The state I'm in COMPLETED

Same old same old

Having the Styles' approval was a huge confidence boost, and Harry seemed over the moon that his family liked me. Seeing how close they were, how supportive and loving, helped me understand why he was so attached to them. For the first time in a while, things seemed to be falling into place. Maybe—just maybe—there was a silver lining in all of this.

Harry and I were better than ever. The storm had finally passed, and everything felt normal again. He'd visit the baby at the clinic every day and return with a million photos, showing us every tiny movement his son made. Meanwhile, I spent my days at uni preparing for the new semester with Rose. His family would drop by whenever they came to see the baby, and our afternoons were ours. We talked for hours, laughed, did everything normal couples do.

I cherished every moment.

I loved his attention.
I loved giving him mine.
I craved his kisses, his touch...his love.

For the first time in my life, I felt like the luckiest person alive.
Like there couldn't possibly be another person on Earth feeling what I felt for him.
But then again, I was just a nineteen-year-old girl—what the hell did I know?

The honeymoon phase couldn't last forever. Harry's days off were over, and he had to go back to work. Reality was knocking. It wasn't just about him anymore—he had responsibilities, a son to provide for. Sure, his father had covered the clinic bills against his will, but Harry still had a long road ahead. Divorce lawyers were expensive, and knowing how these things went, it could take months—if not years—to finalize. It weighed on him, and I knew it.

When it was finally time for him to leave, the apartment felt heavier. Even Rose seemed affected, standing at the door with a rare frown on her face as he packed up most of his things, leaving only a few behind "just in case."

"You kinda grew on me," she admitted, her usual sarcasm laced with genuine sadness.

We agreed to see each other as much as possible—he'd come back every other day, spend weekends here, or I'd visit him whenever I could. It was the best we could do.

On the morning of his last day, Harry was anxious.
More anxious than I'd ever seen him.

And I understood why.

That day was the last time he'd visit his son in a controlled environment.
The last time he'd see him under the care of nurses, in a setting where he still had some control.
By tomorrow, the baby would be at Nadia's parents' house. If Harry wanted to see him, he'd have to step into enemy territory.

Lucy had already warned me—whenever he went to their house, they would shred him apart. Insinuate he was a terrible father. That he didn't care. That he wasn't man enough to be responsible. It didn't matter that he visited the baby every single day. That he paid for all the baby's furniture, all the necessities. It didn't even matter that his father had taken care of the hospital expenses.

To them, it would never be enough.

And there was one thing Harry could do to make things easier.
Break up with me.
But he wouldn't.

"Come with me to the clinic, baby," Harry whispered, his warm breath tickling my ear as we lay tangled together in bed.

I froze.
Was he serious?

"Are you out of your mind?" I pulled back to face him. "I'd love to see your son, but I'm not going to start a war. It would be wrong for me to be there. Nadia just gave birth—it would be insensitive, and you know it."