The Devil Wears Saint Laurent (h.s.)

chapter twenty-nine

Harry was leaving the hospital today, and I was beyond excited for us to finally go home; only to realize . . . we don't have one anymore. It hasn't hit me yet because my main concern was Harry, but I've just realized that everything I have is now gone. I know material things don't matter and blah blah blah, but it was a shit ton of a stuff that I spent a shit ton of money on. I won't lie, I'm pretty upset about it.

Harry suggested we stay in his townhouse for a while. Obviously we had to start looking for houses, because there's no way the both of us and a newborn baby could live in his townhouse that was meant for a single man. Harry's townhouse was much larger than my apartment, but not as big as a house, and definitely not the place to raise a baby.

It was beyond a stressful situation now. Harry really had to start looking for a job now. There was no way we were gonna be able to afford a new house on just my income. Even with the money the city was gonna give us, living in New York was expensive as hell and we both needed incomes in order to survive.

Leaving the hospital was hell. Paparazzi still seemed to want to swarm around Harry even if he wasn't technically famous anymore. After pushing through our way through the crowd, we took a cab back to his place. I sat with a very stressed and sleepy Harry, lying his dead down on my shoulder and a terrified kitten trembling in my lap.

"Before we get inside my place, I'd like to apologize now for the mess I know that will be waiting for us." Harry spoke as we were driving closer to his townhouse in the city.

I let out a giggle and rolled my eyes, "You mean the mess you'll be cleaning up."

He chuckled, "Yeah yeah I know."

"Anything else you want to warn me about? Any Nudie magazines lying around?" I tease him.

"Nudie magazines? What is this, the 1980's?" He scoffs.

I heard the driver of the cab start to chuckle and he started pulling in front of Harry's house. Harry pays the man and we get out of the car. We walk up his steps and Harry twists the key into his knob and unlocks the door. Cheeto jumps out of my arms and into the house as soon as Harry opens the door.

"Someone is making herself at home." Harry chuckles.

We step in and I look around his messy place. It was nicely decorated to suit Harry's personality, everything was very earthy and dark, with just a hint of a modern touch to it.

"I forgot how manly you're apartment is." I tell him.

He shrugs, "Well, this is our place now. I'll change anything for you. You can paint the walls whatever you like, we can sell the furniture-"

I covered his mouth with my hand and started to laugh softly. "Harry, I love you and that's very sweet of you, but I don't think we have the budget to start redecorating."

He scratches the back of his neck nervously, "Oh yeah, there's something I need to tell you."

My brows scrunch together and I'm terrified as to what could possibly come out of his mouth right now.

He lets out a sigh, "Yesterday, some agency got in contact with me. They want to get me an agent and start modeling again."

I was relieved the news wasn't bad, but I was also kind of disappointed. For a second I thought we'd be able to be normal, and do all of this without the paparazzi, tabloids, and chaos.

I stood in silence, not knowing what to say really.

"Charlotte, I haven't said yes yet. I wanted to talk to you about it first of course." He explains and I smile knowing, he thought of me before he made his decision.