Eight stone three. I've gained three pounds in the last few days, and judging by Harry's reaction that's an extremely good thing. "Babe I'm so proud of you!" He comments enthusiastically, his broad arms swinging my body around in circles.

"It's all because of you." I respond with a smile, the tips of it reaching my eyes. He's helped me gain weight in only a few days and he's helping me strengthen my muscles; due to Harry's persistent and determined help, I can just about walk around the house by myself, meaning he doesn't need to carry me anymore - and I'm glad of that.

Harry has been an incredible help to me, whenever he needed something he would always make me go and get it for him allowing me to strengthen my muscles. By him doing this, it's meant that I can pretty much go wherever I like without his aid. I'm becoming a lot more dependant, I'm finally starting to become my old self again, and it's all because of Harry.

I happily volunteer to go and fetch things now, it's good exercise for me; however, I still can't climb the stairs. It's still difficult to hold and pull myself up the stairs, so Harry helps with that, although walking in general I'm a lot stronger. I eat two meals a day now, breakfast and dinner; lunch is a bit too much to ask at this moment in time, but I'm sure I'll get there soon enough.

My ears perk up at the loud rumble erupting from the skies outside and a bright flash. I let out a small gasp and my body begins to tremble slightly, "it's okay baby," Harry coos with a soft and reassuring voice, "it's just thunder and lightening."

The heavens open and rain begins to pour down heavily, bouncing off the dark grey Tarmac as a bright flash floods the sky. The way Harry's arms hold me tightly and securely ease my nerves, his reassuring grasp making sure that I feel safe. A loud burst of thunder follows not long after and my head lifts up to see him just in time, Harry's perfect green eyes bore into mine and speak to me. The jade coloured orbs tell me that I'm safe, and that he is here for me; and I'm actually starting to believe it.

I've changed a lot in these last few days that I've been home, I can already feel myself become happier and more enthusiastic about things - and Harry is the exact same. He smiles more now, and the dark circles that were once so prominent beneath his eyes have faded considerably. The old Harry is coming back.

"I love you." My wavering voices utters to him as my heart still shudders from the loud thunder and harsh lightening. However, my eyes tell a different story, the boring hazel colour staring admirably at Harry's beautiful green ones.

"And I love you," he responds with a smile making me respond with a smirk, my trembling body finally relaxing completely now as I just look at him. "You're coming back to me." His calloused fingers brush a stray piece of my hair behind my ear whilst he speaks triumphantly, happy that he is the reason behind my change in attitude.

I happily embrace his welcoming touch, nestling my cheek into his warm and comforting palm - the harsh conditions of the thunderstorm now slipping from my mind. Even though the weather is horrendous still, my mind wanders to what Harry has done for me these past weeks especially those eight excruciating days I was in that clinic for, it all shows how much he genuinely does love me and would do anything to keep me by his side.

Our foreheads lean together in their normal position, Harry's breath fanning across my face with the fresh smell of toothpaste, god I love him so much. Another round of thunder erupts outside but this time my body doesn't tremble at all, I simply ignore it and place a kiss to my husbands perfectly pink lips.

"Am I allowed to eat?" I hesitantly ask; when it comes to eating I'm not really too sure, I've started to have my breakfast when I wake up and then my dinner in the afternoon, skipping lunch. Harry says that anything is better than nothing, he even sits with me every time I eat to make sure everything has been consumed.

In all seriousness I think it's because he wants to prove that all I need is him, and he's partly right; obviously I still take my medication and I've been to two therapy sessions so far, she says that I'm doing well and that I'm progressing which Harry enjoys hearing - I love seeing him happy, it's like a collection of butterflies erupt in my stomach every time he smiles or laughs. To see the overriding pride on his face - and knowing that I caused it - is probably one of the most amazing feelings in the world so I try my best to keep him that way.

