Disclaimer: this chapter includes details about a miscarriage.
It's been three hours.
You've never seen Harry so heated... so upset.
So disappointed.
It was clear that the argument would have no winner from the beginning. You both just started bringing things up from the past, things that shouldn't of mattered anymore, things that you said you didn't care about.
He kept telling you to calm down in that same concerned, quiet tone that he always seemed to use when you were upset.
It just riled you up more.
In the heat of the moment you told him to get out. He obliged, even though it was technically his house too.
Things weren't supposed to be like this, after all, this was his last night at home before he had to fly off halfway across the world for god knows how long.
You wanted to make your time together special. You pulled out all the stops and made reservations at his favorite little bistro that neither of you could pronounce, conjured up his all time favourite rom-coms that you loved to hate, and you even had that old Van Morrison record that was always stuck in his head playing in the foyer when he arrived home from the airport.
You shouldn't of brought it up, Any of it, until you two were ready.
You pull out your phone.
"I don't think I want to talk about it anymore."
It buzzes back immediately.
"Im outside. come talk to me."
His silhouette sat on the edge of the porch swing, gently swaying to and forth.
You couldn't see his face, but you just knew his salmon pink lips were stretched into half smile as he patted the empty space beside him.
"So." You sighed, laying your head on his shoulder. You feel his arm wrap around your back, scooting you closer to his warm body.
"So?" He replied in a more inquisitive tone. He laid his chin atop of your curls and let out a deep breath. "I guess we really know how to hurt each other, huh?"
"Nope. You scoffed. "I'm just a really big party pooper."
Harry laughs, causing a familiar warm feeling to creep up from your stomach all the way to your cheeks.
"It wasn't your fault you know." You blurt out suddenly, causing Harry to stop rocking the swing.
"I mean about the bab-"
"Nadia" he corrects.
"About Nadia." You continue. "I think that when we lost her, we kind of lost a bit of ourselves too."
He began fidgeting with his fingers the same way as earlier, when you two began to bicker. You instantly regret bringing it back up, but are surprised when his deep, raspy voice cuts through the silence.
He spoke carefully. "I know that, but I also know that this just isn't about Nadia, babe."
"Oh?"
"You're upset that I've decided to go on tour."
You nod. "It hasn't even been a month yet ,and you're already ready to pack up and go?" You felt a knot form in your throat and you stop yourself.
"It's not even like that." He whispers into your hair, looking into the foyer from the sliding glass doors. He scoffs. "Our baby is dead, but I don't even think i've fully processed it yet, and in order for me to do that I just need to get away for a while."
"To forget." You add, studying his long, slender hand. Out of instinct your fingers outline the large scar underneath your belly button, a constant reminder.
He sighs. "Well, yes. To an extent. I'll never forget about our beautiful daughter, and how strong her mother was for carrying her."
"Har-"
"And no matter how far i'll go, i'll never forget how much I love you, because nothing can change that, not even your horrific taste in romantic comedies."
"Hey!" you whine, punching his arm. "I tried my best."
His cheeks dimple, and he stares into your eyes like he was falling in love with you all over again.
"But of course, there are some things I wa- no, I need to forget, because those are the things that make nights like this happen..." He trails off. "I'm so sorry, babe. For everything."
"Me too." You admit. "And I'm sorry for being so selfish. You're going on a world tour for goodness sake. This is huge, Harry. We're supposed to be celebrating!
Suddenly, Harry's on his feet, and he uses the momentum to pull you off the swing and into his sweet lips.
You could feel him smiling.
"Well let's kick it off right."
He gently cusped your cheek in his hand, using the other to grab your bum, pushing him closer to his body.
You felt like putty in his arms and he knew it.
"Let's not fight again. Ever."
"Ever." You agree.
Later that night as Harry held you close to his bare chest, you thought about how much you would miss him. You didn't want to see him go, but you knew that you both had your separate ways of healing.
You roll over and kiss the edges of his mouth, and you could feel his lips turn up into a smile.
"I love you Harry." You whisper into his neck. "So much that it hurts sometimes."
Harry wearily opens his eyes. His voice was husky and low. "I love you too, baby. That's why you're coming on tour with me."
You're taken aback a bit. "What? I can't go on a world tour with you, what about work? The house? I haven't even packed!"
"I've got it all taken care of. It was supposed to be a surprise." He sighs, tucking your hair behind your ear. "But you know how I am with secrets."
You can barely contain your excitement. You climb on top of him and cusp his face in your hands. He laughs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"Wow, ready for round two so soon?"
You lean forward and plant a kiss on his lips. He returns it, and pulls you down, holding you against his chest.
"I can't believe I was going to miss out of this everyday for a year." He says in disbelief.
You laugh, tracing imaginary circles into his chest. "Keep this up and we might have some more curly headed rock-stars running around here."
"Promise?" He asks, his tone sounding much more serious.
Even though you hadn't really processed that you said, you knew that one day, when you were ready, you wanted to bring a physical carnation of the love you felt this very moment into the world.
You look down into his glassy green eyes and nod.
"I've never been more serious about anything in my life."
