wedding buddies ↠ harry styles ✓

EIGHTY EIGHT

Carrington Hill

Heartache was a bitch. Couldn't get rid of it not matter what I tried. Sleeping seemed like a nice idea but it was impossible to accomplish. Whenever my eyes closed, I began to feel dizzy and my stomach jumped right back in my throat.

I was still at Mia's place. She got the guest bedroom ready for me but there was no way I could have gotten up the stairs so I decided to camp on their couch. She had work in the morning which she could have just called up and let them know she wasn't going in but I told her not to do that. She needed to carry on with her life as if I wasn't going through the shittiest time of mine because I never wanted to stop her from achieving great things. A day off may not have seemed like such a big deal but it definitely would have made me feel guilty if she missed it because of me.

Mia was in bed, most likely in a deep sleep whilst I laid on the couch, awake. It was comfortable, with all the pillows and soft blankets so that was not why I couldn't sleep. Harry was the reason for it. He was on my mind like all the time. Consumed all my thoughts.

Was he okay? Was he still angry? Did he cry? How much did he hate me? Would he throw me out if I went back home? Did he talk to anyone? Was he awake? Did he eat after we got home? Drink? God, was he drunk?

I just wanted him to be okay. No matter how much he despised me, all I wanted to know was whether he was okay.

Fuck that.

I wanted to know if he hated me. I wanted to know why he freaked out on me so much. I wanted to know why we couldn't see eye to eye. I wanted to know how I could make it better for him. I wanted to know if he'd leave me if I said I'm not keeping the baby.

Was I keeping the baby?

Hell, I had no idea.

Not one bone in my body did want to get an abortion. I couldn't have thought of that as a possibility. I understood why women done it but that couldn't have been me. It didn't have to be me.

This baby was a baby made out of love. This baby had a dad. This baby had a supportive dad. This baby had the opportunity to born into a loving, safe and happy environment. This baby had an amazing life and she or he wasn't even ready to enter it just yet.

But did I even want that?

Did I want to give up my body for a baby? Did I want to give up dancing? Did I want to give up working? Did I want to be pregnant?

The honest answer to that was: no.

I didn't want to give my body up. I didn't want to give dancing up. I didn't want to give up working. I didn't want to be pregnant.

But here I was. Pregnant. There was a baby in me. A whole ass living creature. There was something – a human being – forming inside of me. There was something relying on me. There was something that loved me even more than anyone I had ever known.

I wasn't only responsible for myself but for someone else, too.

3:38 am.

Lovely.

With a loud sigh, my finger unlocked my phone after it turned back on. Mia turned it off the minute she got to me which I appreciated because I probably would have read every single text message Harry had sent and seen every missed call and every voicemail – well, if he did.

My text notifications were turned off and the app was on the first page of my phone so I didn't see them. I didn't scroll backwards to check. Instead, I clicked on the Instagram icon and went through my feed. Later, I clicked on my profile and saw that I hadn't posted anything in almost two months. It didn't surprise me – I was very busy. Even if I was on social media, I usually only posted on my Instagram story or tweeted some silly stuff.