride that I’m getting nervous.
“Congrats, mate,” Zayn tells me with a pat on the back, “Baby’s gonna be lovely.”
“Yeah, Harry, do give Sam our love, yeah?” Perrie agrees as I kiss her cheek.
“I will,” I promise her.
Niall hugs me next and of course he’s eating already, crisp crumbs all over his hoodie.
“Who knew you’d be the first to be a father, eh? Is it a boy or girl?” he asks with a hopeful face.
“Dunno. Sam wants it to be a surprise,” I answer, much used to answering this question.
“Ah, but I know what you’re hoping for,” he laughs.
“Yeah,” I say, grinning, “Of course.”
He pats my back with a smile and suddenly I remember what I wanted to ask him.
“Where’s Liam?”
He shrugs. He doesn’t know.
I’m disappointed because I haven’t seen Liam for particularly long. Louis’s always around and Perrie reminds Zayn to Skype with us every other weekend. Even Niall comes down to visit sometimes. But Liam chose to stay living at home and Wolverhampton isn’t exactly nearby. Sam always misses him. It would’ve been nice to see him again.
“Picture time!” Louis comes skipping in with a camera and I make a mental note to thank him for this. For calling everybody together and planning this for me. For always being here for us, no matter what.
The party continues with lots of laughs and sharing of good memories. They even force me to dance. We have an amazing time and I feel glad I’ve come although it does feel like something’s missing.
The doorbell rings and Louis stands up on a chair. “Hey, everybody, shut it! I think it’s the pizza man,” he shouts.
We try to be silent and quietly scold Niall because if he hadn’t eaten all the food, we wouldn’t have needed to order pizza.
Louis makes his way to the door and opens it, revealing not a pizza man but someone much, much better.
“Finally!” Louis exclaims, “Took you long enough to get here, mate.”
Liam smiles. “Sorry, had to drive slow,” he says, “I had precious cargo, you see.”
He lifts his arm and from under it appears someone who makes me smile like no other can.
“Sam,” I sigh, spying your mother smiling at me beside Liam.
I walk towards her and hold her against me, closing my eyes at the feeling of relief building inside me from having her here. Louis must have planned Liam to pick her up from back home. Either way, I'm so happy she's here. When we separate, my gaze falls on Liam standing behind her and I hug him.
“Thanks for coming,” I whisper.
“I wouldn’t miss this,” he tells me with a smile, “Congratulations, man. No one deserves this more than you and Sam.”
I grin at him. The night is perfect. Everyone is here and everything is perfect, and I know I say it a lot…I really, really do. But I can’t wait for you to be here.
-----
You can lie with me,
With your tiny feet
When you’re half asleep,
I’ll leave you be.
Right in front of me
For a couple weeks
So I can keep you safe.
-----
Everyone stays in touch even more now. You’ve made everyone come together again. Even Liam is staying in town until you get here. Perrie threw you and your mum a baby shower. We’ve even been getting gifts in the mail from people we don’t know.
With Louis’s help, we finish the nursery and it’s all ready for you to arrive. It’s yellow and there are little ducks everywhere. Cute ones. Ducks on the wall, ducks on the mobile, ducks on the crib bumper. I really hope you like ducks otherwise Louis’s going to be quite upset.
I stay in there a lot. Just leaning against the wall, watching. Waiting. Sometimes I lose track of time and your mum comes looking for me. Then she leans against the wall with me and we look around. We don’t say anything. I picture you sleeping soundly in the crib. I picture you in your mother’s arms as she sings you a lullaby. I picture you on my lap on the rocking chair in the corner. And I know your mum’s thinking all the same things, but it’s different for her. It must be.
I place a kiss atop her head and feel her sigh.
“Soon, Harry,” she whispers, “Soon.”
-----
‘Cause you are my one and only.
You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight.
-----
They’re getting more common and more frequent. They happen sometimes in the middle of the night or while we’re having dinner or when we have company over. They happen more often with each passing week.
