The Time Capsule (Harry Styles Fanfic)

Chapter 33

Harry's POV
August's 1st Birthday

My son was the best thing to ever happen to me. I had thought this exact same thing a thousand times before, and I meant it just as much each time.

He walked around wobbly as can be, taking two steps before falling back down on his diapered butt. "Da! Da!" He yelled, as he turned to looked at me and smiled while clapping his chubby little hands.

"I saw you big guy! You're doing awesome."

His turns his curly head towards the door when he hears someone messing with the handle, and squeals in delight when my mother walks through the door with a chocolate cupcake in her hand.

"Happy 1st birthday Auggie!" She said excitedly and then scooped him off the floor in a bear hug, smothering his little cheeks in kisses.

   "Mom, his party is in like 5 hours. Why are you over here feeding him even more sweets?"

   "Because I'm his grandmother and that is what awesome grandmas do." She answers quickly.

   "Ya!" Auggie yells, brown icing already smeared everywhere on his face as he devours the cupcake.

   "Have you heard from Della?" Mom asks.

   I shake my head. "No."

   "Do you think she'll come today?"

   I lean back on the couch cushions on a sigh. "I'm sure she won't."

   "And what was her excuse for that?"

   "She said he'd have plenty of other birthdays and this event was a once in a lifetime chance for her or something like that."

   My mom looks mad enough to spit fire. "It's his first birthday! That bit-"

   "Mom." I say sternly, cutting off what she was about to say. "Today is about Auggie. And I refuse to ruin it by think about how slack his mother has been. He'll have a better day without her around anyway I'm sure."

   She huffs but nods her head in agreement, knowing at least that part of it is true.

   I understand her frustration and anger though, because I feel it every time my son looks around and asks for his mom. Despite how absent she is, he still remembers her and wants her.

   The first 3 months after August was born, Della was great. We were co-parenting so well and I was staying on her couch just to help her get extra sleep at night and spend time with my son. But things quickly changed after that.

   She started leaving me at home with and not coming home until 2 or 3 in the morning, and she smelled of alcohol and cigarettes.

   I called an end to him staying over at her house when I couldn't get a hold of her one morning so I went over to her apartment to check on them. August was sitting up in his crib crying, his diaper full of piss and shit, hungry as could be. Della was passed out on the couch and hungover.

   I grabbed my son and cleaned him before we left. I expected her to fight me on him, want him back or to spend more time with him, but she couldn't be bothered. Me taking him only gave her more freedom to do the things she was missing out on, as she put it.