Songs:
Dreaming With a Broken Heart: John Mayer
Jealous: Labrinth (Harry's breakdown)
These Four Walls: Little Mix
Heartbeat: Beyonce (A.J.'s breakdown)
Talking To The Moon: Bruno Mars
Coldest Winter: Kanye West
Chasing Cars: Snow Patrol
Harry's POV
I woke up to the sunlight hitting my face, mentally kicking myself for not closing them before I went to bed last night. I groaned lightly, turning over to my side to see, Katarina's scrunched up body in the same spot it's been in for the past five days. Monday and Tuesday, she stayed almost perfectly still, her body barely moving, except to breathe and occasional use the bathroom. By Wednesday, I had got her to eat a piece of toast and a bowl of fruit, which she threw up from the sudden impact of food finally entering her system. Yesterday I had turned on the TV, hoping to get some sort of reaction from her, but their was nothing, just silence and me having to watch her stare out the massive window. I had called, Olivia to let her know she wasn't going to be available for an undisclosed amount of time, so she would have to cancel all appointments and engagements until further notice. The only thing she wasn't able to get her out of was a damn meeting with a production team, I think. Thankfully, only one of us had to be there and it was going to have to be me, at least I would have, Gemma there. I knew I wasn't going to be able to pay much attention to anything they would say.
Today was Friday, what would have been, week nineteen, making it mango week. But, that was only a cruel reminder that she was no longer pregnant. There was no more, Sloane, nothing left to look forward to every Friday morning, or every day for that matter. Aside from being with, Katarina, talking to the swollen bump on her tummy was the best part of my day.
The dull ache in my chest returned at full force, literally feeling like somebody had hit me with a fucking sledgehammer. The air in my lungs left and I felt my heart tightening in a way that wasn't normal. I quickly turned back, flat on the mattress, inhaling deeply and quietly, so I wouldn't disturb, Katarina. As soon as I was calm enough, an image of a little baby girl in her arms filled my mind. I tried to push it away, but it was persistent.
All I could think of was all the things I had dreamed about since the moment I found out I was going to be a father. I was even excited about changing dirty diapers. If I was feeling this hollow and empty, I couldn't imagine how, Katarina was feeling. I wanted to cradle her small body in my arms and protect her, let her know everything was going to be okay, but she wasn't even there. It was her body, but her eyes were not the same, they had become dull and lifeless, and I knew if I did hold her, I would be the one to break down, not her. And knowing her, she would probably snap out of it and try to make me feel better, even if she was dying inside. I couldn't do that to her.
I quickly rolled out of bed, propping my elbows on my knees and my face in my palms. A gesture that had become a habit in the past few days. It was the only thing I could do from keeping myself from crying. I didn't want to cry, I couldn't, not yet. I had to be stronger, for Katarina.
With that little pep talk, I slowly dragged myself out of bed, grabbing my phone to check the time. It was only seven, I had four hours until my meeting. I sent a quick text to, Olivia, asking her to prepare anything I needed for the damn meeting before walking out of the room.
I had every intention of making breakfast and trying to get, Katarina to eat, again, but, like every day, I was met with the nursery door as I walked out of our bedroom. It just taunted me, mocking me and the pain I was feeling, reminding me of everything I almost had.
I took a small, hesitant step towards it, my hand slightly outstretched, but I backed away, not wanting to confront that damn room just yet. I turned and started walking down the hallway towards the stairs, but I stopped, feeling some sort of pull to that fucking nursery. I turned on my heel, almost sprinting back to the door, my hand resting on the bronze door knob.
Again, I hesitated, letting my hand linger for who knows how long. It wasn't until I let out a deep breath that I had no idea I had been holding that I slowly turned the knob, slightly pushing the door open. My breath caught in my throat, my hands clenching into fists. I shuffled into the dark room, turning on the light switch, letting the chandelier I had installed, illuminate the room that would now be empty.
I looked around the pretty, pink room, it wasn't finished yet, but I had plans to make it look like it was meant for a princess. My princess. I stood in the center of the room, taking in everything. Every single fucking thing in here was toying with me, dangling the little shimmer of hope that this was all just a fucking nightmare and I would wake up to find a sleeping, Katarina with our baby still growing inside of her, waiting until the perfect moment to make an appearance into this world.
