If I could fly (BOOK 2)

In between moments

Being alone wasn't the hardest part.

It was the in-between moments - the ones where the house felt too quiet but also too full of things waiting to be finished.

Y/N moved through the new place slowly, Darcy balanced on her hip, the baby's weight familiar now. She measured walls. Rearranged furniture. Sat on the floor in the middle of rooms that still echoed and imagined what they'd sound like once Harry was back for good.

Nesting wasn't frantic.
It was careful.

At night, when Darcy finally slept, Y/N curled up on the couch with her phone, waiting.

Harry always called late. Different time zones. Different exhaustion.

That night, his voice sounded wrong from the start.

"Told you yet?" he asked quietly.

"Told me what?" Y/N said, already sitting up straighter.

There was a pause. Too long.

"Zayn told me," Harry said. "He's leaving. In March."

Her breath caught. "Leaving the band?"

"Yeah." His voice was tight. "He's been sitting on it for weeks. Didn't know how to say it. Didn't want to blow everything up."

Y/N closed her eyes. "That's... huge."

"I know." He exhaled sharply. "Everything's changing. And I'm stuck out here pretending it's business as usual."

She frowned. "You're not pretending."

"It feels like I am," he snapped, too fast, too sharp. "I'm missing things. I'm missing you. I'm missing her growing every day while everything else is shifting underneath me."

Her chest tightened. "Harry-"

"I don't even recognize my own life sometimes," he continued, words rushing now. "You're there building this whole world and I'm just... not."

The edge in his voice made her sit straighter. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying it feels like you've moved on without me," he said, frustration bleeding through, his voice getting louder. "Like you're playing house and I'll just slot back in when I'm done."

The words landed like a slap.

Silence stretched.

"Don't," Y/N said quietly.

"I didn't mean-"

"Yes, you did," she interrupted, voice shaking now. "You just said it. I'm here alone with our baby, holding everything together, and you're telling me I'm playing house?"

"That's not what I meant," he said quickly. "I'm just scared."

"So am I," she shot back. "But I don't snap at you because of it. I don't make you feel small just because I feel out of control."

"I feel like I'm losing everything," Harry said, voice breaking now. "The band. The timing. You. Her."

"You're not losing us," she said firmly. "But you will if you keep talking to me like I'm the enemy."

There was a long pause. She could hear him breathing.

"I shouldn't have said that," he said finally. "I shouldn't have snapped."

"No," she whispered. "You shouldn't have."

Her eyes burned. Darcy stirred softly in her bassinet, unaware.

"I can't do this right now," Y/N said, voice breaking despite herself. "I need you to calm down and really think about what you're saying to me."

"Please don't hang up," Harry said quickly.

"I love you," she said softly. "But I'm not letting you hurt my feelings because you're scared."

Then she ended the call.

Harry stared at the dark screen for a long time.

⸻

Y/N cried quietly that night.

Not loudly. Not dramatically.

The kind of crying that happened while she folded tiny clothes and pressed her face briefly into Darcy's blanket just to breathe through the ache.

The next afternoon, there was a knock at the door.

Anne.

Y/N didn't pretend to be okay. Anne didn't ask her to.

She stepped inside and wrapped Y/N in a hug that felt steady and grounding, holding her while the words spilled out - the snap, the fear, the loneliness, the silence after the call.

"He's scared," Anne said gently once Y/N finished. "But fear doesn't excuse hurting you."

"I know," Y/N whispered.

⸻
Harry booked the flight that night.

Didn't tell management. Didn't overthink it.
He sat alone at the airport replaying the call again and again - the snap in his voice, the way she'd gone quiet, the click when the line went dead.
He landed, sent one text.

I'm coming home. I need to fix this.

⸻

Y/N was feeding Darcy when she heard the door.

She froze and put Darcy down.

Harry stood there, exhausted, eyes red, jacket still on like he hadn't trusted himself to slow down.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately. "I was wrong. I was scared. And I took it out on you."

She looked at him for a long moment.

"You hurt me," she said quietly.

"I know," he replied, voice breaking. "And I won't do it again."

Darcy made a small sound in her bassinet.

Harry softened instantly. "I don't want to be someone who hurts the people I love."

She exhaled, shoulders finally dropping.

When she leaned into him, he held her like he'd almost lost everything - and understood exactly why it mattered that he hadn't.