The furniture had arrived just a few days later and all the boys had helped put it in place. They tossed out the old sofa and my old mattress and brought in the new ones. They had also gone out to buy new sheets and pillows, which I greatly opposed to, yet ended up accepting post Zayn's begging.
The apartment looked so different once they were done.
"I really owe you guys," I told them, sitting on the new sofa and relishing how comfortable it was.
"Just keep that little soccer player healthy and we're even," Niall tells me as he searches my refrigerator for food.
Louis sits next to me and snakes an arm around me so that his hand is resting on my still unnoticeable belly. "I agree. But what if it's a girl? How about a cheerleader? That would be nice."
"We should make a bet. I say ten dollars it's a girl," Harry jumped in.
"I'm in," Zayn said, sitting on the other side of me.
I smiled up at him. "Is it wrong to bet on the sex of a baby?" I asked him.
"Nah, I don't think so."
"I think it's a girl, too. I guess she could play on a girl's team," Niall said.
I laughed, looking at Louis. "What do you want to bet?"
He thought for a moment. I could feel his thumb rubbing up and down my stomach. "I have to agree. You look like the type to have a girl."
"Yeah?"
"No. It's a boy," Liam said, looking me dead in the eyes. What shocked me the most was that he was smiling.
I guess we'll find out in a few months.
Zayn had come over a few days later to make sure I was alright. He'd been busy and unable to visit, but he continued to call and text relentlessly.
He came over on Christmas Eve.
"I want you to come live with us," he said as I let him in the house.
My eyes widened. "Have you lost your mind?"
Zayn shut the door behind him and looked at me. He was serious. "The boys and I talked it over. They think it's a great idea. You're living here all by yourself with no one to watch over you. And soon we're going to have to tell the press what's going on. They'll eat you alive here."
I took a deep breath to stop myself from lashing out. "No, Zayn. I don't want to live with you guys. It's not right."
"It is right. Please don't get angry. I just want to keep you close."
"Zayn, I don't want that. I can take care of myself. Really."
He sat in the kitchen and his head dropped into his hands. "Please. I'm begging you. It would give us all some peace of mind."
I bit my lip. I had to compromise. I promised. I shook on it. "I'll come live with you when you're ready to tell the press. Until then, I can take care of myself."
"What's a few days, Riley, really?" he asked. He looked so stressed it made me stress out as well. But I was going to stand my ground. I was not going to be a push over, even if that did make me stubborn.
"Exactly. Take it or leave it, Zayn."
He sighed. "Fine. Fine. But you are moving in," he said.
I nodded. "Yeah."
Zayn's phone vibrated and he looked down at it. "I need to go. I'll come back later, alright?"
I watched him shrug his jacket back on. He walked by me and kissed the top of my head before he disappeared through the door.
Zayn had been gone over an hour and I sat thinking of what I'd told him. I didn't want to move out of my apartment, but what he'd said was right. The press and the fans would find me and there was no way of knowing what they'd do to me when they did. I'd never get to leave the house. Zayn would never get in.
I sat at the edge of my bed and thought. Is there no way of getting out of this? Just as I was about to lay down to take a nap, I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen, making me sit straighter than I had before. What the hell?
The pain had gone just as it had come, so I decided to ignore it. I laid down and tried to get into a more comfortable position when I felt it again in the same spot it had been before. It left me breathless, fearing not only for myself, but for the life of my baby. I could not be having a miscarriage.
I stayed there, praying for the pain to subside, but it just continued, some pains sharper than others, until I was crying. I reached for my phone and looked for Zayn's number but quickly went back and dialed another.
He picked up on the second ring. "Hey, sweet pea."
"Louis can you please come over?" I cried, trying to mask the fear in my voice.
"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, clearly concerned.
"Please just come over. Don't tell Zayn," I continued to cry. "I told him I could take care of myself."
I heard some shuffling. "Calm down. I'll be there in five. Just relax, okay? Everything is going to be fine."
I pressed end and dropped my phone near my pillow. I prayed that he'd hurry.
And he did. Louis burst in through the door three minutes later. But he wasn't alone.
Zayn ran up to the side of my bed and pushed my hair back from my face. "What's wrong?"
"I told you not to tell him," I cried, looking over at Louis.
He wiped the tears from my eyes. "I'm sorry. He made me tell him."
"What's wrong, Riley?" Zayn asked again, his eyes more worried than I'd ever seen them.
Another sob escaped my lips. "It hurts." I pointed to my abdomen. "Right here."
In a second I was in Zayn's arms being carried to his car. Louis got into the driver's seat and stepped on it. Zayn held me in the back seat.
"You're going to be fine," Zayn said, and it sounded like he was saying it more to himself than to me.
Louis pulled into the Emergency Room and Zayn carried me out while Louis parked his car. Once inside, I was swarmed by nurses and doctors, all trying to find out what had gone wrong with me.
But just like wildfire, I saw cameras. It wasn't the paparazzi that had stolen my freedom. It was the fans.
About an hour later, Zayn and Louis were driving me to their apartment. The doctors had found nothing. The baby was healthy and so was I. He just told me to rest, that it was most likely the stress that was getting to me.
I looked out the window. Zayn would never let me live it down how he'd left me for an hour and that had happened.
The world knew about me. People would ask questions and get answers. It'd be on the news how Zayn and Louis had to rush a pregnant Jane Doe to the Emergency Room. And I'd never be normal again.