The cravings.
“Harry, please,” your mother pleads with me, “I know it’s cold outside but just this once. I promise I won’t ask again.”
She always says that.
I sigh and get up from the sofa. “You don’t need to beg me, love,” I remind her before kissing her softly and then kissing you over her jumper. She really doesn’t need to beg. It makes me happy to do this for her.
“You’re an angel,” she grins, “Remember extra cheese, okay? And jalapeños! And get three just in case Louis wants one as well.”
I laugh as I grab my keys and slip on my joggers. “I got it.”
I drive to the nearest pizza shop and the host sees me so often he expects me now.
“The usual?” he asks, amused.
I shake my head. “No, jalapeños this time. She’s feeling spicy.”
He chuckles loudly, nodding and placing my order. I wait for about fifteen minutes until it’s ready. I balance the three boxes on my arm and thank him before walking out.
Once in the car, with the pizza hot in the passenger seat, I feel my cell phone vibrate inside my pocket.
Ice cream too? Rocky road. Love u xxxxx -S
With a smile, I reply quickly, telling her I’ll pick it up.
After an hour of luckless trips to stores, I can’t find that one flavor she so desperately wants. And I can’t just settle on another one because I’ve made that mistake before and it wasn’t pretty. I’m parading the entire city on the lookout for this ice cream and I’d be worried for her being alone for so long if it weren’t for Louis keeping her company back at home. So my search continues.
I park my car in a lot and I’m about to walk into a Tesco before I get another vibration.
“Bet she wants chicken wings next,” I mutter to myself with a chuckle.
But when I pull out my phone from my jeans it’s a call rather than a message and it’s Louis rather than Sam.
“Hey, mate,” I answer, “Tell her I’m coming soon. I’m almost done. Can’t find the ice cream.”
“Harry, forget the ice cream,” he tells me.
“Has she changed her mind already? Must’ve set a world record for cravings, that one.”
“Harry, listen to me. There’s been an accident. Now don’t panic. I’m driving Sam to hospital right now but I’m sure she’s fine. Just…meet us there, yeah?”
The phone nearly slips from my fingers. “What? What accident? What’s happened?”
“Look, Harry, I’m driving right now so I can’t talk long but—“
“Is Sam okay? Where is she?”
“She’s here. She’s with me. Here, Sam. Sam! It’s Harry!”
“Harry,” I hear her sigh into the phone, her voice low, “Harry, I’m sorry. I can’t see it. I can’t.”
“Sam! Sam, listen to me. I’m coming, alright? I’m coming. I’ll be there soon. I promise.”
“Harry,” she sighs again. Her words are too slow and I’m panicking.
“Sam, stay with me! God, Sam!”
“I love you, Harry,” she whispers quietly before the line goes dead and suddenly I’m in horror mode. My heart is racing and I run back to the car, speeding my way to the hospital. Every horrible thought crosses my mind. Every last possible one. I think of you and I think of Sam and I can’t breathe.
I reach my destination and run inside. The halls are a blur and the smell is sickening. I lose my balance over my feet so many times, but I don’t care. I run as fast as I can, sprinting to the main desk and shouting your mother’s name.
Mind-boggling, impatient minutes pass before they understand what I’m saying and they lead me to a room where Louis sits outside the door.
“What happened? Louis!”
“Harry,” he rises from his seat and takes my shoulders in his hands, “Harry, it’s going to be okay. Calm down.”
“How the hell do you expect me to calm down if I don’t know what’s going on, Louis?” My voice is raised beyond a normal volume and people are staring at me.
“She fell down the stairs,” he tells me quietly all the while trying to calm me, “She was trying to get to the basement and she slipped. That’s all. She hit her head and started saying strange things, so I brought her here. She’s going to be fine. She’s safe now.”
I’m partially relieved that it wasn’t anything worse. Relieved that she could at least speak to me even though everything she was saying didn’t make much sense. Relieved that she wasn’t alone when it happened. But mostly relieved that all the awful scenarios I’d conjured in my head about what had happened didn’t really happen.
