Two years later...
Today was the day. The day we'd waited for—the day we'd planned for. And I walked with a skip in my step down the Los Angeles streets, happy to be out of my meetings, but happier still to know what awaited me at home.
Streaks of pink, purple, and Madelyn's favorite shade of orange bled into each other at the horizon as I walked to my car. I'd been out longer than I'd thought I would be. But it had been a productive day. An important one. One that set up the next several months of my life.
Our lives.
And now...
"Are you even listening to me?"
I looked at Jeff, walking beside me on my right. "Hm?"
He rolled his eyes even as a smile pulled at the corners of his lips. "Guess I can't blame you." That smile turned into a smirk. "You've got a lot on your mind these days."
"Harry!" a voice screeched, interrupting the one-sided conversation we were having.
I faced forward again to find a young man and woman only a few feet ahead of us where they seemed to be entering a restaurant. He was looking at me like I was rather unimpressive, but she was quite pretty with her long, dark hair in braids, and deep brown skin. It was her great, big, completely incredulous smile that made me slow as we reached them.
"Hello," I said, trying to subdue my own smile when she started hyperventilating.
The young woman grabbed onto the guy's arm with a grip that looked painful, and from the way he tried to shake her off, but couldn't, I had to assume that it was.
"Hi," she said, giggling now with that infectious smile and looking up at me like she was afraid I'd disappear.
"How are you today?" I asked, no longer able to suppress my smile.
She looked at the man beside her with pure excitement flickering in her dark eyes, and even he couldn't keep from grinning at the expression. "It's Harry Styles!" she exclaimed to him.
"I can see that," he said with a wide smile of his own. He met my eye then. "It's good to meet you, man." When he stuck out his hand, I gripped it firmly, giving it a shake.
"It's nice to meet you both."
"Could I get a picture?" the woman exclaimed, still beaming as she slipped her phone out of her pocket.
She was tapping away at it, her whole body shaking in that way that tended to happen to so many fans when I met them, when I asked, "Could I get your name first?"
The look in her eyes then was unmatched as of yet. It was as if I'd just given her ten million dollars, and kissed her afterwards. "Oh my God. Oh my God, oh my God," she nodded then, trying to get a hold of herself, and swallowed, "Keisha." She nodded again, and repeated, "It's Keisha. Sorry, I—I should've said that first."
"No worries," I said with a smirk. "It's nice to meet you, Keisha, and...?"
"Garrett," the man said, still smiling softly, his hand now on Keisha's back.
She was giggling again.
"Garrett," I repeated. "Lovely to meet you both." Jeff cleared his throat pointedly then, in that all too familiar way. "Let's take a picture, shall we?"
Keisha hopped to my side, and was practically bouncing beneath the arm I slung around her shoulders. Gary held her phone up and snapped the photo, and before I could say much more to either of them, another few people had spotted us.
Or me, I suppose.
Some days it felt endless—having to please people. Having to go out of my way to make them happy. Having to let them into my life. But then there were days, like today, where it just felt good, and nothing more than that.
At the ripe old age of twenty-nine, I'd spent the entirety of my adulthood in the public eye—making mistakes, and learning, and trying, and failing, and loving, and losing all for the world to see. And it had never been easy. In fact, it had rarely been easy. And it had only gotten more difficult when I'd tried to date.
When I'd fallen in love.
Things had only grown more complicated when I'd brought Madelyn into the mix, but in terms of my personal life, her presence had only brought me joy. Comfort. Beauty. Even the pain she'd brought me was beautiful in its own way. Distinct in that it was the most excruciating pain I'd ever known. And to have her again afterwards, to know what it was to lose her—well, it had made that pain worth it, and all the more beautiful.
Life with her since, life with her as my wife—it was nothing short of perfection.
And now...
A thrill of excitement shot through me even as people breathed my name, pulled at me, held their phones up in front of my face, passed me around like a cardboard cutout they'd been lucky enough to come across.
But I didn't care. I said hello even if they didn't say it back. I thanked them even if they didn't thank me. I smiled for their pictures because it was easy to smile now. It had been easy to smile for the past several years, but now...
"Harry, you've got to get going," Jeff murmured into my ear.
I finished signing a young girl's phone, and looked at him. He widened his eyes and cocked his head in the direction of my car. I nodded.
