If I could fly (BOOK 2)

Birthday

The days before the final show were relentless.

Harry barely slept. Rehearsals ran late, calls bled into early mornings, and every song felt heavier than the last. The weight of it all sat in his chest like something unfinished, something he couldn't quite name.

Y/N felt it too-but differently.

She woke nauseous most mornings now, sometimes gripping the bathroom sink until the room stopped spinning. The exhaustion was deeper than tired. It lived in her bones. She didn't tell him. Not yet. She watched him pace instead, listened to him talk through logistics and emotions that didn't land anywhere, held Darcy close and carried the secret quietly.

Darcy's birthday arrived anyway.

They made it sweet. Small. Balloons taped crookedly to the wall. A soft cake with too much frosting. Harry hovered over the candle like it might catch fire. Darcy clapped wildly when they sang, frosting smeared across her fingers, laughing like this day belonged only to her.

Harry kissed her hair and whispered, "Happy birthday, my girl," his voice thick.

For a moment, it felt right.

Then Harry checked his phone.

His expression changed instantly.

"No," he muttered. Then louder, "No, no, no-"

Y/N's stomach dropped. "Harry?"

"They have it," he snapped, scrolling furiously. "They have her birthday. The exact date. Headlines. Speculation. How the hell do they know this?"

She moved toward him. "Okay-stop. We'll figure it out-"

"No," he cut her off sharply. "This isn't something we figure out. This is her life."

"Harry, breathe-"

"I am breathing," he barked, pacing now. "And I'm telling you this isn't okay. Someone crossed a line."

Darcy startled at his raised voice, her smile fading.

Y/N stepped between them. "Lower your voice."

That made him turn on her fully.

"Don't tell me how to protect my daughter," he said, voice hard and stern, eyes blazing.

"She's my daughter too."

The words hit him like a slap.

Something in Harry's face changed instantly-shock first, then recognition. He saw Darcy's lip wobble. Saw Y/N's hands shaking. Saw himself from the outside.

"I- I didn't-" he started, the edge already gone from his voice. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't-"

But Y/N didn't let him finish.

"No," she said, sharp and hurt and unyielding. "Don't do that now."

She stepped back, pain spilling over. "You didn't have to act like this in front of her. Especially not today. Especially not on her birthday."

Harry froze.

"I was trying to protect-"

"You were yelling," she cut in. "You were angry and loud and you scared her. And me." Her voice broke. "You could've handled this without turning our house into something unsafe for even a second."

Darcy whimpered.

Y/N scooped her up immediately, pressing her close. "I won't let you scare her," she said, tears spilling freely now. "And I won't stand here and be spoken to like that."

She walked away.

The silence afterward was brutal.

Harry stood where she left him, apology stuck in his throat, shame settling heavy and cold. He heard Darcy's soft breathing through the wall. Heard Y/N crying quietly.

He hated himself.

He gave her time-not because he wanted to, but because he knew he'd already taken too much space with his anger.

When he finally went to her, she was sitting on the edge of the bed, Darcy asleep against her chest, tear tracks still fresh on her face.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately, voice wrecked. "I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. Ever."

She didn't answer.

He dropped to his knees in front of her, hands shaking. "I lost control. I was scared and angry and I took it out on the one person who didn't deserve it."

Her shoulders shook.

"I hate that I scared her," he continued, tears falling now. "I hate that I hurt you. You are my home. You are the safest place I have, and I acted like I forgot that."

She finally looked at him.

"It hurt," she whispered.

"I know," he said immediately. "And I will carry that. I will do better. I promise you-I will never let stress turn me into someone who wounds the people he loves."

She took a shaky breath.

"There's something I need to tell you," she said quietly.

His heart dropped. "What?"

She placed her hand over her stomach.

"I'm pregnant."

The world stopped.
Harry stared at her, then broke completely.

"Oh my god," he whispered, guilt crashing into awe. "You were carrying our baby-and I yelled at you."

He covered his face, sobbing. "I'm so sorry. I swear to you, if I had known-"

"I know," she said gently. "That's why I waited. You're carrying so much already."

He pulled her into his arms carefully, like she was fragile. "I love you," he said fiercely. "I love you more than anything. I promise you-I will be better. For you. For Darcy. For this baby."

She held him just as tightly. "I love you too."

Later, long after Darcy's birthday ended not in chaos but in quiet love, Harry lay awake talking about endings. About tomorrow. About the show.

Y/N listened, one hand resting over her stomach now-no longer a secret.

Darcy had turned one.
One chapter was ending.
Another had already begun.