Eucatastrophe ~ h.s.

✗ twenty-three ✗

SHAY

Harry and I are quiet on our drive home. His focus is on the road, but I can tell his mind is elsewhere; as my focus is on the ultrasound photos in my hands. I have thankfully stopped crying, but just seeing the pictures I hold is something that can tear me apart in an instant. We have yet to talk about the appointment, our brains taking time to process all the information Dr. Surrey gave us.

Baby is at perfect development for this far along.

I'm going to need you to gain at least 13 kilograms throughout this process, for the health of your child. You'll want to gain at least 3 kilograms by your next appointment.

I'll see you in another four weeks to check the progression of his or her growth.

"Shit." I jump out of my trance and turn my attention to Harry who is fumbling with his trousers.

"What's wrong?"

He bites his lip as he tries to dig into the front pocket of his skinny jeans for something unheard.

"Nothing, my phone is buzzing. Can you answer it?" He asks when he finally gets it free from his constricting pants. I nod and reach across the console, taking the device in my hand.

The caller id is saved into the phone, but I've never heard of a person called "Damian". He could be an old friend of Harry's from home for all I know, I don't know many of his friends.

"Hello, Harry Styles' phone." I answer, setting the ultrasound pictures down onto my lap.

The person on the other line clears his throat, sounding quite surprised.

"Ah, is Harry there?" I glance to Harry, seeing him peek over at me whilst trying to keep his eyes on the road.

I sigh and wave him off, pointing towards the road. I am still his secretary. Answering the phone for Harry is still my job.

"Um, he's currently driving. Can I help you?" The man clears his throat again.

"Just tell Harry that I've found something on the case of Nichols that I need to share with him before I take it to the police." I swallow hard, a lump growing in my throat. My throat feels as if it's tightening up as it grows extremely dry.

Case of Nichols.

I can only imagine what this is pertaining to and without the background information, I feel as if I might boil over in anger. "Ma'am?" The man questions with a slight cough, awaiting my response though I can hardly give him one. I clear my throat, my eyes set on the road before us.

"Thank you for calling," I say as Harry pulls onto the road in which his house is located. "I'll be sure to let him know."

With that said, I hang the phone up and clutch it tightly in my hand. I swallow down the urge to blow at him and take deep calming breathes. I don't know the whole story; I can't jump to conclusions.