Only You- A Harry Styles Fanfic

Chapter 35: You have a WHAT, exactly?

"It's been so long, it's been so long..."

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Chapter 34

I stepped off the plane in London at six am two days later. There was hardly anyone on the red eye flight, and all the passengers stepping off were groggy and sleepy. I had slept on the plane, knowing full well that I’d need all the strength I could muster to get through whatever was to come. I walked briskly to baggage claim.

Harry was waiting for me with my luggage, which was already off the plane and in his hands. I gasped at his appearance. He looked a complete mess, with red, bloodshot eyes and slightly oily hair. His dark blue jeans were creased and covered in stains, and his linen shirt was wrinkled, as if he’d been wearing it a few days. My vision blurred and my heart ached for him. Beneath that broken, dirty appearance was a man who looked lost and broken.

I ran into his arms, holding him tightly to me. Neither one of us said a word. I knew that if I did, I’d surely start sobbing. I held him for as long as I could, trying to communicate my apology to him. From the way he looked into my eyes, I knew he forgave me. I was peaceful once more.

We walked hand in hand out of the airport, not speaking. The paparazzi snapped away at Harry and me, but we ignored them. Over the past few months, I’d gotten used to it. The paps honestly didn’t bother me at all anymore. When we reached Harry’s Range Rover, we loaded my bags into the back and climbed inside.

“So,” Harry said, breaking the silence at last. He was holding my hand across the center console as he drove, stroking the back of my hand with his thumb. “How’ve you been?

“Good. Ella and Nora make me so happy. Avery too.”

“That’s good,” he said uncomfortably. It was like he was all clammed up.

“Yes,” I agreed quietly, turning towards the window. Why did this have to be so weird?

We were quiet once more as we drove. Harry still clung to my hand with a sweaty palm, and my stomach twisted uncomfortably. What was this all about? What the hell was going on?

After twenty minutes on the road, Harry made the turn off to the hospital. As he pulled into the parking lot, I turned and gave him a wondering look, and he squirmed once more.

“This is really fucked up,” he said as he parked. “But there… There’s something… or rather someone I need to show you.”

I followed Harry from the car and into the hospital. He went towards an elevator and nodded at a couple nurses, which gave the impression he’d been here a lot. We took the elevator up to one of the top floors of the hospital and down a long hallway. As we passed young parents and mothers in hospital gowns, I realized where we were. The NICU. A strong sense of déjà vu hit me strong in the face, and I looked at Harry in alarm.

“Harry,” I hissed. “Why the fuck are we here?” He closed his eyes and let a long breath hiss through his teeth. But I wasn’t dealing with this right now. I wanted answers and I wanted them now.