In which Harry's POV takes the reins ❤️ The last arc of the story, through his lens. Will he finally live the happily ever after his heart has earned for ever since he met you? *Part 3 (and final)- number of chapters this part will consist of is yet to be established*
Daddy issues- Masterlist, Author’s Note & Warnings
Chapter 2.7 / alternatively, read on wattpad
Chapter 3.1 (Word count: 3.8k) - updated March 6th
“Hi, hello. Here for Mrs. Styles–”
The older nurse gave him a sympathetic look “I know, hon’. Good news, though. She’s just been discharged! I’ll buzz you in.”
Harry’s eyes brightened for a moment then he cursed under his breath “Really? I missed the doctor?”
“You’ve been here round the clock, don’t beat yourself up. You can still talk to him if you like, he’s not finished with his rounds, so you’ll have to wait a bit.”
Harry nodded absentmindedly and hesitated, not knowing where he should be waiting for the doctor.
“You can go get her, I’ll come let you know when he’s done.”
“I, uhm, wanted to speak to him in private.”
“I see.” the nurse gestured for him to sit in the waiting room, instead “He won’t be much longer. Good thing you went home to shower, huh?” she tried joking but it landed on deaf ears. He also didn’t budge, opting to stand rather than sit. She leaned in, lowering her voice a tad “Honey, I’ve worked my whole life on this ward. It will be alright, trust me. I know it’s a traumatic experience, but it’s more common than you think. She’s young. She’s strong. It’ll be fine.”
Harry couldn’t even look her in the eye. He knew she meant well, and he knew she was right. But it stung as though she’d cursed at him. How dared she make light out of this. It wasn’t just traumatic, it was tragic. Their unborn baby had died! He had half a mind to lash out at her but he kept it well in check.
He kept everything in check.
For her.
He needed to be her rock right now, and he couldn’t break down. He couldn’t afford to give in to his feelings, not for a moment. He’d cried his eyes out in the shower earlier and he then used some of his eyedrops for when his eyes got too tired from his eyeglasses to get rid of the redness. He couldn’t risk her seeing him like this. No. He needed to be strong, needed to be the shoulder she would cry on.
Because she hadn’t cried at all.
And he knew that wasn’t normal. He knew she was in shock. He knew she needed to process it all. But he didn’t know how to navigate this. Didn’t know what to say to her, what to tell her to comfort her pain.
He knew her. He knew the dark places she went to. He knew how she kept things to herself and hid her pain and how she’d only learned to be vulnerable with him in her whole life.
But now, she wasn’t letting him in, for the first time in a long time. And it was killing him more than anything.
For the 2 days she’d been there, she hadn’t spoken much. Barely eaten. Slept a lot. He sweet talked the nurses into letting him sleep with her, but they’d signal him to get out before the doctors’ visits. She didn’t push him away. But she didn’t let him hold her either. She just shrugged his arm off whenever he tried to hold her in their sleep.
He had a feeling she didn’t want him there at all.
He had a feeling she was blaming him for having this happen to her in the first place.
And he wouldn’t blame her if she did.
But he wasn’t going to budge. Not now, not ever.
They promised eachother forever, and he was sticking to the end of his deal for dear life.
“Oh, there he goes. Go talk to him, I’ll have her discharge forms ready to sign by the time you come back.”
He nodded at her, not quite finding the will to thank her, and rushed after the doctor. He introduced himself as his patient’s husband and he immediately recognized the name “Ah, yes. I did want to talk to you, myself. I’ve just discharged her, as I’m sure the nurses already informed you. Physically, she’s fine. But as with most of these cases, I’m not seeing an improvement in her mood. It’s to be expected, but can be dangerous, if we’re not too careful. I don’t mean to instil panic, but I’ve seen this take a turn for the worst and I’m just being extra cautious. There’s no reason why she wouldn’t bounce back and make a full recovery, both physically and mentally, but aside from a checkup in 3 weeks time, I’m afraid you’re gonna have to be in charge of taking note of her mental health progress. If possible, don’t leave her alone, at least for a week. Try and fall back into normal routines, reinstate a sense of normalcy as much as possible. It’s not an easy process, but as I’ve told her, this is, unfortunately, quite common and there is no reason why you shouldn’t give it another go as soon as she’s feeling up for it again. See you in 3 weeks time. Take care.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
This is mundane to him. Like checking groceries through a cash register. This is his job, she’s just another item he scans every day. And their baby just another broken jam jar, to be cleaned up on aisle five and written off the inventory.
