crescent [h.s]

78

Aurora Styles

Walking away from my mother and half-sister has my entire body relaxing, melting into Harry's hold. He's taken us to join the rest of the guests who are walking around slowly and enjoying the art on the walls, my eyes catching a few of the tall men dressed in black suits nodding at each other as they point to a section of art from a smaller artist that's trying to break their entrance into this world.

After all, that is what I hope this gallery achieves.

When we pause at the first collection of art from an artist named Mari Martin, Harry talks quietly as to not attract attention from anyone else, but loud enough so I don't have to stretch to hear him, "I am so incredibly sorry that I forgot to tell you about the incident in Milan, and I was going to, as soon as we face timed that same evening. But then you...you told me you thought you were pregnant–"

"Harry stop," I cut him off and turn around so our chests are pressed together and I can look into his eyes, "I know baby," my hand raises to cup the side of his face, my thumb smoothing over the tops of his cheeks, "trust me, I know you would never cheat on me, I didn't believe them– not for one second. I also know you would never purposefully keep something like that from me, and looking back at it, I'm not surprised you forgot all about it."

His brows crease as he subconsciously tilts his head to relax further into my hand, blinking slower at the feeling, "Y-you're not mad at me?"

I shake my head, smiling at the action of his hand coming to rest on my bump, "Not at all. If our entire world hadn't blown up on us as soon as you came back from Italy, then yeah, maybe I would've been confused as to why you didn't tell me sooner." I take a breath and shrug, "But that didn't happen. I had a phantom pregnancy, we...we weren't okay. We were arguing over petty shit and then had that whole evening where everything went up in flames. Your mind was elsewhere, it was on us... not on some creepy woman who probably didn't leave you alone after you told her to."

Against my hand on his face, he nods, "I really wasn't thinking about her. I didn't even recognise her at the door tonight, I really wasn't paying that much attention. I just remember pointing out her accent... because she had a British twinge and that's not that common to hear when you're in a random high end hotel in Milan. But I promise, on my life, I didn't flirt with her. I didn't indicate I wanted anything with her... but I did take her up to her hotel room."

At his last sentence, my brows crease, "What do you mean you took her up to her hotel room?"

"She was absolutely pissed out of her mind, we were at the hotel bar, well," he shakes his head lightly, interrupting himself as he explains, "I was at the hotel bar, thinking over everything when she appeared, out of nowhere, sat down next to me even after I said no, stole my drink, ordered herself something and then downed some shots. She was all touchy with me and I was trying to be kind and keep a stable mind so I didn't get myself hurt, but after she made it clear that she...wanted something sexual, I very quickly tried my best to leave."

I nod at him continuously, following along as he gives me his side of the story, "But she didn't let me, physically stopping me with her foot. I'm not sure what happened between then and when she stood up, but when she did she fell straight into me, completely wasted. I texted Delilah and she came running down to help me, and together, we took her back to her hotel room so no one could take advantage of her. The alcohol hit so fast, and I genuinely thought she was drugged, but I don't think so. Not even sure if she was that drunk to be honest, may have been just an act to...I don't even know. See what I would do? But whatever it was, nothing happened, I would never do that to either of us."

"Okay," I nod, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips, wholeheartedly believing every word that's leaving his mouth right now, "did she say anything about me that I should know?"