He kisses me slightly, "of course you can!" Harry's voice exclaims in enthusiasm, obviously excited that I'm instigating the meal and he's not reminding me. "What would you like love?" He smiles, his hand grabbing mine as we walk beside each other to the top of the staircase.

"Could we have spaghetti and meatballs?" I question with high hopes. In all honesty I've been craving this meal all day, I saw a chef cooking it on a tv show yesterday evening and my mind has just been hooked ever since. The way he described the juicy meatballs or delicate spaghetti was so enticing, and watching the steam come from the top of the meal - showing it's freshly made status - didn't really help my craving.

"Is it because of that tv show yesterday?" He quizzes knowingly, have I ever told you he can read me like a book?

A smirk makes it's way onto my face and I chuckle at his words, he already knows the answer to that question so there is really no need for me to respond. Harry's arms carefully lift my feather like body and carry me down the stairs with ease, allowing my feet to touch the floor once we'd eventually reached the bottom. My arms remain around his neck and I place a light loving kiss to the tip of his nose before walking with a few off balance stumbles towards the direction of the kitchen.

"So are you going to help me cook it or..?" Harry questions with a cheeky smile, I remember when it used to be me that did the majority of the cooking whilst Harry was at work, the meals made just in time for when he came back home after a long day in the studio.

"No I'll make it, it'll be like old times." My smile brightens at the memories I fondly remember.

"I was joking babe, I'll he-"

"No it's okay," he stops and listens intently after I cut him off, the words flowing consistently from my mouth. "I want to do it."

He glances at me sketchily, no too sure whether he should be leaving me along in the kitchen by myself out of fear that I may accidentally drop something and hurt myself. "Harry, I'll shout you if I need any help. I promise." I think my last words persuade him as he knows that I'll keep my promise.

"Fine, but if you need anything, let me know." He speaks finally with a soft tone, I know he's just worried about me and I'm actually thankful for that; normally Harry fusses over things and always makes sure that everything is okay before he decides to leave it alone. I know he's only doing it because he cares.

His feet carry him out of the pristine kitchen and leave me to myself. I assume that Harry is in the living room considering that the tv has turned on. "Right where to start!"

••

I've forgotten how much I love cooking! It's probably been about forty five minutes since Harry left me in the kitchen to cook our dinner; he's only shouted in a few times asking me how I'm doing or if I needed any help, I declined of course. I'm perfectly fine cooking this meal by myself, not that I don't appreciate his offers, I just want to prove to him that I'm getting better.

My eyes concentrate on my actions as I pour the Bolognese in with the spaghetti, mixing it all together; there is a sensual smell of tomato that makes my stomach grumble in hunger, the steam from the pan warming my face as I peer into it and stir with my handy wooden spoon. I used the big pan because both Harry and I were hungry when I started, and considering it's been forty five minutes, it's safe to say we're both famished beyond belief.

My mind is oblivious to the world around me as I concentrate, swirling the spoon continuously around the pan as the meal cooks. "Wow! You've made a lot." Harry exclaims, peering over my shoulder at the boiling hot pan as his hands hold my waist.

"I know, I got a bit carried away." I stifle a laugh and blush to myself, although that may be the steam from the pan, I'm not too sure.

"Well it's a good thing you did because the lads just turned up and they're hungry." He tells me. I still feel a little wary around the lads and I know I shouldn't; Harry told me that they tried to convince him to keep me in the clinic, I know they're only looking out for me and my health but still I find that they didn't believe in me whatsoever.

They lost Faith in me like I lost Faith in myself, but that's not what I need right now at all. So I'll prove to them that I'm getting better, that I'm safe at home and I'm trying my hardest, because I never want to go back to that clinic. Never.

"Okay, I'm just serving it now. Go and get the dining table ready and I'll bring them through to you all." I order him with a soft voice.

"Are you sure you'll be okay? I can help if yo-"

"Harry I'll be fine. I promise." My voice shakes with a small level of uncertainty. "I have to do this." With that he understands what I mean.

