All is Not Fair in Love and High School

Epilogue.

Six years later. 

It was only two months after Harry lost his memory that I found out I was pregnant. Of course I was Harry's baby, and even though that was supposed to be the best time of my life, it was also the worst. 

I spent everyday by his bedside for a couple weeks, while he was in and out of surgery, desperately trying to get him to remember me, or anything for that matter. 

And the worst part is, he asked for Julia. His brain only remembers what happened a year or two before we met, when he was still with Julia. I had to tell her what happened, and she had to tell him all over again she was in love with Niall. 

He was heartbroken, and that's when he kicked me out and told me he never wanted to see me again. I didn't go back after that, because he was going to be let out of the hospital the following day, and god knows where he might have went. 

From time to time I try to find in on social media, but I just feel pathetic, like I'm stalking him or something. I was really depressed for a while, and I think it's partially because I haven't taken me engagement ring off yet. Not once in six years. 

"Momma, Momma! Come look!" Bobby, my son, calls from the other room. His full name is Robert Harry Smith, as of right now, anyway. I never legally got the right to use Harry's last name. 

The part that sucks the most is that he looks exactly like Harry. I wonder if it would have been different, if I had married him that night. I would have stayed, and helped him remember, because I had to, I would have been his wife. 

My Mom bought me a house around the block from the elementary school I went to, so I could start raising Bobby the right way. I also got a job at a nearby coffee shop, and I'm the head manager. The pay is pretty good, enough to get us by, anyway. 

I walk into my son's room and look at the picture he drew on his floor. It's a picture of me and him, and a man in between us. 

"Who's the man, sweetie?" I ask him. "He represents Daddy. I'm not sure what he looks like, but this is what I pictured him to be." He tells me. 

He looks exactly like Harry. Or at least what he used to look like. 

"C'mon Bobby, you have to come with Mommy to work today. Bring some of your toys and put you shoes on, we have to leave so I don't have to be late, okay?" I tell him. 

"Okay Mommy." He smiles and walks over to get his tiny shoes. He slowly slips them on and gathers his favorite toys: an etch-a-sketch, a stuffed monkey, and a yo-yo. I pick him up, bring him out to the car, and strap him into his seat. 

The coffee shop is about fifteen minutes away from our house, and luckily, I arrive two minutes early. I walk in and place Bobby in the little play room in the back. 

I then run and get my apron and put it on. I don't usually make the drinks, unless someone calls in sick, like Kelly did today. After making a few iced coffees, I remember how much I actually like my job. I finish one off with whipped cream and wait for the next customer to step up. 

I can't see his face, but I hear Bobby call my name before he turns around. "Come here, buddy." I tell him and he waddles over. I pick him up and place him on the counter in front of the tip jar. 

The man turns around and I almost faint from shock. 

It's Harry. 

"Hello, may I have a large black coffee with milk and sugar?" He asks me, looking up once. 

"S-su-sure. B-be right back." I say nervously. I make his coffee and hand it to Bobby to give to him. I can't do this, I can't. 

"Here you go, sir." Bobby says and I return to the counter and stand next to him. Harry looks up to thank him and suddenly his eyes narrow, and then go wide when he looks at me.