"No." You whisper over and over again, as if it would change the fact. "NO!" You finally scream. Tears ran down your cheeks. "Why would he do this to me?" You wailed.
"(Y/N), it wasn't his fault," Liam said soothingly.
"No. It was mine. I made him go to the bank. If-if-" You could barely finish a sentence.
"You didn't make him. From the way I heard it, he agreed to go. Y/N, these things happen."
"He was 25! And he had a baby on the way! Why would God do this!" You run into your bedroom and look at Niall's side of the bed. Still warm and a faint imprint of his body. Your hand went to your stomach. How could you do this without Niall? You were only a week and found out three days ago. You didn't even get to see you get fat. You went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror.
All you saw was a pathetic wife who let her husband die. "No!" You punched the mirror and shards of glass went flying. Liam and Harry rushed in. Your hand was bleeding and you sat on the ground sobbing. But the answer was clear. You rushed into the kitchen and searched for the knives.
"Y/N! Don't do this! Its not worth it!"
"Yes it is." You sunk to the ground, realizing what you were about to do. If you killed yourself then, it would make you no better than the person who killed Niall. Even worse. Harry hugged you close. You needed to go on. For this baby.
A few months later it turned out to be babies. A boy and a girl. They would always want to hear about how their daddy saved people during the bank robbery. How he was a hero. One night, you and Harry both told the kids the story, while Harry's hand rested on your bulging stomach.
