The state I'm in COMPLETED

the truth

Waking up next to Harry in his room at his parents' house felt both strange and wonderful.

Strange, because his parents and Lucy's room were just a few steps away—and wonderful, because I got to wake up wrapped in his warmth, surrounded by his scent.

His room was exactly how I imagined it—dark grey walls, a single white accent wall covered in motorcycle posters—the only obvious reminder that, despite being a father, he was still so young. The room was tidy, more than I expected for a guy his age. Wooden shelves lined the walls, holding a mix of books, CDs, cameras, and pictures of baby Antony. A sleek black laptop sat neatly on his desk, next to a small stack of books, and an old-fashioned bedside lamp cast a soft glow across the room.

This was Harry. A mix of rough and soft. Chaos and order. Boy and man.

I turned onto my side, my eyes tracing the contours of his face. He was dead asleep, his breathing deep and steady, his messy curls partially covering his face. His full lips were slightly parted, and for a moment, he looked completely at peace.

Last night had been... intense.

Leo's confession had lingered in the back of my mind, threatening to overshadow my birthday, but Harry and Rose had tried so damn hard to make me happy. I still felt guilty for keeping it from him, but telling him now would only lead to more complications—ones I wasn't ready to face.

As my eyes drifted to his arm, to the fresh ink with my name etched onto his skin, a wave of emotions washed over me.

What was he thinking?

Was he really that sure about us? Or was this a reckless, impulsive decision?

He'd told me last night that he also had Antony's name tattooed over his heart, but I hadn't seen it properly yet—he was wearing a T-shirt at the time.

I traced my fingers lightly over the inked letters of my name, lost in thought when—

"You know, I can feel you staring, babe."

His deep, raspy morning voice startled me, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Shit, Harry!" I gasped, pulling my hand back as his lips curled into a lazy smirk.

Before I could say anything else, he grabbed me, pulling me against him, his arms locking around me as he pressed soft, lingering kisses all over my face.

Harry's family was the warmest, kindest group of people I had ever met.

Over breakfast, they showered me with gifts and affection, making me feel like I truly belonged.

His mom, Pam, was especially affectionate—watching Harry and me with a mixture of relief and gratitude.

Later, when Harry stepped outside to check his bike, there was a soft knock at his bedroom door.

"Yeah?"

I turned to see his mother standing there, her expression hesitant yet warm.

"Hey, Valerie... can I talk to you for a moment?" she asked, glancing back to make sure Harry was still outside.

"Of course," I said, flashing her a reassuring smile.

She stepped in and closed the door behind her. "I just wanted to thank you."

I frowned, confused. "Thank me? For what?"

She exhaled, tears glistening in her eyes. "For bringing Harry back to us."

I blinked. "Oh..."

"You don't know what it was like to watch my son disappear into himself," she continued, her voice trembling. "For months, he was drowning in regret. He thought his life was over. He felt trapped, manipulated, blackmailed. He wasn't the boy I raised anymore. He was so... alone."