Harry's footsteps leave shortly after, taking multiple sets of cutlery to set the table whilst he leaves the plates with me to dish out. Once everyone has a decent sized portion - including myself - I decide to take a large breath. "You can do this Emma." I utter beneath my breath for reassurance.

Shakily, I slowly walk with a plate in either hand and my eyes focused entirely on my feet; the lads voices can be heard from the hallway as they sit neatly around the dining room table. The voices stop and change into a murmur as I lift my head to place one plate in front of Niall and the other in front of Zayn.

"I hope you're hungry, there's plenty for everyone." I smile, feeling like my skin is glowing with radiance. The four lads sit gobsmacked by my small recovery, their jaws hanging open as they are watching me walk for the first time in a month, and it's all because of my husband.

I glance to Harry with a smug smile, he knows exactly what I'm thinking, he knows that I'm feeling a small sense of pride for myself having proved the lads wrong. I can do this, I can do anything with Harry's help.

Dinner doesn't last long, although that might be because time flies when you're having fun - I don't think I've laughed this hard in months. It's nice knowing that everything is progressing in my life and that things are slowly turning back to normal, back to my life before all of this happened. Don't get me wrong I still struggle with the 'coping' part; Dr Lake says that when I finally accept what has happened to me then things will be a lot easier to deal with than they are now. I get emotional whenever I see and advert about babies on the tv, and sometimes I just cry at the remembrance of that day. I struggle and wake up during a deep sleep with nightmares, I fear for my lost child and sometimes I dream of a life with the baby. We would have been so happy.

I do better when Harry is around, I would probably have relapsed by now if it weren't for him and I have no idea how I'm going to cope on my own when he goes off on tour; he has this control over me, a simple touch can calm my emotional tears and change them to a simple jaw clench and a glance away - I don't know how he does it.

"I've missed you guys." I smile at them, our plates scraped empty from earlier simply because we were all really starving. My newly shining hazel eyes flit up to each of the lads and I give them a genuine smile.

"We're glad you're back Em's," Zayn sighs with a small smile. They all look as if they're hiding something, almost like they don't want to tell me what they think.

However, I quickly click on and my eyes sting with oncoming tears, "You guys think I should still be at the clinic don't you?"

"We just think that emotionally, you're not ready for all of this." Liam adds.

"I bet you didn't think that I'd be walking this soon either, huh?" They all stay quiet at my question, and I take their silence as an answer. I laugh mockingly at myself as a tear falls. "I'm walking, I'm cooking, I go to my therapy sessions, I take my medication, I eat proper meals, I'm gaining weight, what more do you want from me?"

"Emma we just want you to be okay."

"Please," my voice whispers in a beg. "I just want you to be proud of me." Another tear escapes and rushes down my flushed cheek.

All of the lads rush over to me, wrapping their arms around my small frame in a group hun; their bodies constantly radiating heat and keeping me warm in the embrace as my tears stream and sobs escape through a hitched breath. Harry though remains in his place, simply watching on and allowing myself and the lads to have this moment.

"We are proud, we just want the old Emma back." Louis explains to me, his hand running up and down my back soothingly.

Zayn's voice comes next, muffled by my shoulder, "You know you can always come to us whenever and we'll always be here to listen."

"We're so proud, you just need more time. And we're scared that it's too soon for you, but if being in this environment helps you then we won't stand in your way." An Irish accent utters near my back.

"We'll love you no matter what you choose to do. And we'll always be proud of you, because no matter how long it takes, we'll get our Emma back." Liam smiles warmly.

"By the way, your spaghetti Bolognese was way better than when Harry does it." Niall laughs as all of the lads give me air to breathe, pulling away from our intense hug.

"Heeey!" My husband whines, but I block out their teasing squabble; In this moment, I finally realise that I never lost the lads, the lads lost me, and now they're finally getting me back they're just scared I'll disappear again.

Well I'm not going anywhere. Not anymore.

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- Pianogirl56