Isn't She Lovely (h.s)

Chapter 27

Louis

TWO MONTHS LATER 

I heard the shifting of something through the phone before his gravelly voice rang out in my ears.

"Hullo?" I sniffled one last time before clearing my throat and willing my mouth to move.

"Harry?" My voice sounded rough, and I mentally hit myself for not calming down before calling him.

"Oh hey, Lou, what's up?" I could tell from the sound of his voice that he had sensed my anxiousness, but if he did he didn't voice his concern. I started to shift uncomfortably in my seat as I looked over at a sleeping Eleanor sprawled out across our bed.

"Umm... I need to talk to you." I waited to give him time to answer. When he didn't I started again.

"C-can you meet me at Starbucks, the one on Blount street i-in twenty minutes? It's really important-t." I groaned inwardly, of course Harry knew something was wrong now by the way I was acting. I was hardly ever this quiet, or serious.

"Oh...uh yeah Lou, sure. I'm on my way." I hung up without saying a goodbye and fell back down on our bed. My heart clenched in my chest and I felt my stomach twist in knots. Is this how he felt when he found out he was a father?

Nervous?

Worried?

Scared?

...but was he regretful like me?

As time began to pass and our situation became more and more real, I started to doubt if I could do this. It had been two months now since we visited my mum's and her words just kept playing over and over again in my head.

Could she be right?

Were we really ready to be responsible for another human being? The more I thought about it the more doubts I started to have. How was Eleanor supposed to take care of a baby and finish up at university while I was away on tour? I just didn't know how we were supposed to make this work...

I was going to be a terrible father, I already knew it. How could I be a good father if I'd rarely be home for El and the baby! Plus, I wouldn't even be home in eight months for the birth of my child. I'd be halfway across the fucking world performing to a screaming crowd of hormonal teenage girls.

What kind of father misses the birth of his own child? Well, Harry did, but I mean, that was different! He didn't even know he had a child. If he had known he would have stopped at nothing to be there, I knew him too well.

My emotions were having an internal battle deep within my heart. My heart was telling me that this is what I wanted, I wanted to be happy. I wanted to have a baby with the love of my life and live happily as we grew old and watched our little ones grow up.

But my brain told me differently. Part of me... part of me didn't. I kept thinking about responsibility and maturity. Having a kid meant having to grow up. It meant responsibility and dedication. It meant being an adult. Sure, I am twenty one. I know that I am an adult, but I don't want to have to act like one all of the time! Having a kid just emphasis the fact that I'm growing older each and every day, and that scares the shit out of me.

I do want to have a baby; so, so badly. But what happens when the media is covering every aspect of his/her life? You can't possibly have a happy childhood like that, it just wouldn't be healthy. I was beginning to understand Harry's obsession with keeping Catherine a secret.

I heard El whimper in her sleep and I sighed, swooping my fringe out of my eyes before crawling back into bed and wrapping my arms around her slightly protruding stomach. She immediately quieted down as she felt my warm embrace around her.

I was so conflicted. There was no way I could talk to El about this. She would be heartbroken that I'm even having these types of thoughts. I don't want to see her hurt, that's the last thing I'd ever want.

Carefully, I unwrapped El from my arms and pulled the duvet farther up her body, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. I walked into the bathroom and turned on the faucet, quickly hopping into the shower and feeling the water wash over my body. I put my head under the shower head and let the hot water release all the built up tension I held as the water cascaded over my taut muscles. I got out of the shower in just enough time to pull on a pair of gray joggers and a white v neck. I grabbed my black beanie and my Ray-bans, leaving a note on my pillow for when El finally woke up telling her where I went.

I slipped out of our bedroom and walked down the flight of stairs that led to our front door, quickly jogging to the adjacent garage that housed our car. I hopped into the seat of our silver Range Rover and put the car in drive, heading off in the direction of Blount street.

I arrived early, pulling the hood of my jumper up over my beanie as I walked down the street and entered into the nearly empty Starbucks. I relaxed a little at the sight of only a handful of middle aged business people sipping coffee. I ordered my usual tea with milk and two sugars and waited at a nearby table. Just to be safe, I had them write Liam's name on it.

I sat back at the table with my tea once I picked it up from the smiling young woman working behind the counter, and I went over and over in my head the possible scenarios that could play out. What was Harry going to think about all of this? Was he going to think we were making a huge mistake? Would he be able to relate to how I'm feeling? I felt awful; one minute I'm saying no to having children. The next, I'm trying to convince Eleanor to have a baby, and now...  well, now I'm not quite sure how I feel.

Does everyone feel this way before they have kids? God, I sure hope so. I hope this is just a bad case of cold feet. Could Harry help me through this? The pregnancy secret was eating me alive; I needed to tell him. He's my best friend, I wanted him to know.

Just then the soft twinkle of the bell over the door signaled someone's arrival. I snapped my head up and looked into the direction of the door and was immediately greeted by Harry's large frame. His shoulders were hunched and tensed, and his face was turned down into a frown. He scanned the room and I hailed him over. He walked over to me quickly and fell into the seat across from me.

Well, here goes nothing.