Harry Styles' Baby

Chapter Nineteen:

Author's: Random but what's your favorite movie? I really like 'Now You See Me', 'Remember Me', and 'Dear John' (in that order)

much love, boos.xx

The way Harry walked through the door, bags in hand and a frown on his face and how, honestly, horrible he looked; he wasn’t expecting me to be home, in fact, I believe he thought we had broken up which would explain why he looks like shit. When he glanced up, he did a double take before even realizing I was there and appeared real.

“Hey?” he said it more like a question. I could tell what he meant. Hey wasn’t the end of it. He was thinking more like ‘Hey, why are you here?’ ‘Hey, are you real?’ ‘Hey, we’re together?’

“Uh, hey,” I mumble awkwardly as he opens one of his suitcases on the living room floor and beginning to sort through his clothes.

“I, uh, wasn’t expecting you-“ I cut him off because he is going painfully slow, slower than he usually is.

“To be here, I know, I wasn’t either,” I admit and he glances over at me.

“I hope you know the plane ride and fans aren’t the reason I look like this,” he mumbles. Really? Is this supposed to be a guilt trip?

“Yeah, you do look like shit,” I tell him, crossing my legs on the couch and staring at the TV.

“Thanks,” Harry says sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, no problem,” I smirk to myself, proud I didn’t fall into his stupid guilt trip.

We sit in silence for about 15 minutes as Harry finishes sorting his laundry and goes and shoves some of it in the washer and when he sits back down, the silence continues for another 10 minutes before Harry says something.

“Shouldn’t you be getting Nikki by now?” he asks, glancing at the clock on the wall.

“You can get her if you’d like to,” I mumble and he nods, standing from the couch and readjusting his clothes before disappearing.

For fuck’s sake. This was going to be fucking hell.

“Uh, where’s her school?” Harry asks awkwardly, appearing from the garage. Yeah, it would probably be quite helpful to tell him where he's going...

“Go straight down the road and take a left after passing 3 stop lights,” I tell him and he nods, leaving once again.

I probably should’ve left the second I had the chance. The second I told Harry I wanted to leave I should’ve packed up our shit and fucking left. But I couldn’t. I love him. He loves me. Nikki loves him. He loves Nikki. We’re a fucking family and we can’t just throw it out the window. Maybe if we didn’t have Nicole I would’ve left but that was unfair to her. To suddenly give her the father she was looking for only to have him ripped away because her parents couldn’t act like adults.

My phone rings and I pick it up to be greeted by Chelsea’s worried voice, “Are you okay?” she asks. She had gone to Niall’s to see him and she knew Harry and I would be left alone for a small amount of time these next 2 weeks. She was so worried.

“I sent him off to pick Nikki up,” I tell her, playing with a string on one of the pillows from the couch.

“Did you guys say anything to each other?” she questions.

“Yeah,” I sigh, “Uh, he said hey and I said hey and then he said he wasn’t expecting me to be here and I told him I didn’t expect it either and then he told me he hoped I knew the reason he looked so bad wasn’t because of the fans or the plane ride and I told him he did indeed look like shit and he thanked me for it,” I tell her.

“Anything after that?” she presses.

“I told him how to get to Nikki’s school,” I tell her, biting my lip and listening for the garage door to open anytime soon, “Fuck, Chelsea, I don’t know what to do!” I exclaim, “I’m not sharing a bed with him for sure but we can’t let Nikki see our relationship crumbling, Chelsea, I just can’t,” I sob into the phone.

“Brooklyn,” Chelsea sighs, “Baby, if you don’t want Nicole to see this failing then you need to pull it together before she comes home,” she tells me and I sniffle and nod even though she can’t see me.

“I know,” I groan, wiping some tears off my face and I hear the garage door open, “I’ll text you or call you later or something, they’re home,” I inform her, glancing over to the door to see it open.

“I love you,” Chelsea tells me and I smile to myself.

“I love you too,” I tell her, I glance up to see a somewhat pained look in Harry’s face but I forget about it when my daughter runs into my arms, “How was it, baby?” I ask her, sitting down in the floor and kissing her cheek.

“It was good, mummy,” she tells me, smiling widely, “Mummy?” she asks.

“Yeah, Nicole?” I ask, looking into her eyes.

“Can I have a snack?” she asks, pouting out her bottom lip causing me to laugh. She always got a snack after she came home; I’m not sure why she can’t seem to remember that. When she pouts, it looks like when Harry pouts.

“As always,” I smile at her, standing up and walking past Harry and into the kitchen. I feel his eyes watching me but I ignore him as I make a small plate of random snacks for Nikki.

Harry walks up beside me and I choose not to look into his perfect eyes, “Brooklyn,” he sighs and I nod, telling him to go on, “I still get to be her dad, right? Even if things…if things d-don’t work our between us, right? I can still be there for y-, uh, I…her, I mean her,” he stumbles over his words a lot and I can tell he seems on the verge of breaking down but I have to ignore it because if I don’t, I will too.

“Yeah,” I finally agree, “It’s not fair to her to finally have her father in the picture and have him ripped away,” and with that, I walk out to join Nikki on the couch.

Harry disappears around 5:30 to go get us some dinner which is mostly filled with Nikki’s questions and Harry’s occasional answers while I sat there. It still warmed my heart to see them get along so well but I didn’t really want to admit it anymore.

Before I know it, Harry and I are both awkwardly sitting alone together, watching some movie we sat down to about half way through so we had no idea what we were even watching.

“I’m going to bed,” I suddenly say and jog up the stairs to take a quick shower before going to bed. I don’t really go to bed until about an hour later.

Why can’t everything be perfect? Why can’t it be easy? Or easier than this at least? Oh, I know why. Because I’m Brooklyn Fife, I had a kid around 16, the kid being my ex-boyfriend’s, my ex-boyfriend being in the biggest boy band on the fucking planet. Harry Styles, the ex-boyfriend who left me to become famous, the one who every girl adored and wanted but yet, I’m pushing him away. If only everyone could know how fucking difficult this was.