Knocked Up II. [Harry Styles]

Chapter 24

I woke up at 4 am by Ivy crying on her monitor. It took me some seconds to get up and go to her nursery. I'm a mom. I remind myself as I get up. When I arrived, Harry was already there, rocking her in his arms. I stay by the door, looking at him. He turns his head, I think he heard my steps.

"Hey." He says quietly with a raspy voice. "You can go back to sleep. I take the shift."

He continues rocking her softly, making shooshing sounds.

Instead of going back to my room, I step inside. He looks at me while I make her a bottle. When he finally calms her, I give the bottle to him.

I sit down on a sofa, he stays on his feet while he feeds her. She likes to be held while one is standing up.

I look at him, I'm not mad at him anymore. I had time to think last night when I was alone in my room. I feel for him. This must be hard for him, too. He has the struggle of being the dad of two young babies, and then, the boyfriend of a girl that doesn't remembers anything. It must be hard, to carry all of this on his shoulders. I want to support him, if something is bothering him I want to help him, but it's hard if I don't know the background of the story. I figured it doesn't matter, whatever it is, I should trust him. 

If he is telling me not to worry, I should trust him.

I wait for him to put Ivy back on her crib, completely asleep. I stand up then, looking down at her. She is so beautiful, I still can't believe we made her.

"Let's go back to sleep, we still have a couple hours for Jack to wake up." He whispers, I nod my head.

We exit her room and close the door on our back. I stand there, feeling the sudden coldness of this time of the early afternoon. I hug my belly, rubbing my hands on my arms. I look at him, we both are waiting for the other to say something. He speaks first.

"I'm sorry." He says, in a low voice. "I shouldn't have yelled at you. I was angry and took it out on you. It's not your fault."

I smile at him, resting my weight on the wall. I reach for his hand, holding it.

"It's okay. I understand, I guess." I say, moving my thumb on his hand. It's cold.

"And I'm sorry, for blaming your memory. It's also not your fault." He says, moving his eyes down.

I move a step closer to him, I move my hand to his face making him look at me. His eyes look so clear green, so gentle. He rests the weight of his head on my palm and I caress his cheek. It's really comforting, to have him this close. We stay like that for some seconds, his touch is warm.

"It's okay, really." I whisper, being so close to him makes me feel butterflies inside of my stomach. It's an usual feeling by now.

He stays there, for some seconds. It's peaceful and everything it's so quiet. He closes his eyes and yawns. I move my hand back after a moment, when he breaks the silence.

"We should go back to our beds." He says, opening his eyes.

"I have a better idea." I say, taking his hand in mine. He looks at me stranged but he follows me anyway.

I guide us to my room, the almost empty room with only a double beed in the middle and one tall box as a bedside table. I don't want to decor this room, it's a rented temporary house, we soon will leave to Los Angeles, back to the real reality. This will do for now.

I stand in front of the bed, feeling nervous butterflies inside of my stomach. But, I don't want to be away from him. Having him near feels so nice, as if... I belong there. It's one of the few comfort things I can hold on to. With no memories I can go to comfort myself, at least I can have this.