"Thanks so much everyone," I said, trying to make eye contact with each of them.
"Harry!"
"Thank you," I repeated, eager once again to get out of here. To get home. "Enjoy the rest of your evening."
"Harry!" someone called then, and for some reason, I stopped. Looked back.
It was Keisha. She was still there, I realized. Still smiling, but looking a little more calm. "Congratulations, by the way."
The smile I always seemed to be wearing now grew to an impossible size. "Thank you." Others offered their congratulations as well, all rushed, all shouted over each other. "Thank you all. It was lovely meeting you."
I waved as Jeff tugged me away, towards my car, and thought about her. My girl. How happy I was. How I'd never imagined happiness or love feeling this way. This intense. This powerful. This all-encompassing. And I couldn't stop grinning.
"Sorry," Jeff said as we walked, reminding me of his presence once again. "I just figured you'd want to get home."
I looked at him, and his lips stretched up, too, and in his eyes I could see all the ways my life had changed. All the time he'd been there to witness it. And a great sense of pride that I was still so grateful for—I always would be.
He chuckled when I grabbed him by the shoulders and squeezed. "You are correct."
And we both chuckled, glancing at each other as we got into my car.
Because today was another day of my life. Another day of being Harry Styles. Another day of being Madelyn's husband. Another day where my life at home, which had once held very little for me in comparison to my life on the road, was more wonderful, more meaningful than I ever could've imagined.
It was hard not to step a little too hard on the gas as I was driving Jeff home. Hard not to hurry him out of the car. Hard not to cut him off when he paused with the passenger side door open to remind me, one more time, that I had to be at the studio by eight a.m. Monday morning. Hard not to tell him to bugger off, I knew what I had to do when I had to do it.
But when he flashed me another knowing smile, and told me to drive safely, it became easy once more to smile. Easy to thank him. Easy to tell him I'd talk to him this weekend.
Easy to appreciate his friendship as I had for so long.
After a quick stop to pick up some dinner, it only took five minutes to get back to mine.
Ours, I reminded myself.
Even nearly two years after our wedding, I still had moments of disbelief, and I'd been having more of those moments for the last several weeks. It was still sometimes unbelievable to me that this was my life. That any one person could feel this happy all the time—feel this fulfilled, feel this satisfied with a life that had nothing to do with money or fame or career successes.
And I hadn't realized how important that would be to me when I was younger. Not the extent of it anyway—how badly I wanted this life, even with the extraordinary one I was already lucky enough to have. There wasn't a dream unrealized. A hope gone unanswered. A whisper gone unheard. And that was in large part due to the extraordinary woman who'd chosen me. The woman who'd made me her husband.
The woman who'd made me a father.
I couldn't get into the house fast enough. Couldn't wait any longer than I already had. An eight hour day was too long, and going forward, the days would only get longer. So these moments, where I could just be home, not have to think about work or the world or anyone but my family—I wanted to have as much of this as I could. I wanted to spend as much time with the two loves of my life as I could. I wanted to make each moment, each second, count.
I set the bags of food down and closed the door quietly, afraid to disrupt the delicate balance we'd been working hard to achieve these last six weeks with my appearance.
And I heard tinkling music—a soft lullaby.
My heart calmed and picked up all at once as I kicked off my shoes, as I padded down the hall and rounded the corner toward the living room. She was sitting on the couch, her hair in a bun, her face clear of makeup, her eyes on our daughter in her arms. Her sweet voice—humming. She was humming.
I stayed quiet, watching. She must've heard me come in, but she clearly hadn't heard me make my way here so quickly because she didn't look up. Only stared at our baby girl, who was suckling at her breast.
Madelyn's blue eyes studied every feature of that little face, that little body. Her fingers touched the soft dark hair on her head as she hummed along to the gentle, tinkling melody playing on her phone. And when she leaned down to press a kiss to our baby's soft skin, I felt my heart cleave in two, only to patch itself together again a moment later.
She looked up then, met my eye. And the way her lips tilted with her smile made everything about me go weak.
I didn't say hello, and she didn't either. We'd both learned the hard way that these moments of quiet, not only were they precious, but they came few and far between. And considering today had been Madelyn's first day alone with our little girl, I was sure she hadn't gotten many of them.
