Golden Luckenbooth

Sixty-Five

Attempting to pull out a chair for myself, I'm pleased to find Harry already standing at the back of my chair, ready to push it in for me as I sit. It's a lovely gesture, even if it's a bit old fashioned. That's part of the Harry Styles Experience: old-fashioned chivalry. Despite my desire for the end of the patriarchy and equity for all genders, I cannot deny that his motions make me feel feminine and cherished.

"Love the shoes," Blair giggles, pointing at my Crocs.

"Hey – no teasing. I needed something comfortable for my sore, swollen feet."

Holding up her hands in front of her chest, Blair shakes her head. "Okay, no ribbing. I'm glad you found something you could walk in. The exercise is good for you, and the shoes will help your feet. You should soak them in some Epsom salts tonight too. That will help."

"Thanks, Doc," I wink.

"You okay, boss?" Arran asks, sipping his lager after he's returned from placing our dinner orders. "That sounds like some scary shit that went down last night."

"It was," I confess, "but I also don't want to talk about it tonight. I'd much rather bask in the love and friendship around me."

Arran nods. "That's fair. How about we discuss baby names? Have the two of you picked out some options?

Guiltily, Harry and I glance at each other, our faces reddening. With everything else going on, the birth of our child has been pushed to the back of our minds. Which seems unreal since the world revolves around our baby. It's why we're together.

Isn't it?

My eyes roam to my fiancé – "Oh!" I exclaim, holding out my left hand to Blair. "We're engaged! It's a golden luckenbooth. Isn't it stunning?" She grasps my hand and gasps – which gives me time to examine Harry, his dimple deep as he grins at my excitement. Baby or not – this is the man I want to spend my future life with. Despite all the negative aspects of being associated with him, I truly do love him. Growing old with him will be my greatest pleasure.

"It's understated," Blair says, twisting my hand to examine the ring from all angles.

"Are you saying I'm a cheapskate?" Harry asks, pretending to be offended.

"No." Blair blinks. "I guess I just thought – I mean, you really love your rings, and they aren't exactly subtle, so I guess I expected that you would go with something ostentatious to show the world that Anna is yours."

He grins. "Believe me, the world knows she's mine, and that I'm hers. It's more that I would never get her a ring that could get lost up some cow's bum."

"Heyyyyy," I protest before chuckling with everyone. "I'll get into the habit of taking the ring off when I'm working."

"No." My fiancé's voice is curt. "It stays on your finger always."

I roll my eyes. "No. That's going to be my wedding ring, which will be a simple gold band, I hope."

"OHHHH!" Blair squeals. "I forgot that an engagement means a wedding! When will that be?"

I exchange a look with Harry who shrugs. "After Harry comes back from tour," I respond. "We don't want to rush anything. There's no reason we can't wait."

The indulgent smile from Harry warms my heart, and I reach out to clasp his fingers in mine. When he rubs his thumb over my skin, a shiver runs down my spine, and I suddenly want to ditch dinner with our friends and head home to bed. Not to sleep – if you know what I mean.

Our food is delivered to the table, and my appetite switches from sex to food. Biting into the burger, I savour the flavour with its fresh tomato and lettuce. Unfortunately, it's got raw onion on it, which has lately been affecting my tummy in a very negative way, so I remove the offensive veg. Blair raises an eyebrow.