Louis guides me to take a seat beside him.
“They said we can see her soon,” he says.
I try to nod but I don’t think I really do. I wait with him for however long “soon” turns out to be. I think of how scared she must have been. How scared she must still be. I want to see her. Now. More than anything. And the fact that I can’t is driving me crazy.
Liam comes after the first hour passes and he brings Niall with him, but I don’t hear anything they say to me. They stay with me for as long as it takes.
Zayn and Perrie come along as well. I figure Louis must have told them. Perrie kneels down in front of me and takes my hands in hers. Her mascara is dripping down her cheeks in streams, but she’s smiling.
“She’ll be alright, Harry,” she tells me, “She’s a fighter. She’ll be fine.”
I nod and Zayn helps her up before also sitting down.
It’s a long, brutal, tiring wait. I think of the pizza getting cold in my car.
Before I know it, Louis’s shaking me with his hands, calling my name.
“Harry, we can see her now,” he tells me, “Didn’t you hear?”
“You all can go in, but be careful. She’s just waking up,” a doctor tells us and quickly I rise, a sense of urgency building inside me.
The others enter the room and before I can step my foot inside, my arm is grabbed to the side.
“A word, Mr. Styles? I promise it’ll be brief,” the doctor tells me.
I gulp. I should have expected this.
“Alright,” I nod.
“There was significant bruising to the brain,” he begins, “She fell quite far. But she’s alright. She’s conscious. She wasn’t for a while, which concerns me. But she should be fine. She’ll have a headache for a while, maybe some bleeding as time passes. We want to keep her here overnight to watch that.”
“And how is…”
He stares at me for a few moments before shaking his head. “We’re not sure. The child could have been affected when she hit the floor but it’s hard to tell especially since she’s barely in her third trimester. We’ll keep an eye on that as well. But chances are, it’s nothing to be worried about. It looks relatively good so far.”
I nod slowly, willing to accept this all as good news. Sam’s alive. You’re alive. That’s all I can ask for.
With a firm pat on the shoulder, he grants me entrance into the room and I finally see your mother. The others are seated around her, smiling as if someone’s just told a joke.
“There he is,” she sighs.
She sounds tired. She looks tired. There’s a thick plaster wrapped round her head and her face is flushed, but her eyes are the same. Those same big, beautiful hazel eyes. Your eyes.
I walk over to her and take her hand. Someone rises from their seat, giving it to me, and I try to smile at her.
“Hey, gorgeous,” I greet her, pressing my lips to her cold fingers. A tube is inserted into the inside of her wrist.
“Hey, handsome,” she responds.
I stare at her for a while, my heart swelling inside me because I’m so happy she’s well.
“I got your pizza,” I tell her.
She laughs and I can see tears in her eyes. “My hero.”
We all sit with her for a long time. No one leaves even during the late hours. We sleep in chairs with our jackets wrapped as blankets. Technically we’re breaking the visitor rules, but the staff makes an exception for (former) One Direction.
“Harry?” your mother calls for me in a whisper as my head rests on her bed. It’s late. I haven’t let go of her hand or moved the other one from atop you all night. And she hasn’t slept.
“Hmm?” I lift my head sleepily.
“Do you think it hurt?”
My eyebrows crease together and I think I’m just hearing things from grogginess.
“What hurt?” I ask.
“The fall.”
My fingers around hers tighten. “I imagine that it must’ve hurt. Didn’t it?”
She shakes her head. “Not me, Harry.”
Her eyes meet mine and I know what she means.
“Do you think it hurt him?” She looks down at you.
“I don’t know, love. I don’t know.”
She curls her lips inward and a tear escapes her eye.
“No, no, Sam,” I rush to cup her face and wipe away the wetness, “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”
“What if he’s hurt, Harry? What if I hurt him? He hates me now. He must hate me.”
“Shh, no, Sam. Don’t say that.”
