When Samantha James becomes One Direction's personal assistant, she gets more than she bargains for. Falling for Harry Styles is one of them. But things aren't always easy or beautiful, because Sam has secrets--dark ones, and she'll do anything to h...
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My belly was swollen and heavy, leaving me so uncomfortable that I couldn't sleep. The baby was laying right on my bladder and kicking the side of my stomach fiercely. Mom always made the ultrasound technician turn the screen from me, but I always heard their heartbeat. It was strong and steady. A smile couldn't help but form on my face every time I heard it.
I tiptoed down the hallway to get a glass of water. The lamp in the living room dimmed the surrounding area and I peered in to see my dad relaxing on the couch in his bathrobe, thumbing through the bible. "Can't sleep?" I asked him, glancing at him briefly before continuing across the living room.
He ignored me, just as he has since he hit me that night. I slowly went into the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the cabinet, working quietly enough in case my father decided to utter a word to me. He shifted in his seat and cleared his throat and I paused, waiting.
"You've disappointed us, Samantha," he said flatly.
"I know," I replied quietly, bringing the glass to my lips. He didn't say anything else after that, and I don't even know why he said that in the first place. It was obvious that they were disappointed in me. When your parents are mad at you, it's not a big deal, but when they're disappointed in you, it hurts.
As I walked back into the living room, I paused by his seat. "I'm sorry," I whispered. He stilled, but didn't look up at me. "I'm really sorry, you have to know that." Dad cleared his throat and turned his attention back to his reading and I sighed, shoulders sagged, as I shuffled back to my room.
"Sam?"
I made no effort to turn to Harry's voice. I'd been moping for the past week, barely speaking to anyone, my phone off. On planes and tour buses I slept, during shows and press meeting I stayed in the hotel room. My mind was empty and my heart was numb.
"Sam?" he repeated again. "I've packed your stuff up. The car is leaving for the airport soon."
I situated myself in the bed to let him know that I heard him. He sighed and even though my back was turned to him, I could already see his pensive brow in my mind along with his frown.
He sighed again, louder this time and I closed my eyes. "Sam, please talk to me."
Silence from me.
"Sam," he said more sternly. "Sam. Look at me." He came around the bed and gently moved my legs over, sitting on the edge of the bed. I shifted my gaze to him for a moment before returning it to the wall. "God, Sam. I know you're hurting—," he began but I cut him off, surprising us both by speaking.
