Chapter Thirty Two

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Author's Note: This is KIND OF a filler, sorry! I was sketching Harry last night, so I didn't update! IMPORTANT NEWS! There are only three chapters left of Direction Dreamer, BUT tomorrow I'll be uploading a spin-off of DD which is a NIALL HORAN FAN FIC! Exciting, right? Especially for those of you who adore Nialler ;) SO anyways, please vote/comment/fan me! I promise the next chapter will be WAY better! Thank you so much, 7,000+ reads, you're all amazing! Anyways, enjoy the chapter! xx

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As we passed through the remaining cities and towns of Massachusetts, my mind wandered. I was in disbelief that I had a father and more so that my mama and aunty had kept me from him. Somewhere out there I had a father that boggled my mind. I shouldn’t be so upset about it, but I am. I have a family, an amazing family, I have a great life, I should just be grateful for what I’ve been given, but still. “Mikaela, are you alright?” Haz asked. “Fine, just thinking I faked a smile as he walked over to me to rub my belly. “Another month and a half until we get to hold you princess!” he said to the baby, kissing my stomach. “She’s going to be a daddy’s girl!” I laughed, feeling our little girls kicking like crazy at the sound of her father’s voice. “I’m nervous” I admitted. “I am too.” He said, and propped himself up to pull me into him. “We’re going to be okay, right?” I asked him. I’d been thinking more and more about the baby we’d lost it made me nervous, thinking that this baby could be a stillborn too. It was tedious, thinking about it. Thinking of the possible outcomes. I was at a higher risk to have a stillborn, which scared me. I wanted a healthy, happy baby. The mere thought of losing another child was unbearable. Harry understood, he felt was I felt. He wanted this baby as much as I did which was why he spent so much time with her, whenever he could. He was always singing to her, talking to her, kissing my stomach or telling her how much he loved her and couldn’t wait to meet her. I thought it was kind of cute, I mean, he was so fatherly already. It made me proud, proud to call him my future husband, proud to call him my daughter’s father. I was determined to give my daughter everything that I hadn’t had growing up, and then some. She’d have a mother and a father, a loving, supportive family. She’d be loved, so loved.

The drive from Massachusetts to New York City was approximately four hours. Four long, restless hours of Niall playing the guitar, Harry snoring once he fell asleep, Zayn bickering with Perrie, Liam scolding Zayn for bickering with Perrie, and Lou being Lou. I couldn’t sleep, music was the last thing on my mind, and I blurred out the noise of bickering and screaming. I went off into my own world, imagining what life would be like a year from now, two years, five years, ten. If my daughter would be okay, if I’d ever meet my father. If Niall would find love, what was going to happen to me? Time isn’t a constant. It’s always changing, and that makes me worry. Anything could happen, and that scared me, not knowing what the future brings. As I stared out the window of the tour bus, all I saw were grey, cloudy skies. Rough roads ahead for us. A thunderstorm was brewing up and it looked angry. Rain poured down, kissing the ground and flowing downward, only to go upward later. It cloaked the windows, and I felt the moisture surround me. I drew into the tour bus’s windows, stick figures. Harry and I, and a little girl in between us, holding our hands. I wanted that. I desired it. I wanted our little girl. Another month and a half felt like eternity. Above my doodle I wrote “FAMILY” in capital letters. My family. I had a family, I didn’t need a father. Right? Yet still, the feeling swept over me, the feeling of curiosity. I found my laptop camouflaged under a pile of clothes and popped it open. “Lucas James Braley” I typed into one of those websites where you track people. Results were minimal; there were only two in the entire United States; one in Smyrna, Tennessee and another in Kansas City, Missouri. Smyrna was right on the way to Kansas City anyways, so it worked out perfectly. Kansas City was our destination following New York, where we’d be spending two weeks. Maybe I could find the lost piece of my childhood in Tennessee or Missouri.

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