That only became more apparent as I got closer, as the brightness to her eyes seemed weighed down by exhaustion. But even as a spark of worry lit at the edge of the contentment and excitement in my chest, I noted that it was the happy kind of exhaustion, not the frustrated kind.
I kissed her on the mouth when I reached the couch, as I sat beside her, unable to hold myself back despite the very real fear of disrupting Lila during her feeding. But I had to—just as I'd had to countless times over the last six weeks, as I'd adjusted to seeing her not just as the love of my life, but as the mother of my daughter.
She was a mother. I was a father. And God, we were the happiest parents who ever did grace the earth.
"Hi," she murmured, keeping her voice at whisper-level when I pulled away, when she looked into my eyes.
The delirious sort of happiness there kindled the flame of my own.
"Hi," I said back, my hands already at our baby's soft blue onesie. "How're my girls?"
Lila was looking at me with those big, grayish-blue eyes, her mouth still around Madelyn's nipple, suckling contentedly. My finger found her incredibly soft cheek as Mads answered, "Well, one of us is more tired than the other," she said pointedly, grinning down at our little girl fondly. "But we had a good day, didn't we, baby girl?"
Lila's eyes went to Mads then, and the look that passed between them warmed my heart. My chest. My whole being. "I missed you both." Mads looked at me again. "Terribly."
I'd spent every day for the last six weeks, up until today, at home with them. Taking in every moment. Enjoying every bit of it. Even the rough bits. And our parents had spent some time with us as well. Michelle had been here for most of the last two months. And Mum had spent three weeks here right after Lila was born. But we were officially on our own as of two weeks ago, and we'd actually been managing just fine.
Today was the first day Mads and Lila had spent on their own. And I wasn't particularly happy to leave them.
"We missed you, too."
"How was she today?" I asked, eager to know everything I missed.
Mads tilted her head from side to side as she stared at Lila. "This is the only way I can get her quiet when she's not sleeping, so... same as always."
"My fussy girl," I said, touching her little foot, wrapped up by the soft material of her onesie. "Weren't you good for Mummy?"
Lila's eyes were on me again, round and aware—like she knew and understood exactly who I was and what I was saying.
"How are you?" Mads asked, resting her head against the cushion behind her, those incredible blue eyes on me. "How was it?"
I blew out a breath, thinking back to the day of meetings. The day she'd insisted I couldn't miss.
"Good," I said, still watching our daughter, desperate to catch up on the time I'd missed. "We're all set to start filming on Monday."
Mads smiled a sleepy smile. "That's great."
I glanced at her, debating whether or not to say it. To ask again when she'd already reassured me dozens upon dozens of times. When she was the one who had insisted I couldn't pass up this opportunity.
"Everyone sends their best," I said, thinking of the crew, the other actors, most of whom I'd only just met today. "Chris said you and Lila are welcome on set anytime, of course."
Mads breathed a laugh. "I'm sure he'd rethink that if he heard her scream."
I couldn't deny that I was excited for this new project—an action-packed thriller penned by Chris Nolan, in which I'd be starring alongside Cillian Murphy, and up-and-coming actress Vanessa Unger. It was a project and a character I was eager to sink my teeth into, and I was grateful to Chris for asking me to do it, and even more grateful to Mads for insisting that I had to, even after we'd found out she was pregnant and that the start of filming would be so soon after the baby was born. But now...
Now that Lila was here, now that I had my little family to worry about, I wasn't so sure that it was our best idea. I toyed with Lila's foot as her mouth slowed on Madelyn's breast, already missing her, already hating that the majority of the next four months would be spent away from her, already fearful of what I'd miss.
But that was why we'd come out here, Mads had been saying. So that I wouldn't miss anything. When we found out that Chris intended to film most of it in L.A. because a lot of it would be filmed by green screen, the choice had simplified.
"We'll go to L.A. before the baby's born," Mads had said, running her hands over her small bump at the time. "We'll just set up there so that when she comes, we won't have to worry about moving or getting on a plane or you being away from us too long or anything."
I'd still been wary, even though that suggestion (and the execution since) had certainly made things simpler. So Mads had grabbed onto my face, smiled up at me, and said, "This is part of your dream, Harry. This is part of your career. And since I won't be teaching for a while before and after the baby's born, there's no reason this can't work."
