Song: "The Book of Love" by Peter Gabriel. (This song was used in the series finale of Scrubs and I just loved it. It sounds sad, but it's a very sweet endearing song.)
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Harry and I were sat in a modern conference room at a massive glossy table and seated in plush leather chairs. He was about to close the sale on his old house and I was there for moral support.
His realtor, Cindy, addressed him. "Harry, do you have any further questions?"
"No, I'm all set," he answered calmly. I squeezed his hand.
Another realtor was there, representing the couple buying the house. He addressed Harry as well, asking him before we began, "Mr. Styles, I understand you're the only signer today and that your wife's name isn't on the deed." He nodded towards me and a tiny jolt of joy surged through me at being acknowledged as Harry's wife. Cindy stepped in quietly and murmured to the other realtor, reminding him of the situation with Harry's late wife so Harry wouldn't have to go over the details in such a formal setting. "Ah, yes, I apologize. So, let's begin."
The other couple's names were Brian and Anna. They were just about to get married and as of today, they would be the new owners of Harry's little house in Rosedale Park. They knew nothing of Harry or his history, except his name which was soon be signed on many dotted lines. They didn't know that Harry and I hadn't shared that house and they didn't know why it wasn't my name on the mortgage. They didn't know that we had only gotten married three days prior. They didn't need to know the heartache and lost hope that once resided there. All they needed to know was that their new house represented their future, their hopes and their dreams.
Harry had visited the house one last time, on his own at his request. I could see no better way for him to say good-bye. He didn't need me there. He had me to come home to. And when he did come home, he was somber but not hopeless. His parents had helped to comfort him and they encouraged him. The following day, they left.
In just a few hours' time, the house and its history were behind us. Harry no doubt stored away the best memories in his heart while we both looked forward to creating memories in our new house, if you could even call it new. Regardless of its age, it represented a new future for us as well.
We had gotten married on Valentine's Day, as planned. Everyone who was important to us was able to attend, with the exception of his sister Gemma who couldn't make the trip across the Atlantic on such short notice. She promised she would visit within the year and we would celebrate with her then. Otherwise, our families and friends were present to witness the promises made between Harry and myself to be faithful to one another, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. I think we both felt a twinge of reality in that last part of the vows, knowing that death sometimes does interrupt the vows made at the altar. But neither of us let those words cause fear in our hearts any longer. It was our day for hope and celebration.
We only managed to pull it off in such a short time because, as the old saying goes, many hands make light work. Everyone helped with something, from the church to the cake to the dress to the food at our very informal reception in my loft. We had actually gone out to dinner after the wedding, all twenty of us, and then returned to the loft for more informal celebrating. Instead of a mad rush to plan and subsequent headaches one might expect from planning a wedding in two weeks' time, it all fell together peacefully, another sign to us that we had made the right decision.
Despite the fact that we had just gotten married, Harry and I held off on the actual "consummation" until his parents left, for obvious reasons. When the time came, we were both understandably eager, yet Harry was the most tender and caring he'd ever been, which I believe was due to the fact that I was now carrying his child. He held some sort of new reverence for my body and for me as his wife. When he joined his body with mine, it was a moment of revelation for me especially, but I think for him, too. This was what true lovemaking was supposed to be, uninhibited, totally committed and completely trusting each other. Not that I would trade our own story for anything, but having the assurance of Harry's undying love made in his wedding vows made sex that much more fulfilling. I couldn't imagine if we had shared this before we were married and then things hadn't worked out - I would have been devastated. Again, I was reminded of how blessed I was to have found him, for us to have found each other.
The first month and a half of the new year had been such a crazy whirlwind and now things were settling down to normalcy. A new normal. I kept working at the library, only missing a handful of days when the morning sickness and fatigue were unmanageable. Luckily both subsided by the second trimester and I had most of my regular energy back, only now a little slower as my tummy grew.
