"I'm going to miss you so much," he whined, tucking his face against me so I couldn't see his frown. He'd be in Paris this time next week. European tour. Only for a month, a few signings and shoots for promotional purposes, but I could sense already that it would feel like eternity without him to hold me in the cold, dark nights. He would miss a lot. My Birthday, for one, which was next Saturday, a week and six days away, the 12th of July. He'd miss the baby, too. A week was very significant in pregnancy terms, let alone four. He hated that most of all; the thought of missing a single moment of his baby's existence.
"I'm sorry about your birthday."
"Shut up, Harry, it doesn't matter. We can skype or something, can't we?" He'd apologised a good three hundred thousand times now, and I was sick of hearing it. As if he could help it, really. It wasn't his fault; it was work.
"I've ordered you your presents," he smiled cheekily, "they'll come in the post that day, okay? I hope you like them."
"Of course I will, Harry. What time does your plane leave on Wednesday?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even and failing terribly. I swallowed the lump in my throat, struggling to stop myself from thinking about not seeing him first thing in the morning anymore, like I had gotten used to. We'd been around each other so much lately, and I sort of guessed that we were an unspoken couple now. We kissed, we touched. We were having a baby - somehow it seemed to make sense that we should be together. He talked about 'us' a lot of the time, and said things like 'In the future' and 'when we've got our own place'. He once let 'when we're married' slip out, but I pretended I hadn't heard it. I'd like that, though. To be Mrs. Harry Styles.
"Seven," he whispered, trailing his thumb along my slight bump, "I'll have to leave at around 4 or 5am. I'll go quietly, don't worry. No need to wake you."
"I want you to," I retorted childishly, "I want to say goodbye."
"You'll need your sleep, Tam," he sighed, shifting his head on me. "You and the little one. Will you miss me?"
"Is the sky blue?"
"Good, I'll miss you two. You'll be alright without me for a few weeks, you've got each other. My two favourite girls."
"Harry," I sighed impatiently, "We don't know the gender yet, remember?"
He smiled dreamily, nodding slowly against me. "Oh no, I know. I just...well, I don't know. It doesn't matter."
He thought it was a girl. He called it 'her'. I didn't encourage it, not wanting him to be disappointed if it wasn't, though I knew he wouldn't be, he'd be happy whatever our little one was as long as our angel was happy and healthy. I liked the idea, I couldn't deny. The thought of him with his little princess admiring her pretty dresses and sparkly tiaras with wide eyes and exaggerated enthusiasm. The image made me smile.
"You still wear this?" he whispered in a hushed voice, and I glanced down to see what he was speaking about. He was twirling the little charm from my Tiffany's bracelet between his fingers, watching the diamonds on the little silver heart glint in the light.
"I never took it off," I said, with a bemused look. I'd thought about flinging it into the Thames at one stage, when I saw him draped over those girls in the newspaper after I left him, it hurt so badly. But I couldn't bare to take it off my wrist - it had been there since he put it there that Christmas Day. It seemed strange that this December, I'd be ready to pop. We could have a baby by Christmas Day. The memories of last year made me suddenly think of his family, a thought that filled me with dread. Dear God, what would they say about all this...
"You haven't told your family yet, have you Harry?" I asked cautiously.
He groaned in dread, tucking his face against my chest, his arms flopped down. I suspected Harry was drifting off to sleep as I shut down the laptop, his mumbles become quieter and more unintelligible. He was adorable when he slept, and I felt this was the perfect way for me to spend our second last evening together; watching him sleep.
chapter 19
Start from the beginning
