A/N: This is a sequel to my book The Easy Way Out. If you haven't read that one, I would kindly suggest you do so you're not lost.
Thank you and I love you guys!!!
***Bea's POV
We are home.
Harry parks our newly purchased Honda Odyssey, that we absolutely love, in the driveway and takes the key out of the ignition.
And he huffs a sharp breath.
I can tell he is relieved.
The forty-five-minute drive was slow; slower than the right-hand lane would allow.
And we were in the right-hand lane.
Impatient drivers passed us, letting us know their horns worked. One even demonstrated that his middle finger worked as well.
But I didn't let it get to me because my husband was driving me and our second child home from the hospital.
I honestly can't believe how lucky I am. I have a wonderful husband, a beautiful daughter and now a handsome little boy.
My heart is overjoyed and my world is complete.
Harry unbuckles his seatbelt and clips his sunglasses to the visor.
I catch his glance in the rearview mirror and we smile.
"We're here, Love," Harry turns to face me. "Is he asleep?"
I keep eye contact as I smile and nod.
Lord knows I'm not waking up this baby.
Harry turns back around and opens his door to step out.
I unbuckle my seatbelt and tighten my ponytail. I'm more than ready to get inside the house.
I'm exhausted and in so much pain that just the very thought of laying down in my bed nearly has me salivating.
All I want is a heating pad on my lower back and a pillow between my legs.
And something to eat.
But I know as soon as we get inside that my full attention will be on my newborn son.
And I'm more than fine with that.
Harry opens the sliding door on Sebastian's side and pulls the canopy over the car seat.
"Bea," Harry whispers as he unlocks the car seat, "do you need help getting out?"
I nod and look away.
I'm embarrassed. This pregnancy and birth knocked me for a loop.
With Ferris, our two-year-old daughter, I only gained twenty-three pounds. But with this nine-pound linebacker, I put on a whopping fifty-three pounds.
I feel like a whale.
A disgusting, fat, beached whale.
A whale that's sitting on a donut pillow.
Well, isn't that a sexy image? Not. Harry will never want to have sex with me again.
Before my mind can spiral deeper into that depressing thought, Harry touches my shoulder.
"It's okay, Bea," his hand caresses me and I finally look at him. "I want to help you."
"Okay," I smile softly. "I love you."
Harry whispers he loves me as he wraps his hand around the car seat handle, taking it with him. He presses the button and the sliding door closes as he walks around to my side.
A slow breath leaves my mouth as I mentally prepare myself for the inevitable pain.
And I give myself a pep talk as I press the button to open my door.
You can do thi- y'know, that car salesman was right. These automatic doors really do come in handy. No, focus, Bea.
I turn my head and Harry's lips are suddenly on mine. I make a surprised sound and he chuckles into our kiss. My lips slowly form over his bottom lip and my hands press to his cheeks. His slight stubble tickles my palms and I sigh into our kiss.
This man, my husband and the father of my children, is indescribably wonderful.
"Okay," he mumbles before pulling away, "let's get you and Sebastian inside. I'll come back for the bags."
"Okay," I exhale and place my hands in his.
My smile quickly fades as I shift my right leg to step down, then my left. And with a quiet groan, I finally stand up.
"Are you alright, Bea?" Harry wraps his left arm around my waist to steady me.
No. I'm in pain, Babe.
"Yes, Harry," I smile and press the button to shut the door, "I'm fine."
And with my little white lie, we walk up the pathway.
It's a beautiful June day. The sun is shining brightly and a warm breeze is blowing through the leaves of the large I-don't-know-what-kind-of-tree-it-is-nor-do-I-care tree in our front yard.
And per my husband's request, there aren't any potted plants or flowers hanging on the porch.
Because I would just kill them.
Harry calls me 'plant killer.'
I counter with 'unintentional plant killer.'
Harry calls me 'plant killer.'
And if it weren't for our HOA, our yard would look like a desert.
A smile forms on my face when I look at our beautiful two-story house. It's the house that Harry and I have made our home for almost five years this December.
I'm brought out of my daydream as we near the porch steps; the beautiful but dreaded porch steps.
For right now, at least.
Giving birth to my babies was the most empowering, wonderful and excruciatingly painful thing I've ever done.
And I would do it all over again.