It infuriated Harry, the nonchalance, the air of detachment. This was human life, how can they treat it like the world hadn’t suffered a great loss?
His whole world, gone in a blink of an eye.
It was just there. Right under the palm of his hand. He could feel it, when he spoke to it, when he tried sheltering it under his protection.
But it wasn’t enough.
He couldn’t save it, he couldn’t save their baby. No matter how fast he got her into the car, no matter how many red lights he ran, he couldn’t get her there fast enough for the real heroes to save it.
Turns out the real heroes didn’t really give a damn. Or maybe they did, but they sure had a funny way of showing empathy.
Harry wondered whether he was doing this wrong. He didn’t want to show her how much he was hurting, to protect her. Maybe she mistook it for indifference. Maybe she thought he was treating this the same way the nurses and the doctor were.
But he didn’t know how to approach her, not when she was so closed off. It seemed like it only took one wrong move for her to slip through the cracks. After the way they’d lost their child, so quickly, so unexpectedly, after the way he’d lost her before the same way, he couldn’t risk anything.
Making his way back to the front desk, he was surprised to find Y/N waiting for him in a wheelchair, a male nurse near it ready to aid in wheeling her to his car. Like he’d let anyone else do it. He’d never had let them put her in a wheelchair had he had it his way, but they wouldn’t just let her carry her in his arms whenever they needed to run tests that required her to get out of her hospital bed.
Seeing her in her regular clothes, out of that nightgown they’d given her, in a wheelchair, really didn’t sit well with him. But he knew better than to argue and make a scene.
Her rock, that’s what he needed to be. No room for his wounded ego to act out. Or broken heart to cry out.
She was spacing out, not even noticing him approaching her. Would she ever look at him again without that underlying accusatory look? Or was he just imagining that? Without fighting tears off, looking away whenever she would feel her eyes start to flood. She wouldn’t even let him see her cry. If she ever did, she did it in complete silence. He didn’t see her shed a single tear apart from when it was happening and they took her in to… finish it off, snatching her out of his arms, where he couldn’t reassure her or hold her hand or just be there for her, damnit. She had to go through it alone. As if it’d been her baby alone, as if she was meant to endure all that alone.
She’d never even wanted the baby to begin with.
Of course she blamed him for everything.
He’d been the one to convince her they were ready for this, that everything would be ok, that this would help heal them more than anything. Not that babies were meant to be used as a means to mend broken hearts or relationships, because he didn’t believe in that at all.
But he knew a baby would help heal her wounded inner child, would allow her to recreate the family she’d always craved for as a child.
And a baby would give him the family he’d been robbed of all those years ago. It would give him a second try and parenthood, would give him all the moment’s he’d craved for, all the experiences he’d missed while his daughter Emily grew up with her stepdad instead of him.
He knew it’d happened for a reason, her getting pregnant the moment they were back together, without them even trying. It’d been fate, destiny, God, whatever higher power had cast its mercy upon them- these two broken hearts that could only heal together.
But now it was taken away from them.
Why had this happened? Harry couldn’t make any sense of it. Everything was going perfectly. Y/N was perfectly healthy, had been to all her early checkups, everything had been fine. There was nothing to forewarn this.
And most importantly, she wanted the baby.
And she wanted him.
She’d said yes.
She’d never sounded more sure of anything in her life.
She’d never looked happier.
She’d never looked more beautiful than in that moment.
Except for when she said yes a second time, wearing white.
Looking at her now, she seemed a totally different person.
She was still his Y/N. She was still the love of his life. But she was locked away somewhere, and if he wasn’t careful, he could lose her forever.