"But what about you? I don't want to leave you alone to take care of her, and we'll be away from family, and—"
"I'll be fine," Mads had insisted with a smile, her hands going back down to her belly. "You know our moms are going to be here as often as they possibly can. And when they're not, I'm sure Emily will be out to see her. And Gem. And even if I do have a rough day, it's not like you won't be home at night. That's the beauty of this situation."
It had been hard to argue with that, and considering the fact that I really did want to be a part of the project, and the fact that Mads had seemed so sure, so insistent, I'd told Chris I'd do it.
But now that it was here, now that I was staring at our baby girl in Madelyn's arms, looking ahead at the time I'd have to spend away from both of them, I was second guessing that decision.
Mads looked down at the baby again, whose eyes were clearly growing heavy. "She hasn't slept as much as usual again today," Mads said, keeping her voice at whisper level as Lila's eyes fell closed and her mouth slowed. "I called Dr. Ramos about it, and she said that's normal for her age. Something about sleep regression at around six weeks." Mads rubbed at an eye with the heel of her hand. "And she also said six weeks is typically when the colic is at its worst, so there's a silver lining."
Poor Lila had been suffering with colic almost since the start. Dr. Ramos had assured us that it wasn't acid reflux, but with the way Lila sometimes screamed, Mads and I had still been concerned.
Just regular old colic, was the doctor's professional determination.
"You know what else six weeks means..." I said, keeping my voice low and letting my hand find the back of Madelyn's head to toy with a loose strand of hair.
Her eyes found mine with a smile, but she kept her voice just as low when she said, "I've been thinking about it all day."
She'd had her six-week check up yesterday and been given the okay, making today the day. The day we'd looked forward to these last six weeks. And I'd missed her.
We smiled at each other for a moment, imagining the night ahead, and I knew without having to say a word what she was thinking: we were both hopeful Lila would have a good night so that we could.
Mads gasped a little when Lila's eyes fell closed and didn't open again right away. Since it was already past seven, the timing couldn't have been more perfect, and I was grateful for the first time that Lila had spent a good deal of the day awake. Madelyn's eyes were wide as she stared down at our little bundle, whose mouth fell away from her breast mid-suck it seemed, as milk dribbled down Mads' nipple.
I reached for her, plucking the sleeping Lila from Madelyn's arms as gently as I could so that Mads could situate herself. And as it was every time, I was shocked by how small she was, how tiny and perfect and warm her little, pink body was in the crook of my arm. How my love for her felt like a wave that never crashed. A wave that only grew higher and higher each time I looked at her, undulating with a current of happiness that made the surface of it ripple.
"It's probably a good idea to burp her," Mads murmured softly as she let her shirt fall, as she studied the sleeping baby in my arms. "She was singing quite a bit today."
Carefully, trying my best not to jostle her too much, I lifted Lila upright, pressed a kiss to the side of her head, feeling her small body mold to my hands as I held her up to my shoulder. The palm of my hand covered her back as I patted it gently, as she gurgled a little bit over my shoulder, as Mads paused in her movements of picking up the bottle and blankets she'd had situated in her lap, and stared, eyes wide.
I felt my eyes go just as wide. But when Lila did nothing but burp against my shoulder, her cheek resting against it, we both smiled, and tried not to laugh.
It was magical. That was the only way to describe it. Every day with Mads had been special, but now that we had Lila, the days were so spectacular, we both found ourselves pinching each other in jest, just to make sure it was all real.
Of course, Lila's "singing" as we'd come to call it (Just like her dad, Mads had said with pride), always brought us right back down to earth. But in these quiet moments, when we were able to take in and fully appreciate the beauty of what we'd created, the beauty our little girl had brought to our lives, it was hard to believe it wasn't all a dream.
It helped that we'd been able to keep this largely to ourselves, that we'd been able to adjust to the new addition in private. That had been important to Mads and to me, considering much of our relationship had been broadcast for the world to see.
Thankfully, the why's and how's of our years apart had never fully gotten out. It had been enough for them to know of Madelyn's previous engagement, of her relationship with Rob, of the way we'd come back together. It was enough for them to know now that we were married, that we were in love, and that Lila had been born healthy.