But let's take the doctor up on those drugs next time, shall we?
"It's okay, Bea," Harry holds onto my hip just a little tighter. "I've got you."
"I know you do, Harry," I smile at him as I wrap my right arm around his waist and cling to his shirt with my left hand.
We take the last step up and we are welcomed by a mat personalized with our last name.
Harry sets the car seat down and unlocks the door but he doesn't open it. Instead, he turns to me and lifts his hands to my cheeks. Our tired eyes meet as his thumbs brush my skin.
My eyes close and heart races in anticipation and when our lips touch, I feel those butterflies in my stomach.
His hands slide to my shoulders and down my arms as our kiss fades.
"Welcome home, Sweet Bea," Harry winks at me before picking up the car seat. "And welcome home to you, too, Seb."
Harry opens the door, we step inside and the first thing I notice is 'Harry and me.'
It smells like us.
Every household has a unique scent specific to the people living in it. And the air that I'm breathing in right now is proof that this is our home.
It's comforting, welcoming and ours.
Not only does our home smell like us, it looks like us.
The entryway is decorated with a few hanging pictures of our wedding day and studio portraits of when we were a family of three.
And those pictures surround an appliqué of the word 'Family.'
That reminds me, I need to schedule another picture appointment.
My eyes focus downwards and a pair of Harry's boots, my sandals and Ferris' Crocs line the floorboard underneath the end table.
Aw man, I need to sweep under there.
But I can't stop smiling.
We are home; the home that the love of my life and I have created together.
I couldn't have wished for a more wonderful husband. Harry loves me, takes care of me, provides for me and does everything in his power to make me happy.
As with any marriage, Harry and I have our fair share of arguments. We're both a little stubborn, but for the most part, we lead a warm and loving life filled with lots of laughter and, of course, passion.
"I'm so glad we're home, Babe," I look up at Harry as we slowly make our way into the living room.
"Me too, Baby," he kisses the top of my head before placing the car seat down. "Would you like to rest on the couch for a while?"
"Yes, that sounds really good, plus it will give me time to gear up for those stairs."
"Okay. Do you need the um, the donut pillow?"
"Ye- oh shoot," I look away. "I forgot it in the van."
"It's okay, Baby," he kisses my cheek. "I need to get the bags anyway."
He's just so sweet.
As I watch Harry walk to the door, I feel another wave of emotions flood my heart.
It ranges from gratefulness, love, unworthiness and wanting to rip off his clothes and please him right here and now.
Darn those black skinny jeans.
Tears pool in my eyes but they don't stay there for long. I slowly reach for the tissue box on the coffee table and I look up.
"Bea!" Harry drops the bags at the door and rushes over. He chucks the pillow on the couch and smooths his hands on my arms. "What happened? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Harry," I nod as I blow my nose. "It's just my hormones."
"Are you sure, Love?" he tilts his head down to mine.
"I'm sure," I crane my neck and kiss him, "I promise."
"Okay," Harry situates the pillow on the couch and he braces his hands under my arms. "On three, Love. One, two, three."
I hold onto his strong arms and whimper as he slowly lowers me down.
"Thank you, Harry," I kick off my sandals and my attention is brought to a little cry. "I need to nurse him, Babe."
"Okay," Harry kneels down to unbuckle Sebastian. "What do you need?"
"Ummm," I actually scratch my head.
I hope this pregnancy brain goes away soon. It's so irritating.
"Oh, I know," Harry walks over to me, cradling Sebastian in his arms. "That booby pillow."
I laugh with a snort.
He's so adorable.
"It's a boppy pillow, Babe," I smile at him as he places our crying son in my arms. "And yes, that and his blanket, please."
"It should be called that," he wiggles his eyebrows as he fits the pillow around me. "A lot more would sell."
"You're funny, Babe," I lay Sebastian on the pillow and start unbuttoning my blouse. "I need his blanket, please."
I am embarrassed and self-conscious of my 'pregnancy body.'
My skin is marked with stretch marks.
My thighs look like a dairy product.
And I'm afraid to look at my bum.
But right now, my baby is hungry.
And that's more important than my insecurities.
I unclip my nursing bra and hold Sebastian close to me and he latches on.
And he stops crying.
There is a God.
