I go quiet when we have visitors around the house, I'm not ready to face anyone yet, it's too hard. I still feel like a disgrace to my fans and there's nothing I can do to change that. Harry brings out the best in me, he's helping me get better. He's saving my life.
"Why do you do all of this for me?" I ask my husband as he gently massages soap over my body. I'm currently lay in the bath, Harry kneeling beside me on the floor washing my tired skin.
"Do all of what?" His eyes focus on his actions at hand, making sure my body is completely clean. Sometimes he doesn't even use the soap, he just likes to trace his fingers across my skin; he always says it's because he's missed me, and he finds it hard to believe that I'm back in his arms again.
"All of this. Taking care of me." My head rests on the back of the bath facing Harry's tranquil frame, my knees bend as I'm too large to stretch out.
"I do it because I love you Emma." I go to argue but he cuts in before I can, "And yes, I do deserve you." He retaliates, knowing what I was about to say before I've said it.
My smile involuntarily glows as I watch the beautiful man caress my wet skin, his fingers causing noticeable goosebumps across my body as he continues. I chuckle at the small bumps as does he, the room consuming just our laughs and nothing more. I love times likes this.
"What room do you think the baby would've been in?" I utter in a murmur. I really don't mind talking to Harry about the baby, he made me realise that I wasn't going through all of this alone and that I could confide in him if I needed to; simply talk to him and not bottle my emotions. He tells me that's what makes my condition worse.
He smiles inwardly to himself, "One of the spare rooms. And she'd have a cream-coloured crib."
"That would've been nice." I hum contently at the thought of his words.
"Well we'll have to remember that for next time." His voice echoes perfectly around the bathroom, his words bouncing off the tiled walls and coming back to me.
"Next time?" I glance up at him with a smile.
"Yeah, we're not giving up that easily." He mumbles confidently, his attention focused back on my skin.
"No, we're not." I lovingly gaze at him, proud of his admirable words.
"You'll have to tell me that you're actually pregnant next time as well. So I know that your mood swings are because you're just being a bitch and not because you're cheating." He laughs whole heartedly at his own words, a confident giggle leaving my lips also.
"Cheeky!" I nudge, although my smile drops due to a sudden train of thought, "but what if all this happens again?"
"Then we'll work through it again. You're strong Emma, and I'm so proud of you." His raspy voice encourages me, no hint of hesitation in his voice sat all. "And if I have to make you egg on toast everyday and force feed it to you, then I will." He smiles teasingly making me do the same.
"I love you Harry." My small hand grabs his larger one and the two connected limbs rest lightly on my bare chest, mine and Harry's eyes gazing at each other like they used to.
"And I love you Emma." He carries me from the bath; water droplets tapping lightly against the tiled floor until he walks carefully into our bedroom, the droplets stopping as they hit the fluffy carpet. Harry places me down onto our bed, silence filling the air after our small and genuine confessions. "Stand on these baby."
His voice gently breaks the quiet and he places some electronic scales in front of me. I furrow my eyebrows at his actions, "why?"
"I want to weigh you every day babe, just to make sure you're gaining weight." He tells me calmly, his words making more sense now.
With Harry's help I reluctantly stand on the scales, weighing in at just eight stone; for an almost twenty three year old woman with a height of five foot seven inches, that is incredibly underweight. My gulp is audible and Harry notices my discomfort, lifting me off and placing me back on the bed.
He quickly changes me and carries me downstairs, my legs too weak to walk myself. "So what would you like to eat Em's?" He asks with a sigh and a genuine smile, crouching beside me as I sit comfortably on the couch.
"Something small." I offer, not really having a large stomach to eat a lot of food.
"Cheese on crackers?" The simple and perfect suggestion pops to his head. I nod and watch as he walks away to prepare the small snack. I have progressed considerably in the last few days I've been home, although I haven't gained any weight yet.
"Hey boy," I smile at Comet as he sits himself next to me, resting his head comfortably on my lap whilst I stroke his long fur. "You're going to have to move when Harry comes back sweetie." I smile down at the puppy. He grumbles reluctantly making me laugh.
"Here you go babe," Harry's voice sounds in the room and he places a plate of cheese on crackers onto my lap, moving Comet out of the way. "I want you to eat it all if you can. And take these before you do." He smiles handing me my medication with a glass of apple juice.
I smile at his choice of drink, knowing it's both of our favourites. Slowly swallow the two tablets, I take a large gulp after each one, handing the glass back to Harry soon after; I nibble at the food first, not really hungry, however within seconds my stomach rumbles desperately and I eat all of the snack leaving nothing but crumbs over.
My stomach feels heavy afterwards but I know that's a good sign, I know that I'm getting better because everything's progressing. I eat more, I talk more and my old self is beginning to reappear; and that's all because of Harry. I know that I still weigh the same and that I'm not strong enough to walk, but that will come soon enough. I just need to have the patience.
"Well done baby." Harry smiles proudly and places a kiss to my temple, taking the plate from my hands and waltzing with it back into the kitchen. I wish I could go with him, I hate the fact that he has to carry me everywhere; it seems almost cruel to make him look after me and do things for me, although I wouldn't talk to anyone else.
Harry is the reason why I'm progressing, he's the reason why I'm trying so hard; I want to make him happy again, I want our old life back. And I'm determined to make that happen. He's helping me realise that it's not my fault, he's making me listen.
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- Pianogirl56