He crouched next to the wheelchair to get in her line of vision “Hey, sweetheart. Ready to go home?”
She lowered her gaze and nodded, not returning his warm smile.
“It’s alright, I’ll take it from here” he thanked the male nurse and assured him he’d leave the wheelchair in the designated area near the hospital ramp. He then signed the discharge forms and began wheeling her out of the hospital.
“I can walk, you know. I’m not an invalid.”
“I know baby, but it’s hospital policy. Do you think I didn’t fight them on this already? It’s fine, just a few metres, alright?”
She didn’t reply and he just took her to the car, thankfully he’d parked pretty close to the entryway. He held her hand, helping her off and then opened the passenger door for her “In you go. Good girl. I’ll just wheel this back before that guy comes for me, he seemed like he meant business.”
It was odd, not even earning a small smile out of her. She would always smile at his stupid jokes but now it was as though they landed on deaf ears. He kissed the top of her head and closed the door behind her carefully, took the wheelchair to the designated area as promised and sprinted back to the car.
Letting her out of his sight for even just a moment felt imprudent.
“So. What do you feel like doing? It’s nice out, still snowing. Feel like we should take advantage of this rare treat in London.”
“Just wanna go home.”
“Really? How about we stop by in Covent Garden? I bet they put out the Christmas decorations.”
“I really don’t feel up for it, Harry. Just take me to the apartment.”
“Don’t feel like eating anything?”
She shook her head, looking out the window at nothing in particular and he knew best than to keep pushing. So he strapped in her seatbelt for her, then his, and began driving them home.
Home was an improper term for the airbnb they’d lived in for the last few months. It’d proved to be quite the task finding their home in London. And now, he was glad for it. He couldn’t imagine having to live in that house for much longer, after what had happened. He wanted to bring it up with Y/N but he didn’t know if it was wise to do so this quickly.
However, he did replace the bed while she’d been in the hospital. Not only was the mattress ruined and stained beyond repair, but he wouldn’t have had her near it again. He had to ask Mitch for help, since he would only leave her side to go shower, but he knew he’d be discreet about it and never mention it to Y/N. He could count on him.
If he had it his way, he’d never have them set foot in that apartment again, but he didn’t want to change things up when the doctor specifically told him to ease her back into old patterns and routines, to give her a sense of normalcy.
So he tried to act as normal as possible. But deep down he wondered whether she felt like he was dismissing the gravity of what had happened, much like everyone at the hospital, thus invalidating her feelings.
He didn’t know what to do.
He was caught between being her rock and feeling like he should open up to her and break down in front of her. Tell her how he was feeling.
‘Cause he felt as though his heart would never mend again.
They’d been so close to a gender reveal…
And now, somehow, it was as if none of that had ever happened.
What was he to do with all the love he felt for his child? His poor child, that never got to see the light of day. His child with whom he’d had so many plans already.
How was he supposed to act as though a part of him hadn’t died with it?
“Harry?”
He snapped out of it, focusing his gaze on his love. The only thing keeping him sane. He placed her bag on the table in the hallway and squeezed her hand, gesturing that he was listening.
“I asked if it was ok if I go lie down in the guest bedroom.”
“There’s no need to, sweetheart. I… uhm, I got rid of that bed. Alright? I wouldn’t have you near it. You can go lie down if you’re feeling tired. Want me to run you a bubble bath?”
“Uhm… they told me to avoid that for a few weeks.”
“Shit, right. I knew that. I’m so sorry. I would’ve remembered, wouldn’t have let you– I’m an idiot. Sorry. How about a shower, hm?”
“I… I don’t wanna go into the master bedroom.”
Harry’s eyes softened and he copper her face into his palms “Then don’t. Don’t do anything that upsets you, ok? Want me to change the sheets? They’ve been on there for ages.”
“Nobody slept in them, it’s fine…”
“Yeah but, let me just… air them out at least.”
“Harry. It’s fine. I just wanna go lie down.”
He watched her go into the guest bedroom and then rushed to bring her a change of clothes, expecting her to have gone in the en suite to take a shower. But he was stunned to see she’d already crawled under the comforter. In her street clothes.