But, that was impossible. The ache in my chest felt all too real to let me fully believe that this was simply just a bad dream. This was my reality. Our reality. I walked over to the dresser I had set up, a large picture of, Katarina with a swollen belly and my hands on it, both of us looking down, admiring our growing child, with giant, idiotic smiles on our faces. It looked staged, but it wasn't. Niall had snapped that picture while we were in Rio. Katarina thought she felt some movement in her stomach, so I had permanently placed my hands on her until I felt something. It was the faintest of movements, but it was a movement, nonetheless. Niall had just happened to snap the picture at the perfect moment.
It had become one of my favorite pictures of us. I edited it to a black and white photo and sent it out to get enlarged and printed out, hoping to surprise, Katarina with it. I took the large frame in my hands, angry at how happy we looked compared to our current situation. I ran my fingers over the pictured belly, hoping to feel, anything, I suppose. All I felt was the same pain I had been feeling since the early Monday hours only a few days ago.
After moments of staring at the framed picture, I turned it over, removing the back part and pulling out the picture from it's home. I took it in both hands, examining it further without the barrier of the glass. An unexpected gasp left me, fully accepting that this beautiful moment was in the past. Tears started to run down my cheeks, but I bit my lip to keep a sob from escaping.
I turned around, quickly, needing to get out, but my escape plan was hindered by a stack of boxes. My body collided with them, sending them tumbling down to the ground, the teddy bear I got, Sloane rolling, landing right in front of my feet. I picked it up, clenching it in my hand, along with the picture, sorrow and emptiness consuming me.
I left the nursery, shutting the door behind me, hoping that, Katarina hadn't heard anything, making my way down the wall. I had no idea where I was going, but I needed to get away from that fucking room. I ran down the staircase, taking three steps at a time until I reached the bottom, throwing myself to the banister for some support, clutching the picture and bear at the same time. I took a deep, shaky breath, sobs threatening to escape me once again.
My lungs felt like they were working on over time, my heart was beating faster, but the dull ache was ever present. I inhaled deeply, desperately trying to gasp for air, but nothing was coming in, or out. I ran through the first level until I found myself in a bathroom. I shut and locked the door behind me, grabbing the towel off the rack and shoving my face into it, releasing the sobs that I had been holding in while still holding on to the damn picture and bear.
Once I let a few good sobs out and I was breathing again, not properly, but anything was something, I removed the towel from my face. I let my legs carry me into the shower, my hand gaining a mind of its own, turning on the water. I stood in the freezing water until my legs gave out, my body colliding with the shower wall as I slowly sunk to the ground. I let the picture rest on my raised knees, watching as a mixture of water and tears fall upon it.
Realizing it would probably get ruined this way, I held it against my chest, trying to protect it from the harsh water. At the same time, more, louder, harder sobs left my body, creating an inhuman sound. Still, not wanting Katarina to hear, I held the teddy bear against my mouth, trying to stifle the noise, but it only fueled me to let out more. Eventually I was no longer sobbing, I was screaming.
I stayed like this for about an hour, maybe more. I don't even know. I undressed, leaving my soaked clothing on the shower floor, not bothering to to properly shower. I set the bear and picture down on the sink counter, carefully so that they would both sit there and dry, I'd be back for them later. I grabbed the towel, drying myself before wrapping it around my waist. I mistakenly got a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My face was swollen, my eyes were a sea of red and barely open, also swollen, I looked like I was high, or I had some sort of bad allergic reaction.
I slowly made my way up the stairs, not caring that I was freezing. I crept into the bedroom, for once happy that, Katarina's position hadn't changed since I last saw her. There was no way I wanted her to see me like this. I got dressed and finished getting ready before crawling on the bed until I reached, Katarina's balled up body.
I ran my fingers along her cheek, hoping to get some sort of reaction, but there was nothing. "I have to go, ba- sweetheart," I quickly corrected myself. Still no response. I kissed her temple resting my head against hers. "I'll be back as fast as I can, promise, okay?"