Beyond that, this time was ours. And it was important to both of us that it remained that way, so we hadn't taken the baby out more than a handful of times, and only for doctor's appointments and the odd run to the store. Other than that, we brought her out into the backyard so that we could all get some fresh air, leaving me thankful for the wonderful Los Angeles weather, even if the culture had prevented us from enjoying our time outside otherwise.
After holding Lila for quite some time as she slept, trying to make up for the day I'd missed, Mads and I had a quick dinner of Chinese takeaway while Lila slumbered in the bassinet we'd taken to carrying from room to room with us. I filled her in a little bit more on my day and the logistics of the next several weeks, and she filled me in a little bit more about the day she and Lila had had. How it had been scary at first, but worth it by the end.
"I can do this," Mads said when we were leaning over our empty plates, her eyes on our daughter still sleeping in the bassinet just a few feet away. "I know I can."
I grabbed her hand, pressed a kiss to it, and waited until she met my eye before saying, "I know you can, too."
There wasn't a doubt in my mind. Since the moment Lila had come into the world, it was like Madelyn had known exactly what to do at every turn. It was shocking to see her become a mum. Shocking and gratifying. Because it was like she was born to be one. It was like she'd been waiting too long a time to become one. And in some ways, she truly had.
Watching Mads become a mum had changed my love for her—not in a way that lessened it, but in a way that strengthened it. Because she changed when Lila was born, and I had the privilege of falling in love with her all over again every day since.
She smiled then, but didn't say anything more, and I was just about to ask what was going through her mind before she said, staring at the plates, "I should get this cleaned up."
"Sit," I said, and stood before she could. "I've got it."
Mads smiled up at me as I took our plates. "This is why I married you," she teased.
I grinned as I headed for the sink. "I thought you married me for my perfectly round bum?" I did my best to set the dishes into the sink as noiselessly as possible. But it was already quite full, so there was enough of a clatter that I winced and glanced at the still-sleeping baby.
"If I recall correctly," Mads said, keeping her voice low. "That's why you married me."
I paused like I had to think about it. "Oh, that's right."
Mads giggled, her chin propped up on the hand that was gripping the back of her chair as she looked at me. And that sound—it was the most beautiful sound in the world.
"Why don't you take Lila up to bed? I don't want to wake her."
Mads gave a long sigh and stood, the exhaustion clear in her movements. But she was still smiling. "Kay. I'm going to shower anyway." She grabbed the bassinet, hauling Lila along with her as she rounded the kitchen counter, as she sidled up next to me.
I hadn't turned the water on yet, afraid to start while Lila was still down here, but I was even more glad of it when Mads stopped just beside me, a wicked tilt to her lips as she whispered, "Don't keep me waiting too long."
I'd never washed the dishes faster in my life.
So fast, in fact, that I made it up to our bedroom to find the door to the bathroom cracked open, the shower still running, and Lila sleeping away in her crib.
I slipped out of my trousers first thing, then yanked my shirt off, considered letting both fall to the floor before remembering Madelyn's disdain for me every time I ignored the hamper sitting in our corner, so I made a point of heading for it and dropping the clothes in.
Then, I made my way over to my sleeping girl, and pulled our rocking chair up to her crib, perching at the edge to look at her. To watch the way her chest rose and fell, the way her small fingers curled in against her palms. The way her little lips parted. The way her face relaxed in sleep.
Lila Jane Styles. My little girl.
She'd come into our world like a force to be reckoned with—screaming her head off. And she hadn't really stopped since. While it was exhausting, it also made me ridiculously proud. As if her screaming was something that deserved recognition. Something that deserved to be celebrated. Something that told us a little something about her, at a time when she couldn't tell us herself—
Lila Jane Styles wasn't one to be ignored or forgotten.
And God, I loved her. Even now, with the same quality and intensity of love I'd felt the moment I'd first laid eyes on her—an impossible amount, one that had nearly brought me to my knees, and at the very least, had made me cry. I loved her so much, I was sure I'd explode. But my heart seemed to know exactly what to do to accommodate it. Rather than burst, it had simply grown, let all that love find a place to go, different caverns to fill. And it had existed there ever since, never dimming, never lessening, only growing more and more.
