About (Harry Styles)

81.

Elaine's POV

"You don't have to remind me," I say in a harsh whisper, dropping Chris' wrist.

"I'm sorry," he sighs frustratingly. "But she shouldn't be here.  After everything she put you through .. You have to understand where I'm coming from."

"I know," I assure him.  He absolutely detests the woman.  After she turned her back on me, after I told her I was pregnant, ever since then, he's always held a grudge against her even though it would make more sense if I was the one to hold a grudge.

He shifts his weight to other side and looks to the door then back at me.

"Why is she here anyway?"

"I don't know," I say. 

I was meaning to ask her that but she fell asleep, and I couldn't trust Chris to be in the same room as her. 

"She didn't bring --"

"No," I immediately interject.

If she did, if she brought him along, we wouldn't be even having this conversation. They would have never made it through the door. I would never, ever let that disgusting monster anywhere near my daughter.

"She's here by herself?" He mutters to himself out loud.

"Yeah."

"Did she meet Charlotte?"

I nod. He'd be surprised to know how well they got along, but I decide to keep that information to myself for now. If I tell him my intentions of keeping my mother around, of Charlotte finally having a relationship with her only grandmother, I don't think he'll be very open to that idea.

"She probably still thinks I'm the father," Chris adds, and I suddenly remember I told her that Chris was the father. If she knew the father was actually someone else, especially him, she would have told him herself.

"What am I going to do?" I ask, feeling suddenly anxious. Chris watches me with, and I hate to say it ... pity. His deep brown eyes are saddened and calm as they stare into mine.

"I'm going to give it to you straight, Elaine. You have two choices here. Either you continue with the lie. And you live your life in fear ... Or you do the right thing," he says softly. "Tell them the truth."

Them.

Though I try to ignore it, I know exactly who else he is referring to. And it's not just him.

Charlotte.

"So you can finally let go of the guilt that you've been carrying all this time."

For the rest of the night while I lay in bed, Chris' words replay like a broken record in my mind. So much so that I even search through my purse for the handkerchief that still has his number on there. But just as I find it, I return it back to its place.

I crawl back into the space of the bed beside the sleeping girl. Steadily laying my head on the pillow, I admire the little version of me. Although she shares many qualities with her biological father, she has my full cheeks and my button nose.