She took a deep breath, nodding her head up and down slightly. It was the first response she had given me in the past days. It was a very small gesture, if I hadn't been paying such close attention to her, I might have missed it, and it was something. I kissed her temple again, and again, letting her know I loved her without using words.
With one final kiss, I left for the wretched meeting.
A.J.'s POV
"I'll be back as fast as I can, promise, okay?" I heard Harry's harsh voice ask.
He was trying to be quiet and sweet, but his raspy, strained voice pained me. I had heard him while he cried until his cries became screams, the sounds echoed throughout the entire house. He went on for exactly one hour and twenty seven minutes. While I listened to him cry, I stared at the clock, watching and counting as the minutes ticked by. I wanted to get out of bed and go to him, to comfort him and let him know I was here for him just like he was here for me. But, I couldn't, I couldn't be around him. He was hurting and I couldn't see him like that.
Knowing I needed to give him something, anything; I took a deep breath before nodding, slightly. It was all I could give him. That small gesture I offered him seemed to be enough to satisfy him, which earned me multiple kisses on my temple. I wanted to tell him I was sorry and that I loved him, but I couldn't find my voice.
He lingered for a few moments before crawling back out of bed and walking out of our room. Get up. I yelled at myself in my head. You need to get up, now. I heard, Harry turn on his car and drive off. I laid in bed for exactly five minutes, mentally screaming at myself to get up until I finally did. My body sat up in bed, feeling heavy and unusual. Probably from not moving for so long. Aside from the few times, Harry would roll me into a different position, I hardly ever moved.
I hated myself for this, for everything. From losing the baby, not getting out of bed, to making, Harry cry, for being this weak and fragile to the point that I had to depend on, Harry to take care of me. It was all my fault. I did this to us. It was my responsibility to take care of our baby and make sure she was healthy, but I couldn't even do that. In the days that I laid in this fucking bed, that's all I thought about. I had eventually come to the conclusion that this was a punishment. God was punishing me for wanting to have an abortion. I negated my own child for so long that this was the price I had to pay, and now, Harry had to pay it too. His cries and screams replayed in my head, further proving to me that I had messed up and caused his pain.
I stood up from the bed, my weak legs threatening to give out, but I ignored it. With buckling legs, I made my way to the bathroom, flickering on the lights, regretting it when the lights stung my eyes. I blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the harsh light. I mistakenly looked in the mirror seeing how gross I looked. My hair was in a complex disarray, parts of it were matted down, greasy and dirty, other parts were sticking up in different directions. My skin was unusually pale, my lips were chapped, my cheeks had sunk in a bit and there were dark circles under my eyes.
Not wanting to look at myself any longer, I quickly turned around, turning on the shower. I didn't bother to set the temperature, I just got in, not feeling anything. I stood underneath, letting the water soak me before I washed up and got out again. I dried myself up, throwing on some clothes and putting my hair up in a ponytail, not bothering to brush it out.
With every intention of walking down and into the kitchen for at least some coffee, I was stopped in my tracks as I noticed the door of the nursery slightly open. My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach, my body turning frozen. In a split decision, not thinking straight, I rushed through the door, my heart sinking deeper until it hit the ground.
I swallowed hard, my throat hurting from the ball I tried to push back. My head spun looking at all the pretty pink things in the room, it was killing me. I let out a shriek, covering my mouth to stop it, but it was too late. I grabbed one of the boxes that was laying on the ground, filling it up with all the clothes, toys, blankets, everything that could fit, setting it aside. Next, I pulled all the furniture away from the walls, running out of the room and down the stairs to the garage, weaving through, Harry's cars and my motorcycles.
"Ma'am, can I get you anything?" Pete asked, as he cleaned one of the cars. I hadn't noticed he was even in there or even at the house.
I looked at him for a moment, pissed with myself when he looked at me with pity. "Paint," I snapped. "I need paint. The one we used to paint the house," I reminded him.
He looked at me for another split second before nodding and walking out of the garage. I stood there, not knowing what to do, but continued to look, just in case. In about two minutes, Pete returned with a bucket of paint, a paint tray, painters tape and paint brushes, more than one.