“I can’t believe I let this happen. How did I let this happen? I shouldn’t have tried to go down those stupid stairs. God, Harry, I’m so sorry.”
She begins to sob uncontrollably and I climb into the bed to hold her. I can't care less about half my body over the edge, unable to fit. I stay with her, rocking her gently, for as long as it takes to bring her sleep. And finally, when she’s still, I kiss her forehead and lean back against the pillow.
I pray it didn’t hurt you.
I don’t know what I would do if it did.
-----
You are my one and only.
You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight.
And you’ll be alright.
-----
Your mother has to stay in the hospital for a few days longer than we anticipated because of some bleeding she had, but everything worked out. The doctors fixed her up, and today she’s well enough be released and we’re ready to go home.
Zayn, Perrie, and the others stayed with us the entire time, leaving sometimes during the day but always returning. My mum, dad, and Gemma even came down after the second day. I’m thankful for them. I don’t know what I’d do without them. And an hour never passes without a “thank you so much” muttered sweetly by Sam.
I’ve been packing her bag even though we don’t leave until tomorrow morning. I’m just eager. I hate hospitals. The lads are playing a card game with Sam on the table and Perrie’s braiding her hair. I’m happy because she’s smiling, even though sometimes I see sadness in it. Sometimes I see that smile falling when no one’s looking and it worries me.
“Do you have any sevens?” I hear Louis ask Niall.
“No, go fishing, Louis,” he answers with a smirk.
Louis groans. “You’re such a cheat, Niall!”
Everyone laughs and even I do as I fold one of Sam’s jumpers and place it in the bag.
“Hey, Harry?” Sam asks quietly and I meet her eyes, “You still have those pizzas?”
I chuckle. “I can get you some more the moment we get home.”
Her nose crinkles. “I’m not really feeling jalapeños anymore.”
I smirked at her. “Saw that coming.”
Before she can argue, one of the nurses comes in and smiles at us. I feel bad for her that she’s had to deal with this many loud, rambunctious people in one hospital room.
“Alright, everyone, one more check-up and she’s all yours,” she says.
Everybody groans at first but promptly puts down whatever they’re doing, gives Sam a kiss, and leaves the room. I do the same, lingering a bit more on her cheek.
She smiles up at me, but it’s weak and I want to know why.
“She’ll be done before you know it,” the nurse assures me.
I nod at her and walk out. I meet the others in the lobby a few rooms over and when I take a seat, my mind strays to a memory from a long time ago.
That little girl in the waiting room. The one who drew that picture of a sun for her father. I take that little girl and give her long, curly dark hair. I give her hazel eyes and dimples. I put her in my lap and feel that pride building up in my chest as I look down at her drawing. I take that little girl and protect her forever. Hold her and adore her and love her with everything I have because that little girl is you, and you are my life.
I can’t wait to see you.
An hour passes and I think it’s been too long. Your mother’s little check-ups are usually short with vision tests and re-plastering and things of that sort. So I make my way back to the room and find her alone.
She’s standing over near the far wall by the window. Her back is turned, just like it was the day we found out about you. The happiest day of our lives.
“Sam?” I call out to her. She’s dressed in her normal clothes and I get excited because things are almost back to normal. “Are you finished?”
She’s quiet for a few seconds before she turns slowly, staring first at the floor beneath my feet and then up to my face.
“He’s—"
Her own gasp interrupts her words and suddenly she’s breathing heavily, clutching at her chest.
“He’s gone,” she chokes, “He’s gone, Harry.”
I watch as she suddenly collapses to the cold hospital floor, her face morphed into one of pure agony. She starts wailing, shaking hysterically.
“Gone!” she keeps repeating, over and over again, scraping her nails against the sides of her head.
Finally I feel the slightest bit of movement in my feet and I cross the room to her, falling down beside her and taking her in my arms.
“I knew it!” she cries, “I knew it! I knew he was gone! I couldn’t feel him anymore. I couldn’t—It’s my fault! Oh, God, it’s all my fault!”