"You don't have to cover up," Harry glances at me as he rifles through the diaper bag. "We're home."
"I know," I take the blanket he hands me and I cover up. "I'm just doing you a favor."
I laugh softly and my eyes fit to his.
I stop laughing.
Oh my. Is he mad at me?
"Bea," Harry sits next to me and takes my hand, "I love you. Everything about you. And I'm not just saying this to get a peek at your amazing breast. You nursing Seb, I don't know, is a bonding moment. I just want to be a part of that. Baby, I can tell by the pretty pink blush on your cheeks that you're embarrassed, but there's nothing to be embarrassed about. I love everything about you, Bea. Everything. Okay?"
Words are caught in my throat.
I'm rendered speechless.
I keep my head forward to avoid eye contact and I nod slowly so my tears won't fall.
My heart is overwhelmed.
I don't deserve Harry Edward Styles.
"Okay, Beatrice?"
His tone is soft and soothes my aching heart.
"Okay," I finally look in his eyes. I see that he means it and I can't help but smile. "I love you, Harry."
And with Harry's affirmation of his love for me, I remove the blanket and drape it over the arm of the couch.
Harry leans in close and brushes our noses together.
"You cornball," I giggle and he kisses me.
In our kiss, I'm reminded that I am treasured by my husband.
Flaws and all.
His fingertips touch my left cheek just as our lips separate.
"You're the cornball," he kisses my nose and we quietly laugh, "but I love you."
"I love you," I look into his eyes because that's all I really can do at the moment.
Harry smiles at me then he looks at Sebastian. He delicately brushes his fingers over our son's light brown peach fuzz and he kisses his head.
"I love you, Seb," he sits back and smiles at me. "Are you hungry, Baby?"
"Starving."
"Me too," he pats my knee before getting up. "I'll bring our lunch over here."
"Aw, like our own little picnic," my smile turns into a laugh and I look down at Sebastian.
He's enjoying his lunch.
That's for sure.
"Is that Seb?" Harry chuckles as he sits back down.
"Yep, he was hungry," I caress my baby boy's cheek with my thumb and I smile at his little noises. "I love you, Sebastian."
Harry starts humming a tune as he opens the sack on the coffee table.
And I watch my husband in awe.
He removes the plastic lid from my salad that is filled with a double order of grilled chicken and extra veggies and sets it on the coffee table.
Then, he tears off the corner of the lemon vinaigrette dressing packet and drizzles it on top. But he doesn't use all of it because he knows I don't like a soggy salad.
Finally, he cuts the grilled chicken into easier bites.
Harry's doing all of this for me.
For me.
For unworthy me.
For unworthy me that is a whale.
For-
"Here you go, Love," he turns to me, holding the fork in his right hand and cupping it with his left.
"Harry, I can feed myself," I tilt my head. "Just set it on this side table."
"You're not left-handed and we both know you'll make a mess," he arches his eyebrow. "Here."
After a heavy sigh, I open my mouth and he carefully feeds me the bite.
"Oh my God," my head falls back onto the couch as I chew, "this is so good."
"Did you have a foodgasm, Baby?"
"Mhm," I swallow the delicious bite and reach for my tea. "Aren't you gonna eat?"
I take a drink and set my glass down as I watch Harry spear the fork through some lettuce, a cucumber slice and a piece of chicken.
Don't forget the tomato, Babe.
"I'll eat," he spears through a tomato chunk and holds the fork to my mouth, "but you first."
"I love you, Harry," I take the bite and it's just as good as the first one.
"I love you, too, Bea," he winks at me before preparing my next bite.
This moment with Harry is special.
It's intimate and humbling as he feeds me bite after bite and wiping my chin at times.
I'm reminded of how selfless and compassionate he really is.
The glances and smiles that Harry and I share while he feeds me are all we need at the moment.
No words.
Of course Harry and I say we love each other multiple times a day, but over the years, we've learned to express our love silently as well.
And sometimes, that's when we hear it the loudest.
Harry pursues me every day with his words, actions and touches. It's like he's afraid I'll forget.
But in moments like this, his love is permanently etched on my heart.
And Harry is the artist.
After ten minutes or so, my stomach and heart are full as I finish my lunch with a refreshing drink of sweet tea.