"I don't need help," I blurted out, knowing that's what he intended when he came back with multiple brushes.
He nodded once, gently smiling at me with sympathy. I groaned, running through the house and back up the stairs. Once I got in the nursery, I plastered some painters tape over the room, spilling some paint into the tray. I painted the entire room, covering up any trace of evidence that there was supposed to be a baby girl living here. I didn't need the reminder, nor did Harry.
Once the entire room was painted in an off shade of white, I grabbed the box I had filled previously. I ignored the tiredness from my body, running down the stairs once again, running out to the backyard, dumping all the boxes contents in the grass in the center of the yard. I ran back inside, rummaging through the junk drawer in the kitchen until I found a box of matches, Harry kept to light our candles, then running back outside. Just as I set foot outside, it began to rain.
"No, no, no, no, no, no," I yelled as it started to rain harder. "NO," I yelled up to the damn sky, hating it for its ill timing.
"No," I whined, pulling out a match, striking it, without success.
I tossed it, grabbing another. Thirteen attempts later, I was out of matches. I dropped to my knees, sobbing, tears finally pouring out of my eyes. I scrambled through the grass, grabbing matches, trying to strike them, again, but none of them would light.
"Ma'am, please," I heard Pete. "Let me-"
"No, Pete," I screamed through my sobs, pushing him away when his hands landed on my shoulders.
I tried, again, relentlessly, to light a damn match, but, again, none of them would work.
Harry's POV
I got home just as it started to pour. I went to the bathroom, checking on the picture and teddy bear I had left on the bathroom counter, my racing heart calming down when I saw they were still in place. I smiled a bit, leaving the bathroom and headed upstairs to check on, Katarina. When I got to the hallway, I noticed both our bedroom door and the door to the nursery wide opened.
My body swayed from side to side, not knowing which way to go first. The smell of fresh paint pulled me towards the nursery. I rushed in, my heart feeling like it was being squeezed to the point of combustion. Everything was disorganized, there was no longer any baby clothes or toys, the bedsheets and blankets were ripped out of the crib. The furniture was pulled away from the walls, the mural and pink walls were gone. The damn walls were white. An ugly, ugly shade of white.
Anger ran through me, my blood boiling at the sight. "KATARINA," I yelled, rushing out of the nursery and into our bedroom.
Shock and worry soon took over when I noticed the empty, unmade bed. "Katarina!" I ran to the bathroom, finding it empty with, Katarina's dirty clothes on the ground. I called out for her again and again, going through the house looking for her. But, there was no response.
"A.J., please," I heard Pete's voice calling out to, Katarina.
"Miss Sloan, please," I heard, Landon next.
The voices came from the back. I ran to the backyard finding, Katarina on the ground, kneeling in front of a large pile, mud all over her clothes, body and hair. Landon and Pete loomed over her like they were trying to tame a wild animal.
I walked over to her slowly, not knowing what I was going to find. I stood in front of her, seeing the blank stare in her eyes that had become so familiar in the past few days. I kneeled in front of her, holding her muddy face in my hands.
She looked up at me, her eyes red and watery, like she had been crying. When I looked closer, I noticed the tears that were still pouring from her eyes, getting lost among the droplets of rain that fell upon her face. She looked at me bewildered, getting up and simply walking inside the house.
Landon, Pete and I looked at each other, not knowing what just happened. They offered me sympathetic looks, making me nod in response, following, Katarina into the house.
I followed the trail of water and mud up the stairs, into our bedroom. I followed the sound of the running water. When I pushed open the bathroom door, I noticed Katarina, fully clothed on the shower floor, the glass door left wide open, her eyes still pouring, but emotion not clear in her eyes. I climbed into the shower, laying down behind her, wrapping my arms around her fragile body, holding her close to me. I didn't give a fuck if she wanted space or what she needed, I needed to be here for her. She needed this and I needed this.
"It's not your fault," I whispered into her ear, knowing exactly what was going on through her brain. She cried harder, her body shaking against mine. "It is not your fault," I repeated, my own cries coming out.
We laid there for a long while, letting both of us cry and allowing the water to wash away everything that was pent up inside of us.