Y/N would’ve never normally done that.
She wouldn’t even touch a bed without showering after coming from outside first, let alone let her street clothes touch the bedding (not to mention after forgoing showering for almost 3 days and relying on freshening up in the hospital sink and baby wipes.)
She was OCD like that, which he found endearing if a bit quirky. He specifically remembered making an argument out of how sometimes you’re just too tired to change let alone take a shower.
Turns out he’d been right. But he wished he hadn’t.
He decided to give her space, as she was wrapped safely under the comforter, and go put her laundry in the wash.
Not the clothes she’d been rushed to the hospital in, of course. No, those he’d gotten rid of that first day.
Since he hadn’t really been in the apartment for the past 2 days apart from grabbing a quick shower, he got busy clearing out the fridge and taking out the garbage, tidying up, dusting and then brooming (he wouldn’t risk vacuuming with Y/N napping) and mopping.
Then he got to cooking, and he was facing a dilemma. Should he cook her usual favourite meals? She’d developed an interesting taste in food during her pregnancy. Surely none of those meals, then. No, maybe something from before.
So he got to cooking spaghetti carbonara, one of her all time favourites. Surely she was sick of hospital food, which was probably why she hardly ate any of it.
By the time he finished everything, he noticed the sun was setting. She’d slept the whole day away, which was exactly what she’d been doing at the hospital as well.
He’d left the door to the guest bedroom ajar, and had been careful not to make much noise that whole time to keep an eye on her, and when he went to wake her up, she was in the exact same position she’d been laying in that whole time.
“Pretty?” he crouched next to her side of the bed, facing her “Time to get up, love. It’s late.”
She shifted slightly and then turned onto her other side altogether, facing away from him.
“Y/N? C’mon baby. Made you carbonara. What say?”
“Just wanna sleep…” she mumbled.
Harry sighed profusely, letting his head hang for a moment “You can’t sleep the whole day away, darling. Come on. Let’s watch a silly show together.”
“Harry… just leave me be. Please.”
His heart sank. He rested his forehead on the side of the bed and fought his tears off. How were they ever going to survive this? He didn’t know that his heart could take much more.
He needed her. He was hurting too. He wished she would comfort him for just a moment, enough so that he could gather his strength back and take over again. He needed her to tell him it’ll be alright. Needed her to tell him she was gonna be alright, that she was gonna smile again one day.
That she didn’t hate him.
That she still loved him forever, like she’d promised him. For better or for worse. Because this was definitely worse.
He begrudgingly stood up and left the room, all the while fighting off the idea of how drowning his sorrows in alcohol seemed like the only temporary escape from this hell.
Because, unlike Y/N, he’d barely slept a wink for the past 72 hours.
He’d been sober ever since they’d gotten back together. He’d not touched a sip of alcohol. And he’d never been more tempted than right then and there. He felt so utterly alone, so desperately alone and clueless as to how to move on, how to keep on breathing, living.
But he couldn’t give up. A quick glance back to the door left ajar and he made up his mind.
After dutifully putting the food away, he stripped his pants and socks off, then carefully crawled into the guest bed next to her. This bed was smaller than their own, or rather, the new replacement he’d gotten. But it was definitely bigger than the hospital bed he’d slept on the edge of, careful not to interfere with any of the IV lines that were connected to her fragile arms.
He flinched, having to blink a few times, noticing it’d gotten noticeably darker “Yes? What is it, baby?” Had she really called out to him? Or had he imagined it, having laid there for God knows how long staring at her turned away from him.
“... Are you ever going to forgive me?”
A/N: well, this is bittersweet. i'm excited to be posting this beginnign to the 3rd and final arc to the story, but of course my heart broke while writing this. hopefully y'all don't hate me too much 🥺 also i am very VERY excited to finally explore harry's pov! ❤️ just wanna reiterate how much feedback means to me and how hugely impactful it is on this story's continuity! i've been writing this for close to 2 years now! we're nearing the end! glad to have everyone on board for the ride! ❤️
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