Your POV
The wedding had been small and private, only mine and his parents and few of our closest friends from home in attendance.
The entire month prior had been a stressful chaos of secrets and trying to throw the press off, and the wedding itself almost seemed rushed, as if by extending it by even one second the world would find out and ruin everything.
I knew Harry wished the boys could be there, as well as the other members of the crew he was particularly close to, and it made me sad that they couldn't be.
It wasn't the wedding i had dreamed of all my life, but it did its job in binding me to the guy i had dreamed of all my life, and really that's all that had mattered.
At first it hadn't been so bad-everyone knew we were dating, so it wasn't weird when Harry spent time with me or when i visited while he was on tour.
But then management had decided it was better for Harry to be single, so they strong armed him into faking a break up with me.
The other boys were furious, and it wasn't hard for Harry to appear upset, which sold the whole situation to the press.
That's when things had become nearly unbearable-any contact i had with him having to be heavily guarded.
Things were rocky as i watched him being forced to degrade an other wise decently reputable reputation with posed pictures and cheeky tweets and cheap girls. Sometimes he even seemed to enjoy it, but i couldn't blame him.
A year after our wedding, after months away with little communication, he was finally back in the UK.
I was so weary of it all by that point that i really couldn't care less what repercussions would come from outing myself.
If it weren't for his own fragile state, i probably would have.
Even from small talks here and there, i could tell the image being thrust upon him was slowly exhausting him-both physically and emotionally. So instead, i ducked incognito into the hotel the band was staying at, praying no one would notice.
I had knocked on his door, almost crying with anticipation, but Louis had answered, causing me to jump back on my heels.
His brow had immediately furrowed, eyebrows knitting together, as the realization hit him.
"...Y/N?" he questioned, confused, before making a quick glance down either side of the hall and pulling me quickly into the hotel room.
"What are you doing here?!" he had asked, no judgment in his voice, but rather concern. Even though he didn't know i was married, he knew the break up was fake, and that, by the look on his face, Harry still loved me.
"I need to see Harry." I had replied to the point, returning his grip. He had stared at me for a moment, searching my eyes for a reason, but not needing a verbal explanation.
"Can you.. can you wait until after the show?" He had asked. "He's gonna be so messed up once he sees you."
My eyes folded in sadness, but i knew he was right.
"Yeah.. yeah I can wait." You nodded.
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