She’s screaming and writhing in my arms, her shrieks so loud that my heart is breaking listening to them. The same nurse approaches us and tears your mother from me, grumbling something about how I'm not supposed to be in here and that she needs to calm down. Another pushes me out toward the others who've formed a small crowd in the doorway, each of them watching in horror.
Sam keeps sobbing, holding her still bulging belly in her hands as the nurses lift her off the floor.
“He’s dead, Harry! I killed him! Dead inside me!”
Someone, Louis or Zayn, grabs me and pulls me out of your mother’s view. I’m suddenly nauseous, my muscles trembling and eyes failing me as they fill with tears that I had been too in shock to produce before.
Perrie’s face is in her hands as she sits on the chair outside the door. Someone else is saying something to me but I can’t hear it. I can’t hear a thing but Sam’s screaming. Her door is slammed shut and I’m in agony.
Why is this happening?
I’m positioned on a chair in the waiting room and everyone stays with me but I might as well be alone. I feel alone. Without you, I am alone.
The past few minutes have gone by so quickly and I finally take in the entirety of them. It finally hits me.
I see that little girl with the sun drawing running around me. Running toward me. Ready to be scooped up into my arms and held against me.
I see your yellow nursery with all the ducks that will never be slept in and the bulletin board on the wall that will never be filled with other suns or houses or flowers.
And then I see Sam’s fake smile. Sam’s lifeless eyes. Sam’s face in absolute misery as she pulls angrily at her hair on that floor.
The little girl fades. All of it fades. You fade.
“They said it was all okay,” I hear my voice speaking but I can’t feel it happening.
The others approach me because it’s the first time I’ve said a word in hours.
“They said it was all okay,” I hear myself repeat, “That she’d be fine. That it was normal. Nothing to worry about.”
“Harry—" someone begins and I feel hands on me.
“They said this wouldn’t happen! This wasn’t supposed to happen!”
“It’s alright, Harry, just—“
“NO!” I shout so loud, my throat stings, “No! It’s not alright! This can’t be happening!” I stand and start pacing around. “Fuck! She’s gone!”
I turn to a wall and punch it, my knuckles bursting with a pain that's nothing compared to what I'm feeling inside.
“Come on, mate.” Someone clutches my arm and starts pulling me somewhere. It’s suddenly cold and nobody’s around. I figure they must have brought me here to keep me from bothering people. To let me grieve alone.
I scream. I cry out for you. I fall to my knees and hit the floor beneath me to cause a pain strong enough that will wake me up from this nightmare.
I was supposed to protect you. I was supposed to keep you safe always. And I couldn’t.
I’m so sorry, Janie. I failed you.
A bit of unbearably painful time passes but I don’t know how long I’ve been on this floor, sitting against the cold wall. I can’t form words anymore. I can’t even cry anymore. You’re gone and I’ve gone numb.
But I can hear the voices around me sounding distant but nonetheless there. It’s mostly Liam’s. I realize now that Louis hasn’t said a single word.
“Harry, I’m here,” Liam tells me. His voice sounds nearer than the others have been sounding and I can feel someone touching my arm, so it must be him.
“I’m here for you, Harry,” he says, “We all are. You’re not alone.”
Minutes, hours, maybe even days pass and I don’t know the difference. It’s all a blur and I feel empty without you. But for the first time, something that worries me beyond all repair crosses my mind. Something that hadn’t come to me early enough and makes me feel guilty that it hadn’t.
“Sam,” I say, “How is Sam?”
The others flock closer to me and I figure they must be surprised I’m speaking without shouting at unbearable volume. If I’m honest, I would be shouting if my throat didn’t ache so much.
“W-we don’t know, Harry,” Niall answers, “They just told us they had to…”
“Shut it,” someone scolds him.
“Had to what?” I ask.
“Nothing, Harry,” says Liam, “Sam is alright. She’s with the doctor.”
“I need to see her.” I rise from the floor and try to keep my balance steady.
