FINE LINE | HARRY STYLES

FIFTY-FIVE.

DECEMBER, 2019. CONT.

Her name is Valerie.

She's flying in from New York today. Tomorrow, I'm meeting her. And I'm so nervous.

I'm not sure how to go about this. I don't know if I should come off as cold and distant or warm and welcoming. Benny tells me to just hear her out, but I'm struggling to even agree to do so.

Over the past couple of days, I've been researching pregnancy, everything about it. It's all I could do since Harry and I weren't really on talking terms. Frankly, I think he's hurt and angry and I don't blame him for not reaching out.

But I hope he does.

Anyway, during this time, I've isolated myself in the guest room, using Claudia's laptop to search up everything there is to know about babies and what goes on in there. I had to take a lot of breaks learning about what happens during birth. Especially when it started to hit me that something was going to come out of there and I can barely handle period cramps.

And the stretching? When Harry and I started having sex, I could barely handle it because well, he's not exactly small and it took time for me to adjust. And then after Wesley, it was right back to square one.

How the hell am I supposed to push a human out if it took me a week to handle dick?

After researching the medical side of it all, I went into a deep hole of the "cute" and "exciting" moments of pregnancy. So, I ended up watching a lot of gender reveals and those "telling my bf/husband/gf/wife I'm pregnant!" videos on Youtube. I cried through every single one which is something I would have never done if I wasn't pregnant.

So thanks you little brat.

Then I started getting emotional thinking about my pregnancy. I concluded I really want a girl. Not because I'm one of those "it has to be a girl so I can dress her up and turn her into a mini me" people, but because I want to see Harry raise a daughter.

For as long as I've known him, he always made it apparent he wants a girl more than anything. I doubt he'd mind if it was a boy because he'd love him nonetheless. But, I know seeing him with a daughter would kill me.

She'd absolutely adore him. Totally a daddy's girl, I sense it. I can already picture it all. He'd paint her nails and braid her hair and he'd be more than excited to dress up in tutus with her and run around the house playing princess or having tea parties. And she'd paint his nails and he'd still love them even though they'd probably be all messy. She'd use my makeup on his face and put stickers in his hair and she'd dance to his music and cheer for him backstage.

Then I broke down. Because even though he'd totally love her, it'd probably never be the way I'd want it to be. We wouldn't be that family, we'd be two separate parents. I wouldn't get to see all those moments because I'd be at home, alone. And if anything, his next significant other would get to see it all.

When I picked myself back up, I decided to watch birth videos. Just to see the process. And that's when I fucking lost it. The moment the baby came out and they placed it on the mother's chest, each time I broke down into heavy sobs.

That's when I got angry at Valerie. I knew it was dumb, but it made me think.

Holding my baby for the first time, comforting them as they cry onto my chest, naked and new to the world, it's something I'm looking forward to. It's going to be something I'll cherish forever. The moment the rest of my life starts.

She had that. I was born and she got to share that moment with me and she still didn't want me. She still gave me away like I was nothing.

And that's what hurts the most.