Chapter 39

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3 weeks later...

Abby's P.O.V.

I walked out into the cold night from my therapist's office, replaying the last hour in my head. I've been going to a therapist twice a week since... it.

I was dreading heading home tonight, for fear of the Gavin nightmares I've been having. The trial was a while ago, and Gavin was sentenced to seven years in jail, and twelve of probation. I was glad about that, and my mind wander to that vacation. His touch was inescapable.

I missed Carina, she was due back in the States tomorrow, she had decided to stay with Ryder to figure out whatever their relationship was. Of course I was in the hospital at the time, and I had to come back here right away, according to Management.

I opened the door to my car and sat inside, letting my mind race.

Management about killed Harry for everything he did. There's so many things he's not allowed to do anymore, like he can't see me for four months. Not that we are dating or anything. I felt terrible, like it was all my fault. He tried so hard to explain to me before I left that it wasn't.

He wanted the best for me and he felt terrible; the truth was I felt terrible, I couldn't get that sick feeling out of my stomach. It was still there, three weeks later.

Harry had been trying to text me, but I have not replied to any so I couldn't get him into any more trouble. He must've been a mess, having to go back on tour with everything on his shoulders.

I hadn't noticed tears were running down my face as I finally started my car. Raindrops rolled down my windshield as well, and I pulled out of the parking lot.

Tracy, my therapist, always told me not to blame myself, but I continued anyways.

Harry had told me some beautiful words in the hospital room, but I was hurting so much I wasn't sure if I could just give in and run back to him. I had to face the truth, as Carina had explained to me, he basically helped me get raped.

My mind has been an unstable mess, and I don't understand why Simon would leave me alone in another country.

It was pitch black outside, and I pulled up to my house, slightly confused because I was sure I left the outside lights on before I'd left.

I pulled into my driveway, and slammed on my brakes as a man figure stood in my driveway, soaked to the bone and holding roses.

Fear slammed into my chest as I realized who it was. Harry? I opened the door of the car, not even caring that I was going to get poured on.

Harry didn't even move, like he didn't want to alarm me, but his smile grew wide. His eyes were worked their way up and down my body, like he hadn't seen me in forever.

I closed the car door, walking slowly towards Harry, and I wasn't sure how to react. He handed me the flowers.

"How are you doing baby?" He leaned in to kiss me on the cheek, I tried not to flinch, but failed.

"Sorry," I mumbled, my eyes dropping. He moved backwards a little, obviously trying to show me that it was alright for me to have space.

"Don't be," He said, wiping a thumb across my cheek. His eyes met mine as I looked up. "Have you been crying?"

I nodded, collapsing into his chest, "I've missed you so much."

I felt him let out a breath as he traced circles on my back. It was him and I, and too my surprise, it felt right.

"How've the last few weeks been?" He smiled, trying to lighten the mood; I bet I looked completely psycho.

"Fine," I lied, not wanting him to worry while he was on tour. Tour. Hold on.

"Aren't you supposed to be on tour?" I asked, suddenly worried.

"We had a day off, there was a show yesterday and tomorrow." He smiled, and I noticed the bags under his eyes in the dim lighting of the headlights. He could've rested today, but he kept traveling to come see me. He looked so tired and lost to be completely truthful, and I was probably the reason for that too.

"Now tell me the truth, how've the last few weeks really been?" He could see right through me, he could see every minute of this hell I've been through. I felt so vulnerable, so weak, despite my efforts to bring up my self confidence.

"Terrible." I answered, tears filling up in my eyes again. It was easier to tell the truth than to make up an excuse to make Harry feel shittier.

I was trying not to sob, trying not to let my emotions take over.

Harry just held me, shushing quietly, "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want too."

"Harry," I said, seriousness in my voice all of a sudden. There was something I needed to tell him, and I wasn't sure if I would be able to see him again until the end of tour, and I knew I couldn't wait that long.

He raised his eyebrows to show he was listening.

"Do you love me?"

He seemed a little taken back by the question, but he answered right away. "Abby, I'd give up my job, my life, and my vocal cords just to be able to look at that beautiful face of yours. Of course I love you."

I smiled, liking where this was going. "I love you too, Styles."

I can't believe those words were coming out of my mouth, and for a moment I felt like everything would be okay for once. For that moment it didn't feel like I was running back to him, not being strong. I needed his help and he needed mine. Both of us were coping with the situation in our different ways.

"Not to add on, but would you say the same for two people?" I asked, not really sure how to really explain this without him blowing up.

He looked at me, confused out of his mind, "Go on."

"Well, um, I'm pregnant," I bit my lip waiting for his reaction.

"With his baby?" Harry looked discussed. I nodded, tears rolling down my cheeks, he was so mad.

"And you're not getting an abortion after what that ass did to you?" He was trying to control his voice, to not scream at me.

"Harry," I tried to reason with him, "he or she is a part of me too. I'm not having an abortion."

When I had found out I was a complete mess. Harry was reacting the opposite of what I wanted, but what I expected. If someone was to father my children, I would want it to be Harry.

"I watched them be conceived," Harry said, staring at the ground. I could tell this was just as painful for him as it was for me. His eyes were wide, not blinking, as he was thinking about that day.

"Harry," I said, putting my palms on his cheeks, directing his attention towards me. His green eyes met mine, and I knew for sure what I wanted to do. "Harry, I love you and I know you love me, and I want you to father my child. I know it's hard to think that it's part of Gavin inside of me, but trust me; I have to look down and notice that everyday, and it kills me."

Rain was running down his face and nose, his hair matted down on his forehead. His eyes were in sync with mine, his lips open ajar and he suddenly picked me up. His lips connected with mine, and everything seemed okay once again. I wasn't about to say that all was forgiven, but it was on its way to being that way.

I pulled back for a moment, "you are really bipolar."

He laughed, throwing his head back. "It's been a long few weeks," he said before reconnecting our kiss, the invisible fireworks bursting above us in the pouring rain.

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