“You can’t, Harry,” a softer voice says from a few feet away and I turn to find its origin.
It’s Perrie and she’s sitting beside Gemma and my mum. They’re each crying, Gemma’s hands tightly intertwined with Perrie’s.
“I tried to. They won’t let you yet,” she finishes.
I look over at my mum and she stands. She approaches me and the look in her eyes hurts. It hurts because it’s that same look she gave me when I first told her about you, except now it’s darker. Now it’s dying and it’s miserable and it hurts.
“Harry, it’s okay,” she says, cupping my face in her hands just like she did in the kitchen that day I told her about how I was scared. “It’s okay to cry, Harry.”
My eyes are stinging again and my head falls to her shoulder.
“It’s not your fault. It’s not Sam’s fault. Shh.”
She comforts me by rubbing my back.
“My grandchild was just needed a bit more up there than down here, love.”
I cry harder, clutching at her blouse.
“Right now, you need to be strong,” she tells me, “Strong for me. Strong for all of us. But most of all, strong for Sam. That wonderful girl behind that door who loves you with everything she has and needs you now more than ever, Harry.”
She’s right. Your mother does need me. If I’m this much of a hopeless mess right now, I can’t imagine how she is. The one who’s carried you since day one and who’s shared a special bond with you that I'll never have the honor of keeping.
“I will, Mum,” I vow, “I’ll be strong.”
She lets me go after kissing my cheeks and I see her wipe her own tears away with a tissue that looks like it’s well worn out by now. I nod. I thank everyone for being here with me. I tell them I need some time alone, so I go back to the now empty lobby and take a seat, sitting forward with my elbows on my knees, trying desperately to clear my head before I see her.
When I finally can see her, I’m afraid. Seeing her again would make this all real. It would mean that all of this did actually happen and she’s only still pregnant in my memory.
But I decide we’ll face that reality together.
I walk in and she’s lying in the bed. She’s dressed in a hospital gown once again. I take in the rest of her appearance in steps because I know the last part will threaten to bring back the mess of myself that I’d just put back together. She’s covered in a blanket that reaches below her chest, but it doesn’t hide the inevitable detail that I’ve been dreading to see.
Her abdomen is flat.
Where her hands used to constantly be, holding and staying close to you, she doesn’t dare touch. Her arms stay stiffly at her side.
The braid Perrie did for her has become a muddled knot, strands of blonde framing her head in disarray from where her hands had pulled at it.
Her face is what does it for me. She’s staring across the room at the wall opposite her. Staring at what exactly, I don’t know, but the look in her eyes tells me that whatever she sees is torturing her.
I walk over to the side of her bed and sit down in the same seat that I’d sat in just a few days ago. Back when I thought everything was okay. Back when you were still here and Sam still had life left in those hazel eyes.
Her hand is ice cold when I take it.
We sit there in that room for what feels like forever, silent, neither one of us able to say a thing to each other. The pain we feel is everywhere. This is the last thing we thought would ever happen.
“I’m sorry.”
Her voice is so low, I can barely hear it. It’s lower than a whisper and sadder than anything I’ve ever heard in my life. I turn to her.
“You have no reason to be,” I say.
Tears begin to well and she tightens her grip on my hand.
“It was a girl, Harry.”
My stomach falls inside me and I can’t stop the crying now. We were so close to having you. So ready for you. Why this had to happen, we don’t know why. We will never know why.
“Harry, my heart is broken,” your mother cries.
I stand and hover over here, pressing my forehead to hers and my hands against each side of her face.
“I’ll fix it,” I promise her, “We’ll fix this. We’ll get through it. Together.”
We’ll never know why you had to leave us so soon. Why fate decided that it wasn’t time yet for us to be together. We miss you. We love you. We will always love you. We’ll see you again soon.
You were just a small bump unborn for four months then torn from life.
Maybe you were needed up there but we’re still unaware as why.
♠ ♠ ♠
Feedback is always appreciated :)