This Love

Chapter 88

SCARLETT STYLES

For the last week, I have told myself not to make today about me because it's not about me at all. Today is the opening of Harry, Seth, and Niall's new pub and business venture. They've been working so incredibly hard on The Wall for years now, and all of that hard work is paying off today as they open up their second establishment that has already had so much buzz around it because of how successful their first place has been.

But while it isn't about me, I can't help but feel so awful about myself every time I look in the mirror lately. I'm six months pregnant but I feel like I've been carrying this baby for years with more years to come. I feel as though I'm getting larger by the second and I'm uncomfortable all the time. I'm hot, I'm tired, my boobs are huge and they're sensitive to the touch, and did I mention that I feel giant?

I also feel awful for giving Harry a run for his goddamn money during this whole process. I'm so hyper-aware of how psychotic I've been, but I can't stop. It's like I can't see past my blinding rage or sobbing episodes even though I'm conscious of them happening when they do. In the moment, it's just hard to bring myself down, and I'm starting to wonder if Harry will never want to do this again with me because I've been such a bitch. I never went to see Dr. Wright like I said I would, so maybe it's my fault.

"Scar?" Harry comes striding into the room, distracting me at just the right time when I feel an obnoxious emotional lump forming in my throat. His smile at the sight of me helps, too. "You look great."

I offer a faint chuckle as I finish securing my hair in a high and slick ponytail to hopefully keep the attention on my makeup. Lately, I feel less like a slob with my hair styled up and effort put into my face. But my outfit is just a little black ribbed dress made of stretchy and soft material. It's nothing special.

"How do you feel?" He only asks when I failed to respond to his compliment.

"I feel alright," I lie because even I can't take another complaint from myself. I'm sick of voicing how ugly I feel and making myself sound so insecure in the process. It's not me and I think that's the most frustrating thing. I don't feel like me anymore.

"Well, you look incredible," he tells me again, squeezing my exposed shoulders as he lands a soft kiss on the side of my neck. "I know you haven't been feeling one hundred percent in the last couple of days, but I really appreciate that you're willing to come tonight. I didn't want to celebrate this whole thing without you."

I nod, leaning back into his chest as he smiles at my bump in the reflection of the mirror. "I promise to try and get through the night without any hiccups."

"Mhm," he rests his chin on my shoulder, splaying both of his hands on my stomach as the baby moves. That never fails to bring the happiest expression to his face. "There she is."

"I think she likes you," I mutter as I look down to see the movement through my dress. It's cute and incredible, but it also gives me the fucking creeps.

"I hope so," he laughs, trying to follow her little kicks and punches. "Do you think because we played Beethoven twice for her she'll come out to be a little genius?"

That makes me laugh too, which is probably why he said it. "Maybe."

"Maybe she'll come out with a little pair of glasses on and she'll be able to do equations already. Maybe you're giving birth to the next Einstein."

"I guess we'll just have to see," I chuckle at the image of a baby with glasses on, but when I look up to see myself in the mirror again, Harry's already staring at me with that soft and sympathetic smile on his face. He knows how hard this has been for me and he knows that he can't do anything about it.