Harry was funny, watching my belly grow, especially when I laid in bed and lifted my shirt so he could be as close as possible to the baby. I would lie in our bed and He would lay his head on my chest, or against my tummy if it wasn't too uncomfortable for me. And then he talked to the baby, not in baby talk, but softly saying, "Hey, little guy. Or girl. It's your daddy. I can't wait to meet you." Or sometimes he'd read a story or sing a song. As the baby began to outgrow my body, Harry was beside himself with glee every time he or she moved, placing his hands on my abdomen and feeling for little feet or a bony butt. His love for both of us absolutely made my heart melt.
On September 14, we welcomed a tiny and perfect baby girl with a smattering of red hair on her head. Harry was overjoyed with every single thing about her - from her toes to her nose to her perfect little blue eyes that held just a hint of green. We were hoping they would turn fully green within the year to match daddy's. It was then that I stopped working at the library, not being able to even think about leaving her in someone else's care all day, every day. She was my baby, our baby, and we should be the ones to raise her.
During the pregnancy, I had mentioned to Harry that if he wanted to give her a middle name of Cathryn, I would be okay with that. He decided against it because this was our baby together and although Cathryn's memory would live on in his heart, he wanted this new life to reflect on us as a family. We gave her the name Melody mainly because we both loved music and for no other reason. We chose Hope as her middle name, loving the symbolism of it.
Even when the baby came on the second year anniversary of Cathryn's death, Harry chose not to use her as a namesake. We kept the names we had planned, and so it was that our little Melody Hope Styles brought enormous changes to our lives. One thing we had learned over the past few years was that change was a constant and we would do well to anticipate that things were never going to stay the same for very long.
Gemma had been so gutted that she had to miss our wedding, that she came to stay for a whole month after Melody was born. Between her and my mom, they were my angels since Harry had resumed his last year of law school and he was practically living at the law library.
Harry was an exceptional student and father. It bothered him to put the house renovations on hold, but he definitely made time for the baby and me. At least Melody spent the first several months of her life sleeping so he didn't miss out much on that front. He made sure to spend as much quality time with her as he could when she was awake. Sometimes I would pack up our things and we'd meet him for lunch or dinner somewhere.
When law school was finally over in the spring, we resumed work on the house. As Melody grew, she and I began visiting Daddy at the new house, helping in any ways we could with the renovations. She watched in fascination from her pack and play or from the backpack on my back while we painted and hammered away.
My life was turning out much differently than I had ever expected. I never imagined I would marry someone so strikingly handsome and so amazingly sweet and kind. And I could never have guessed how much I would fall in love with a miniature version of the two of us put together.
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Okay, so I promised an epilogue, but then I realized I didn't write a prologue, so yikes. I feel as if I've summed up pretty well in this chapter and hopefully you won't hate me when I tell you that Harry and Regan's story will be continuing in some way.
This is my new book:
It's a spin-off of The Stacks so you'll still see Harry, Regan and Melody.
Caila Ford is a graduate student who decides to take an extended period of time to research her family's history, starting with the house that her great, great, great, great (that's 4 greats! is there a better way to write that?) grandfather had built, which was now a bed and breakfast owned and run by Harry and Regan Styles. Caila is the cynical sort, watching her parents' marriage crumble, as well as those of her aunts and uncles. Under the pretense of researching family history, Caila is really out to find answers about what caused her family to become so dysfunctional. When she meets handsome Liam Payne, the B&B's handyman, he becomes an unlikely in helping her to find the answers she seeks, but perhaps not in the places she thought she would find them.
So this story will take place largely at Harry & Regan's bed and breakfast so you'll get a glimpse of them along the way. The title, tagline, and synopsis are still a work in progress, and I might tweak the cover, too. But I wanted to let you know a little about what I'm working on. If there's enough interest after this, I plan to continue the saga with books about Louis and Niall as well! :)
Are you interested? Excited?
Also, how do you feel about continuing the slight "paranormal" edge of the story? I'm not into writing ghost and horror stuff, but I feel that some connection with the past will be quite relevant in this story. What do you think?
Finally, I'm digging for a name for the series. I mean, it can't really be The Stacks b/c that's only relevant for the name of the first book. But I want some kind of series title to tie the books together (2 books for now, hopefully 4 in the end). Any ideas?
* * * I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH! THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING! * * *