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Epilogue (Version 1) - Harry

We got married three years later.  Three years.  It didn’t seem like that amount of time with all of the work we were doing and all of the travelling that came with our growing business, but the day I married Harry Styles I was wondering why I hadn’t done it even four years sooner.  We got so caught up in photo shoot after photo shoot for different people all over the country – and eventually all over the world.  Before we knew it, the 5 boys and I were travelling to different parts of the world at different times in the year to attend and participate in fashion shows of all kinds.  If anyone told my ninth grade self that this was how my future looked, I would laugh in their face.  No way.  But it was happening.  So, three years after I turned down the ever-famous Wentz Magazine, I was flying to Madrid for the Fashion Week there.  The morning of the show, Harry and I snuck into the large room with the runway cutting the room in half.  Harry grabbed my hand and pulled me up onto the runway.

“Let me see a fabulous walk.  Show off those clothes you’re wearing now,” Harry instructed.

I glanced down at my baggy sweats and bare feet.  “These?”

Harry grinned and nodded.  “You’re really working that outfit, you know.  I’d buy that.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s because they’re actually your pants.”

Harry’s laugh echoed off of the four walls of the giant room and he turned me to face the end of the runway. “Go,” he urged me, slapping my bum.

Reluctantly, I stretched out my legs before me and stood on my toes.  I stiffened my neck and kept a straight face as I walked a few steps forward, swinging my hips dramatically from side to side as I stepped.  I actually felt confident for a moment before I noticed a janitor in the back of the room watching me and grinning.  My whole composure fell and I covered my face before spinning around back to face Harry… who was down on one knee directly behind me. 

“Oh Jesus Christ, Harry stop it-“ I choked, pulling on his t-shirt to try and make him stand up. 

When he didn’t, I covered my face again and tried to run away, but Harry grabbed my hand and pulled me back to him.  “My Love,” he called up to me seductively, attempting to get me to look at him in the eyes. “My Dearest Scotlan, my best friend, my baby, my darling…” I giggled and finally gave in, opening one eye and looking down at him with it.  He grinned and bit his lip before kissing my hand and whispering, “Marry me?”

The wedding was nothing extravagant with not too many people there; Just Bonnie, the boys, James, and few other “close” family members of Harry’s who I had never met.  Harry’s mother showed up for just a moment and stood at the back of the isle, her head covered with a scarf and her purse clutched tightly to her chest.  I was waiting behind a hedge at the back of the garden with my wedding planner when Harry’s mom crossed in front of me, unaware that I was ten feet behind her.  She stood and watched her son as he fidgeted with his black bowtie and asked Niall to help him fix his hair.  I wasn’t sure if Harry spotted her, but I didn’t mention her to him, and he didn’t mention her to me.  I almost felt bad, but I didn’t want to ruin the day for him.  It had been years since they last spoke.  I didn’t want him to wonder for the rest of his life what exactly she was doing there.  Did she want to make amends?  Did she want to yell at Harry for not coming back home when he was younger?

There were, of course, paparazzi trying to get into the gated garden where we had our ceremony.  Everyone had to have the latest and greatest pictures for the wedding of the month.  They had to know just who in the hell could possibly be marrying the gorgeous male model, Harry Styles.  I let security worry about the paparazzi.  All I could focus on was Harry.