"Thank you, Harry," I set the glass down with a lick of my lips. "That was really good."
"You're welcome, Bea," Harry sits on the edge of the couch and takes the lid off his salad. "Mine looks pretty good, too."
As Harry eats his lunch, I keep my left hand on Sebastian and touch his shoulder with my right. And I start massaging my husband's muscles.
Harry looks back at me with a smirk as he chews.
And he scoots closer.
"Subtle, Babe," I giggle and continue massaging. "So, have you submitted your grades for work yet?"
"Mhm," he nods, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I'm really pleased with my students' efforts this year."
"That's great, Babe."
"It really is," he takes another bite and tips his head forward as I move my hand to his neck. "It's like they 'got it,' y'know?"
"That's wonderful, Harry," I knead my fingers in his tensed muscles and he sighs.
As Harry continues to eat, I card my fingers through his curls and lightly scratch his neck. Tiny bumps form and I smile to myself when he shivers.
I love that he's so ticklish.
"It was a great school year," he takes a swig of his water and sets it back on the coffee table. "I'm sad to see it end."
"Well, I know your passion and enthusiasm for drawing will inspire those kids to keep at it," I languidly move my hand down his spine and massage his lower back.
Harry puts his empty salad bowl in the bag with mine and turns to face me. He swallows his last bite, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Thank you, Bea," Harry takes my hand in his. "Your support means so much, I mean, if it weren't for you-"
"I believed in you, Harry," I squeeze his hand. "I still do and I love you so so much."
"I love you so much, Bea," Harry leans in and kisses me.
Our little kiss is suddenly serenaded by Sebastian's cry and we smile into our kiss. He pecks my lips and looks in my eyes.
"I'll clean up."
"Thank y- oh, can you hand me the burp cloth, please?"
"Of course, Love."
Harry walks over to the diaper bag while I close the right side of my nursing bra, clipping it in place.
"Here you go, Bea," Harry places the cloth on my shoulder and kisses my temple.
"Thanks, Babe," I lift Sebastian to my shoulder and pat his back.
"You're welcome, Baby," he gathers the trash and makes his way into the kitchen.
"It's okay, little one," I kiss my son's head, that smells heavenly, as my hand makes small circles on his back.
And I coax a good burp from him.
You are just like your father, little one.
"Was that Seb?" Harry laughs as he walks back into the living room.
"Yes," I support Sebastian's head and lower him to my other side. I unclip my bra and hold him to me. He latches on and I sigh in relief as he makes me even. "He is your son, after all."
"The Styles men are manly," Harry puffs his chest and laughs.
"True," I grin, beckoning him with my index finger. "You are very manly, Babe,"
Harry's smirk is defined with one dimple as he steps closer. He places his hands on the back of the couch, framing my shoulders.
I raise my hand to his chest, curling my fingers into his shirt and his cross necklace. I pull him down and our lips brush teasingly before he kisses me.
Harry's lips are the perfect combination of tenderness and force.
They are the same lips that profess his love to me, the same lips that lovingly correct me, the same lips that pleasure me and the same lips that have only been on mine.
And will ever be.
Our kiss falls apart naturally and he groans. My eyes flutter open and I see a familiar spark in his eyes.
Even though I can't have things done to me, I plan to ignite that spark into a fire tonight.
"I'll unpack," Harry stands up and clears his throat. "Your parents will be here with Ferris shortly."
"Thank you, Harry. I know, I can't wait to see our baby girl."
"Me too, Love," he slides the duffle bag strap onto his shoulder. "I'll be right back."
Harry makes his way upstairs and I exhale deeply.
Before I can even plot my sweet attack on him for tonight, my attention is brought to my son.
Sebastian is enjoying his lunch again.
Loudly.
I smile softly at his little noises and hold him close to me.
With a sigh, I rest my head back on the couch.
"We're home."***
A/N: Sooo there's the 1st chapter
of TOWO! 🎉🎈💃🏼
I hope you liked it. 😊
For those who read TEWO
when I first published it:
(my deepest apologies, btw)
Have my writing skills improved?
Wait...don't tell me.
Cuz I know I still suck.
Blaaaahhhhh. 😝
I 💗 my readers, commenters & voters more than I could ever say!
Much Love.
❤️❤️❤️❤️