It had found a home there—she had found a permanent home in my heart.
Arms slipped around my shoulders, and the warmth of Madelyn's skin, plus the scent of her shampoo, wrapped around me. Her hair was wet, and the coolness of it tickled the skin of my shoulders and neck, but I gripped her closer, still studying our sleeping daughter.
"Have I told you how much my heart aches when you do this?" she murmured, kissing the side of my neck.
"What?" I said, the touch of a smile already on my lips.
"Watch her every night. Like you can't take your eyes off her." Her hands slid over my collar bones for a tighter hug.
I reached up, grabbed one, squeezed. "Well, I've got to do something while you take ages in the shower." Mads slapped me lightly. "Ow." We both giggled.
"Can't help it," I said, breathless, but serious again. "She's so beautiful."
When Mads' arms tightened again, when she stayed quiet, I murmured, "She looks so much like you."
Her dark hair, those still-gray, but hinting at blue eyes, the little nose...
"She has your lips," Mads said, touching hers to the crook of my neck. "And your ears." She nibbled one a little bit, and I felt it straight down to my stomach. "And your eyes," she said, her hands skimming the top of my chest.
"My eyes?" I asked, my voice cracking a bit. "Hers are blue."
"No, they're not," she said with a breath of a giggle. "They're green."
I turned around in my seat, ready to argue a bit more, when my eyes went wide. "Jesus, Mads."
She grinned and stepped back so that I could take her in fully, and I gulped when my eyes trailed down to her legs and back up.
"You like it?"
There weren't words. She was in a mere slip of shimmering gold fabric, which flowed out beneath her breasts. It was sheer everywhere save for her panties, which were a deeper shade of gold.
I stood up. "L-like it?" I stammered, all the more excited now. "You look..."
She looked pleased when I couldn't continue.
And then, because it had been so long since we'd done this, because I was so excited and also slightly nervous, I blabbered on, "But you... you didn't have to do this. You didn't have to—"
"Harry," she said, stepping closer, keeping her voice low for the baby's sake, but little did she know how much it was turning me on. Only when she was right in front of me, the tip of her finger trailing down my chest, did she continue, "I appreciate the sentiment, and I love you for it. But it's been months since I've felt this sexy. Just... let me have it, okay?"
All at once, I understood, and I gripped her by the hips, pulled her a little closer to me. There was a spark of delight in her eyes. "Okay," I said, and leaned closer, close enough to touch my lips to the spot beneath her ear, and I felt her shiver. "But for the record," I murmured, staying close to her ear, fingering the fabric of her little nightie. "It hasn't been months since I've found you sexy."
When I pulled away, her eyes had glazed over a bit.
"Saying it's been a few minutes might even be a bit too generous."
It got her giggling, and when she giggled, everything in my world was right.
I pulled her close, kissed her thoroughly, and walked her back towards the bed, taking my time, pressing lingering kisses to her skin, letting my hands rediscover her body, taking in all the new aspects of it—like the soft, still sort of loose skin of her lower belly, and the stretch marks smattered across it. She grabbed a fistful of my hair after I'd littered them with kisses, and pulled my lips to hers. I let her take over for a bit, letting her hands roam over my body now, until soft sighs and short breaths were all that could be heard in the expanse of our room.
When we were at the point where I reached for a condom (Mads had chosen not to start taking her birth control again since she was breastfeeding), I whispered in her ear, "We've got to be quiet. Wouldn't want to wake the baby."
It was a challenge as much as it was a warning, and when I saw that glint in her eyes, I knew she was just as ready to take it on as I was. "Then you better keep your voice down," she said.
I chuckled, kissed her, deeply enough that she was grabbing me, spreading her legs, guiding me toward her. I slid in slowly, afraid to hurt her like I had been our first time all those years ago, but she grunted anyway. When I pulled back to assess her reaction, she was wincing, even as I was gasping, dizzy from the feeling of having her wrapped around me—of coming home—for the first time in months.
Alarm pinged through me like a dousing of cold water at the sight. My voice was tight, but I managed to ask, "D'you want me to—"
"Don't say stop," she breathed, her eyes flashing up at me. "Don't you dare stop."
