Regretting You

I love you, Harry Styles. That's why I'm leaving. No matter how much I love you, I want you to know that. That isn't the only reason that I'm leaving. I'm pregnant. I couldn't ruin your career by staying, by letting a family tear up the band. I will never forget you, Harry, but you need to forget me. I'm gone. Don't try to find me. I love you.

Isabelle Curran

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32. How do I ask you this?

Isabelle's eyes shot open, and she saw a much more pleasant view that what she saw the last time she woke up; she saw Harry.

"Thank God that you're okay!" Harry gasped, and gently kissed her forehead. She still winced.

"What happened?" She asked, feeling pain all over.

"Brian happened. He broke your left leg, and your right wrist. The doctors did tests to see if the babies were okay.  They'll be able to tell us soon." Harry explained, "You also have severe bruising, and will have to stay here for a bit. They may even want to keep you till you give birth in two months."

"That won't be necessary," a doctor strutted in, "your babies are fine, and you will just have to sign a couple of forms, and then you can leave." Harry shrugged, and put his hands in his jacket's pocket. He sighed, and Isabelle wondered why.

"Is Deja here?" Isabelle questioned Harry. He just nodded, and went to get her.

"How long have I been out?" She asked the doctor.

"Two days. It's the sixteenth. Oh, and the time is," He looked down at his watch, "9:58 PM."

"It's my daughter's birthday." Isabelle exclaimed, "I can't believe that I missed it." She started to cry. Then a nurse pushed in a wheelchair. She helped Isabelle into it, and suddenly Isabelle heard tiny footsteps running towards her. Looking up, she saw Deja, who was wearing a party hat.

"Mommy are you okay?" She wailed, and Harry knelt down, and let Deja sit on his knee. He kissed her cheek, and she stared at Isabelle intently.

"Why are you here?"
"Brian hurt me again."
"I don't like Brian. I thought you said we wouldn't have to see him again."
"I'm sorry, sweetie. I didn't know that he'd be back."

"It's okay, Mommy."

Harry then put down Deja, and started to pushed Isabelle's wheelchair out. They both signed release papers at the front desk, and Harry laughed.

"Are you ready to show the world that you're 'Mystery Girl' and that we're already parents?"

"Of course, as long as you are ready. Why?" Isabelle nodded.

"Because the paparazzi are swarming the place." Harry explained.

"Fuck." She muttered. Harry just laughed. Deja didn't hear. Harry pushed the wheelchair out of the door. Cameras flashed, and reporters asked questions. Deja just clung tightly to Harry's leg.

"Mr. Styles, who is this girl?"
"Is that Mystery Girl?"

"Why is that child hugging you?"
"Is that kid your daughter?"

The questions were relentless.

"Quiet, please!" Harry shouted, "This is Isabelle Curran. Yes, she is Mystery Girl. And this is Deja; my daughter. Isabelle is expecting my twins. And I love her." Harry knelt down on one knee, "And I want her to be my wife." He pulled out a ring.

"How do I ask you this?" He sighed, "We've been through so much. But I want you to be my wife, Isabelle. I love you so damn much, and I want you to be part of my life. Please, will you marry me, Isabelle Curran?"

A/N- What will Isabelle say? Thank you for reading, and please like, favorite, and keep commenting baby names! (Also comment other things if you want!) ;)

 

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