*one week later*
FLO'S POV-
It was a week until I heard from Harry. I'd settled down in Maddy's apartment nicely and I spent most of my time in my little studio, singing and writing. I'd planned on never hearing from Harry ever again, worried that I'd scared him off but one afternoon my phone rang.
"Hello?" I answer.
"Flo, it's Harry," he says. I take a deep breath in, this is the call I'd been waiting for.
"I've decided that I want to have this baby with you," he breathes out. I nearly sob in relief, I'd been so worried about doing this on my own.
"That's good news," I smile down the phone.
"So listen I've bought us a house. Pack your stuff and someone will be there in about an hour to get you. You'll love it!" He says excitedly. Before I can answer he turns the call off, leaving my mouth hanging wide open. I run into the shop and tell Maddy who's really happy for me. I pack up the little things I have, again, and wait in the shop for the car.
"I'll miss living with you two," she says stroking my belly.
"I'm sure I'll see you everyday anyways, I have nothing to do otherwise," I laugh.
"Harry might have you cleaning the house!" She giggles.
"He's got no chance! I'm pregnant," I smile.
"Only three months! You can still do stuff," she tells me. I shush her as a black tinted car pulls up outside.
"I love you!" I tell Maddy, pulling her into a hug.
"Have fun little one!" She shouts out the door as I slips into the leather seats of the car. I pull my stuff in behind me and slam the door.
"Miss De Vere, I will be your driver, Ian," a man turns round to smile at me.
"Hey Ian. Please call me Flo," I grin back at him. Wow a driver? This was going to be interesting, I thought.
We only drove for about fifteen minutes before Ian slows down.
I push my door open and stand on the pavement, mouth gaping open.
The house wasn't particularly big but it was beautiful. It was painted bright white with a cute little red door.
The front garden was pretty and overflowing with colourful flowers and bushes.
The door opens and Harry walks out, making my heart stop. He's wearing a pair of black skinny jeans, a ripped flannel shirt and a pair of brown boots. He runs his hand through his hair and makes his way towards me.
"Like it?" He asks.
"It's beautiful. Harry I can't afford this," I tell him.
"I'm paying for it. I want the best for my baby," he says, his eyes flicking to my stomach.
"Our baby," I correct him. He smiles and grabs my suitcase.
"Follow me," he says leading me into the house. The hall is cute with a rug running lengthways. The stairs are in the living room, full of furniture already, which also leads to the spacious kitchen, already stocked with food and appliances.
Harry pulls me up the stairs and into a room. Everything is white, with a single bed, little chest of drawers and wardrobe in it.
"This will be the baby's room," he grins at me. My heart warms at the nice gesture. Next door was my room, with a large double bed and a huge wardrobe. How many clothes did he think I had? I dropped my suitcase off as he showed me the bathroom, complete with jacuzzi and then his room at the end of the corridor.
He opened the door to show a room similar to mine with a large bed and wardrobe. But his bed is already messy, and there's clothes all over his floor.
"How long have you been here for?" I laugh.
"Only a day!" He mocks shock.
I turn to face him. "So Harry what is this?" I ask him, motioning between us, "what do we tell people when they ask?"
"Just say that we're living together and obviously having a baby, that we love very much, but that we're not in a relationship," he tells me. My heart sinks a little but he doesn't seem to notice. "Right," I say.
"Anyways I gotta go, I have a meeting with management about all of this," he says running down the stairs. He grabs his coat and is out of the door before I can reply.
I spent my time looking around the house, seeing what Harry had already bought us. There were beers in the fridge and loads of junk food in the freezer to. It kind of made me laugh. Isn't this going to be fun, I thought sarcastically.
