Love and Fame (Harry Styles)

Chapter 37

"What's this?" Mom said with a certain tone that instantly made me freeze.

We were sitting side by side at the kitchen table with our hair in disarray, eating cereal for breakfast, and she tilted her phone in my direction so that I could read the latest iMessage she had received.

"I don't know," I admitted as my eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

Mom's best friend, Melody Ryder, had just implied that Mom was expecting a grandchild. She had sent a text message to offer her congratulations, and her help if it was ever needed.

But who was pregnant? It sure as hell wasn't me, and I knew for a fact that Mike and Jonah were very single and very unlikely to have knocked someone up.

What the fuck was going on?

"Is there something you need to tell me?" Mom said, her voice uncharacteristically stern.

I knew that there was nothing more Mom wanted than grandkids, but I also knew that she thought it was way too soon for any of us to have babies now. And at the moment she thought that I was a completely fuck up who had been careless with the protection.

"No," I said numbly, still confused as fuck.

Where did Melody's assumptions come from? Why on earth did she think that I was pregnant? Who had told her such a thing?

"Are you sure?" Mom pressed and I couldn't keep from rolling my eyes even through I knew it would bug her.

"Yes, Mom, I'm not pregnant," I insisted just as Harry entered the kitchen.

He froze and I saw his smile fade and his eyes widen at the mention of pregnancy.

I could tell that he hadn't been within earshot long enough to comprehend the full meaning of what I was just saying. I could see it in the way his eyes were nervously gleaming that he was for a horrible second thinking that I was pregnant, because he hadn't heard the whole conversation.

"What's going on?" he said cautiously, forcing himself to keep it cool, probably because Mom was around. He didn't want to appear as the guy who freaked out if he had happened to accidentally knock me up.

"I'm not pregnant," I said quickly before I gestured for Mom to show Harry the text message Melody had sent. "But obviously someone's said that I am."

"What the fuck?" Harry said before he quickly excused his language. Mom didn't care one bit about the swearing, and just waved the excuse away with a flick of her hand. "Have you Googled it?"

"What?" Mom and I said in unison.

"Google it," Harry said again and pulled out his phone from his back pocket.

He quickly typed something into his phone, and his eyebrows scrunched together as he obviously found what he was looking for. He gave his phone to me so that Mom and I could read what he had just read.

"Oh, my God, I'm getting sick and tired of all the fucking rumors!" I exclaimed when Harry showed me the gossip article he had found, illustrated with pictures from the walk we had had the day before.

After Harry had tickled me on our walk the previous day, I had absentmindedly rubbed my belly. And someone had apparently interpreted the movement to be tied to my supposed pregnancy.

Of course the story was just too juicy to let slide, and the assumptions had been posted all over the Internet by some idiot. Harry Styles had knocked up his girlfriend. The One Direction hunk was expecting a child...

My ass! It was all fucking bullshit and it pissed me off.

And there I was on all of the illustrating pictures, giggling next to Harry as I had one hand placed gently on my stomach and one hand placed in his. Seemingly protecting my unborn child...

The tabloids obviously didn't want for us to have a happy relationship. I realized that when I read the article again and again.

They would never leave us be. All they ever wanted was stories people would buy and read and talk about, even if the stories weren't true.

I was getting sick and tired of it. Whenever Harry and I were cut some slack and could enjoy ourselves for a bit, like we had the past week when celebrating Christmas with my family, something else came up that ripped the happiness away with some other shocking, but fake, story.

Like the Ed Sheeran story. The very story that had once ripped us apart for what seemed so long ago.

"I'm sorry," Harry said as Mom and I read the article over and over again, trying to wrap our heads around it. "This is my fault."

I knew that the apology was mostly directed at Mom. Not because he wasn't sorry that I was being exploited in the media like that, but because it was important to him that Mom accepted him.

"Don't be silly," Mom said quickly and put a hand on his arm to squeeze it reassuringly. "This isn't your fault, honey. You're not to blame for the fact that the tabloids are leeching off of your private life like that."

"I'm still sorry," Harry sighed and pulled a resigned hand through his hair. "Talia is your daughter and I realize that I'm not coming off as the ideal boyfriend when she is being exposed in the media like that."

"Don't worry about it," Mom insisted and gave Harry a gentle smile to let him know that she was being genuine. I was relieved that she didn't blow a gasket because of the new scandal because it really wasn't Harry's fault. "But if I were you, I would call Anne and let her know that she's not really expecting a grandchild."

"Shit, yeah, I should do that," Harry said and retrieved his phone from my possession. But before he made the call, he flashed me an apologetic smile and pecked my lips gently. "I'm sorry, love."

"Don't be, it's not your fault," I said and gave him a brave smile to let him know that I would be okay.

"I love you."

"I love you too," I said, and with that Harry left the room to call Anne.

Mom put a hand on my arm in a gentle touch and I looked at her. She flashed me a tiny smile and I managed to return it.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I sighed and leaned back in my chair. "Yeah, I'll be okay."