When she pulled me in for another kiss, I couldn't help myself—I rocked into her. Slowly. Carefully. As gently as possible. Over and over and over again. Until we were both panting, sweaty, trying to keep quiet as we kissed, as we moved together, trying to breathe as inaudibly as possible.
"I missed you," she breathed, her hands moving from my arms to my shoulders to my back. "God, I missed you."
I couldn't speak, could only focus on the task at hand. And it made the whole experience more special, more enjoyable, more intimate because we had to be so careful—for her and for fear of waking the baby. We were totally aware of the other, and when I could see that she was enjoying it more than it was paining her, I sped up, bringing us both to the edge.
Her fingers tightened on my arms as I sent her over, the point of connection surely much more sensitive for her, because I could tell it was all it took for her to keep from crying out. Release rolled into me not long later, and I felt myself heat and twitch inside her as the echoes of her orgasm clenched around me.
I saw fucking stars before the end of it.
We were both breathing heavily when it was over, looking into the other's eyes in wonder, because this had been different in more ways than one. We knew what it was now—to create another life from the love we shared between us. We fully appreciated how special it was. And how difficult it was not to have this, even for so short a time.
"I missed you," I said when I could speak again, using my thumb to swipe her hair away from her sweaty brow before I touched my lips to hers.
And I continued kissing her as I slid out, as I rolled to her side, felt her turning to face me, the heat of her body a line against the side of mine. She tangled her leg with mine, and I felt the moist heat of her in another way, too.
"You're ready to go again, aren't you?" I said, still panting, against her lips, unable to keep from chuckling.
Mads nibbled at my lip, keeping hers against mine as she said, "We have a lot of time to make up for."
I chuckled, ready and willing to see to her needs until I was ready again—I brought my fingers to the apex of her thighs, and her mouth fell open. "What do you think Lila would say if she knew what her parents were up to mere feet away from her?" I asked in a whisper.
Mads was gasping again, hardly able to keep her eyes open. I kissed her jaw. "If she were able to understand—" she gasped, grabbed my wrist, and my mouth was on her throat now as I kept my fingers moving. "Shit—" she breathed, then let out a soft moan. "She—she wouldn't be in this room."
Chuckling again, I kissed my way down her throat, her chest, her stomach, my way of thanking the body I'd always loved, the body that had nurtured and protected my daughter for nine months. The body that had delivered her safely to me--to us--just six weeks ago.
I removed my fingers only when my mouth hovered over her. She was wriggling, staring down at me—eager. I grinned from between her thighs. "She still is, so... don't make a sound."
Mads bit her lip, lust, amusement, and frustration warring in her eyes. But when I brought my mouth down to her and she gasped, I knew my tongue had effectively ended the battle.
___
Feels upon feels upon feels upon feels. THAT'S what this chapter is, okay???
Hi, lol, I know it's been a couple weeks. Hope you're all well, and hope you enjoyed this chapter! Where writing the first one was like pulling teeth, this one was SUCH. A. JOY. In so many ways :) And I'm so happy with the way it turned out. Hope you are, too! Please don't forget to vote and/or comment to let me know what you think!
But anyway, remember I told you that this story would be structured a little differently than the first two? This is what I meant :) Going forward, we'll be alternating between Maddie's and Harry's POV's--partly because I didn't want to lose either of their voices for this story, and mainly because I think the storyline will be all the more compelling framed this way. And to spare you from any further confusion, Maddie's POV will be picking up from where it left off in the first chapter (right after the wedding), and Harry's will pick up from here. With Lila Jane Styles and his new film :)
So to recap--Maddie's POV will always be two years in the "past" and Harry's will be the "present." Make sense? Hope so! Even if it doesn't, you'll see more of what I mean as we get further into the story anyway :)
This is a new sort of challenge for me, as over the course of the story, I'll be weaving the two storylines together. So strap yourselves in, cause we've got a lot of ground to cover! And I CAN'T WAIT!
And just to remind you, for now, I don't know if I'll be able to post next week. I'll do my best, but with all I have going on at the moment, it might not work out. Please, please bear with me :) I've got a lot on my plate! But hopefully this chapter was worth the wait for you!!!
Love you all soooooo much. Thank you for reading, and I can't wait to read your comments, and I'm SO excited for where this story's headed! Until next time. xx