It was the day of Harry's debut fashion show. I didn't go, obviously. It was my choice of not going because 1) paparazzi, 2) thin models, 3) attractive men, and 4) fashion shows bore me. Besides laying in bed, at the cabin was the life for me at the moment. Gemma was looking after me—Harry's orders. She was in the kitchen popping some popcorn. We were having a girls night. Watching corny romantic films all day.
Gemma walked back in with a large red bowl of popcorn. I breathed in the aroma of melted butter. "I am the best popcorn popper in the world," she says with a mouthful of buttery popcorn. She sits beside me, the large bowl in front of us. We scanned through Netflix and found the perfect film; P.S. I Love You. I read the book, but never saw the film. I pressed play. Just as the movie was about to begin Gemma took the remote and paused it.
"Can I just say something?" She says quickly.
"I'm going to be an aunt."
I nod, and said: "Yeah."
Gemma smiles. Small dimples imprinting into her cheeks. "Awesome! I'm going to be an aunt." She says mostly to herself.
She flicks her hair over her shoulder, and does this little happy dance while sitting down. I can't believe that this is actually happening. I wanted to watch the film. But my mind wandered off to the fact that I am carrying and nurturing a baby. Mine and Harry's baby. Our baby.
When the movie finished, Gemma fell asleep beside me. I brushed my hand over my stomach constantly. Singing the lullaby dad used to sing to me. A simple hum that carried a soft tune in the air. "If you can hear me," I whispered to my stomach. "You're going to be loved by so many. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you."
The next morning, I woke up to my face being attacked in sweet kisses. My eyes fluttered opened to see the wonderful pair of green eyes smiling at me. "Morning my Mara. Sleep well?" Harry curled closer to me, chest touching chest. His arm wrapped loosely across my waist. I stretched my arms out, and wrapped them around his neck. My fingers twirling in his brown ringlets. "I slept very well. Where's Gemma?" I asked realizing she wasn't here anymore. "Boyfriend," Harry simply answered. Harry place his hand on top of my grey t-shirt. He lifted the hem of my tee and placed his cold hand on top of it. The coldness made the hairs on my back go up. Harry circles his hand multiple times like he was doing some pregnancy voodoo.
Harry scoots lower down the bed, till his head reached my stomach. I can feel his hot breath against my skin. My hand playfully tangled in his long mess of curls. "Hello in there," Harry cooed out. "I'm your daddy." He says in a hush tone. He puckers his lips and kisses near my belly button. "I'm going to be your dad," Harry says more towards himself. He looks up at me. His green eyes shining in morning light like a flame igniting inside.
"I love you," he mouths at me.
I look down and smile. "I love you too."
After a bath, we got ready to go to Anne's house. We still haven't told his parents yet. I am so scared how they were going to react. Gemma was excited to become an aunt, but his parents are the ones going to be grandparents. I still haven't told my dad.
With the phone up to my ear, I was calling him. It was a few minutes to Harry's parents house. I wanted to get it off my chest. Harry said that we could tell him tomorrow, but I was too stubborn. I couldn't wait. On the fourth ring, dad's raspy voice echoed on the other end. I took a deep breath and counted to six. We started off our conversation of how things have been. His lady friend, moved in with him. I was happy for him. He finally found someone he could love at last; after so many years.
When it came to the reason why I called, I held onto Harry's hand. "Dad there's something you need to know." He listens silently on the other line. "I'm pregnant," I whispered to the phone. There was a silence and I panicked that my dad probably fainted. I hear a loud sigh. "How are you feeling sweetie?" Dad asks me. I'm taken by surprise at his reaction. Mellow and calm. And his question—nobody asked me how I felt towards the pregnancy. They congratulated me for the great news. Not my plans or feeling towards it. "I feel—odd. I'm twenty one and feel like those bad girls on MTV. I feel like I let myself down, let you down." I was saying this in front of Harry. I never told him about this. I can feel his hand tightly squeeze mine.
Dad tells me about having my own decisions. That if I'm not ready—I should abort or give in to adaption. But, I wouldn't bring myself to do it. I made this child with Harry. The baby will features of him. I didn't want someone else to see or love our baby. Dad then asks how's Harry feeling toward this. "Harry? He's happy—ecstatic. He's going to be there 100%. Right?" I turn my attention to him and he nods his head continuously—a wide grin on his lips. When I see his house from afar, I tell dad that we still needed to tell Harry's parents. He wishes me luck and clicks on me. I rub my hands together. I'm so nervous.
Anna and Rob are waiting for us at the door. I tightly squeeze Harry's hand, making it go from pink to red. “Baby, everything is going to be fine,” he whispers. I look up at him—he gives me a reassuring smile. I let out a large breath before Anne took me in her arms. We were having chicken fajitas for dinner, Harry's favorite. I helped Anne in the kitchen while Harry and Rob talked in the living room. I helped by shredding the chicken breasts—I breathed in the aroma of raw chicken and my stomach turned. I ignored it. Till it happened again. I don't know what was going on. I swallowed hard and drank some water.
During dinner, I was excited to taste the chicken fajitas. I served myself a good amount along with a Cesar salad. I sat next to Harry. I took a large mouthful of chicken and munched on it. When I swallowed it, something in my stomach turned, and was going up my throat. I jolted up from my chair, and ran up the stairs. My hand covering my mouth from spilling any food continents. I slammed the bathroom behind me and puked everything I ate since the morning, even the fajitas. After puking everything out, I sat against the wall in front of the toilet. My eyes filled with tears and forehead all sweaty. There was a soft knock on the bathroom door. I let out a shaky, “come in.” The door cracked open, and Harry walked in. He took a seat beside me, taking me onto his lap. He cradled me for a moment. Brushing the hair away from my face and humming softly.
“I told them,” he confessed quietly.
I stopped sniffling.
“They're kind of happy. Ecstatic for the new baby coming onboard.”
“Really?” I questioned.
Harry nods. “Mum sort of knew toward your actions with the raw chicken.”
I laugh and Harry laughs as well.
“I told you it wasn't going to be bloody,” Harry whispers near at my ear.
After dinner, Anne and Rob wanted to talk to us about some options we have. But even though Harry and I already decided we were going to keep and raise the baby. Anne suggested that we move back in the house. The cabin will still be ours after the baby's birth. Just for the safety of me. On our way back to the cabin, I was in a more happy mood. Everything I thought was going to wrong, turned to be the opposite.
In the room, Harry and I laid under the covers—our naked bodies touching skin to skin. Legs intertwined, breathes filling the silence of the room, and moonlit rays peeking its way into the blinds. My head rested on his chest. Harry played with my hair, humming a nursery rhyme. “I've always dreamt of having a baby,” he spoke suddenly. I traced the birds on hi chest and stood silent. “With someone I was most intimate with. Someone I really wanted to be with and love for the rest of my life. My Mara,” he whispered. My name filling around the four walls. “I'm grateful that person is you.”
It is finally the end!
Thank you all you have read it, it means so much.
I won't be posting the sequel anytime soon. At this moment, I'm
focusing on my new fic, Love, Harry. Please read it.
Thanks again. All the love!!