LANA MASON
The silence between Harry and me is loud as I finish getting ready in our ensuite. He's watching me and I know he's reluctant to say anything that might set me off, but it doesn't really matter. I'm going to be crying in about a half hour anyway even though I've told myself I'm going to keep it together.
"I like this outfit on you," he says.
In the mirror, my gaze shifts down to my fitted long-sleeve black shirt tucked into a pair of Levi's jeans. It couldn't be a simpler outfit. He was reaching for ways to change the subject.
"Thank you," I snap my blush compact shut and rake my fingers through my hair to give myself a messy side part. "Should we go, then?"
He tilts his head at me with a soft and sympathetic chuckle. "Whatever you're feeling, it's okay."
"No, no, no," I sniffle and look up at the lights in our bathroom to keep my eyes from watering. "If I start, I won't be able to stop, and I do not want to make this day about me. This is a bigger day for you, Allison, and Jane."
"And you," he frowns, brushing his knuckles across my cheekbones. "In fact, you're the one who spends every day with Jane when it's my and Allison's weeks. If anyone is going to be missing her while she's at school, it's you."
He has a point there. I guess I still just have the unofficial step-parent complex of feeling as though it's not quite fair for me to feel certain things since I'm not her real mother. Maybe that'll change once Harry and I are married, but I'm not sure.
"I see your point," I nod as he takes my face with gentle hands and mumbles that he loves me with his lips on my forehead, pursing them for a soft kiss. "What am I going to do with all my free time now?"
He smiles down at my belly with his hand on the top of it. "Well, you can focus on this little one, for starters. I also believe you have a wedding to plan."
I make a face as if I forgot. As if. "Oh, shit. You're so right."
We both laugh as I bring my left hand between us to see my gorgeous ring again. Most nights, I can't even sleep because I can't stop staring at it. I keep taking photos of it as if I'm going to post them all or show someone, but I'm not. It's just for me to look at even though it's quite literally on my own finger at all times.
"Have you given any more thought as to whether or not you want to have the wedding before or after the baby?"
"I think after," I nod and rest my hand on his over my shirt. "I don't want to be like a giant whale on our honeymoon, craving pickles and peanut butter when I'm supposed to feel cute and sexy. And I also want to have sex. A lot of it."
He laughs at my blunt response, blushing as well. "I can understand that and I won't argue with you."
"Do you have a preference either way?"
"No," he shakes his head. "Whatever you want is what I want, but...I guess I would say it'd be helpful if we could do the wedding and honeymoon after I leave L'Éclatant and before I start the new restaurant. I can take two weeks off for both and jump right into it once we come back."
"I wouldn't be opposed to that," I place my hands on his chest over his thermal long-sleeve. "Either way, I can't wait to be a Styles."
His eyes seem to light up at the suggestion. "You want to change your name?"
Back when we first started seeing each other, he respectfully asked me why my name is Mason and not Russo if they're the ones who ended up taking me in, and I explained how my godparents didn't want to make that decision for me and take away the last shred of a connection I had to my biological mom and dad. Needless to say, the name Mason means a great deal to me. That's why he's surprised I would be so willing to become a Styles without being prompted.
