chapter thirty-five

-HARRY STYLES-

IT WAS RAINING at the airport. It fit the sullen mood of bidding farewell to my mother. Two weeks was a gracious amount of time after not seeing her for a year, but it still hadn't been long enough. I missed waking up to her cooking an unnecessarily large amount of food for breakfast. I missed her hugs. I missed her in general, and the moment we got onto the plane, I was already missing her all over again.

I tried to balance the separation by thinking about reuniting with Delilah. I missed her a lot, too. She was the only reason I'd been motivated enough to leave. Staying was very tempting, but being with Delilah again was even more so. She would come with me next time. I think she'd enjoy herself a lot.

Desiree sat beside me on the airplane, gripping my hand tightly. She had decided she didn't like flying. The plane shook too much, she'd said. She made me sit by the window, and Gemma had done the same with Zac because she didn't like flying, either. I suppose it ran through the female genes because Mom was anxious of it as well, but it didn't bother me.

In fact, I quite liked it. Being up in the clouds with nothing but sky ahead of you. There was no end when you were so high up, and that comforted me. I didn't like thinking about endings because most endings were never satisfying.

As opposed to the rain there'd been at the airport, they sky was clear and blue and vast. Clouds here and there, but mostly just open.

I sank back into the seat, preparing for the long flight. I closed my eyes but opened them just as quickly when Des clutched my hand impossibly tight.

"You can't go to sleep," she said quietly.

I frowned. "It's a long trip, Des."

"But what if something happens? You can't go to sleep," she repeated.

"Nothing is going to happen," I assured her. "Why don't you try to take a nap? I bet it'd calm you down some."

Her eyes widened. "Are you silly, Harry? I can't take a nap. I have to be awake. I have to know what's happening. Sleeping isn't safe."

I chuckled. "I think you're being a bit dramatic."

"I don't... Harry! Don't close your eyes!" She grabbed my face with her small hands, using her forefinger and thumb on either hand to hold my eyes open.

"Des, okay... Des, stop it." I pulled her hands back, holding her wrists. "It's all right, okay? Do you think we'd let you do something we didn't think was safe?" I asked, gesturing to her parents across the aisle, who looked like they were having a similar conversation as Gem clung fearfully to Zac.

The little girl thought this over for a minute, then shook her head.

"Exactly," I said. "You're safe."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Des still seemed unconvinced. "Can I sit in your lap so I feel safer?"

"You need to stay in your seat, love. It wouldn't be so safe for you to sit with me."

She pouted, trying to scoot closer by wrapping both her arms around one of mine. I kissed the top of her head, then to lighten her spirits, I grabbed a strand of her hair and tossed it across her face.

"Hey! It took me a whole two minutes to brush that this morning," she said, but was too frightened to remove herself from me to knock the hair off her face.

I smiled, tucking it behind her ear. "Just trying to make you smile. Worrying will give you wrinkles, you know."

She gasped. "Really?"

"Mhmm."

"I'm not worried anymore."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded, snuggling her face into my shoulder. "You said I'm safe, so I'm safe. I trust you, Harry. And I don't want wrinkles."

I laughed, sighing in content. "Oh, Des. Do me a favor and never grow up."

"But I have to," she argued. "I want to be a big kid."

"When you're a big kid, you won't want to be a big kid anymore."

"I'm confused."

"At least stay young at heart, yeah?" I hooked my arm around her small shoulders. "Don't ever change. Promise?"

"I promise."

She nuzzled as close to me as she could, and miraculously enough, she fell asleep.

***

It was around seven in the evening when we landed. I yawned, trying to keep my eyes open while we waited for our luggage. That was the only downfall of flying, the intense weariness after it all. Sleeping on the plane did little, and all I wanted was to go back to sleep.

Des was still snoozing, her arms around my neck and legs around my torso. I had to hold her with one hand, making it difficult to tote my luggage as well. Zac saw me struggling and laughed, offering to take either of them. He ended up taking one of my suitcases, concluding Des probably wouldn't let go.

Gemma's house was fairly close to the airport, so the taxi dropped them off first. I had to go inside and lay Des in her bed myself because, as suspected, she hadn't loosened her grip in the slightest when Gem tried to take her from me. Even trying to get her in her bed, I had to use both my hands to pry her arms off, and she fell back on the bed before I could catch her. I froze, scared she would wake up but let out a sigh of relief when she didn't.

I told the taxi driver Delilah's address. It wasn't very late and her house was on the way to mine. Hopefully she wouldn't find that weird, me randomly showing up. I didn't think she would. It wasn't all that strange, was it? I'd been gone for a couple of weeks so it was only normal to want to see her as soon as possible, right? Plus, we'd talked about it...

Rolling my eyes at myself and how ridiculous the mental debate was, I rested my head on the window. I was still tired, and probably would've fallen asleep had we not pulled in front of Delilah's house. I paid the man, figuring Delilah would just drive me home to spare me. As said, we had talked about that before I left. She would either pick me up from the airport or I could go to her house and she'd drive me home. I didn't think we'd get back semi-late, though, which is why I was afraid this would be weird.

But why did the time of the day make a difference?

Once again annoyed with my own thoughts, I thanked the driver, made sure I paid him the right amount, then shuffled to get my pair of suitcases out of the trunk. I left them by Delilah's car, striding up to the front door and giving it a good few knocks. I stuffed my hands in my pockets, waiting somewhat uncomfortably.

Nathan opened the door, which settled my nerves a bit. He smiled when he saw me. "Hey! Look who's back in town."

We did a little handshake before sharing a quick embrace. Delilah had called it a "bro hug" once, something apparently all guys tend to do.

"Sorry for just dropping by," I said.

"Nah, it's no problem, dude."

"Is Delilah in her room?"

At this, Nathan frowned before some sort of recognition struck in his gaze. He muttered under his breath, dragging a hand down his face. "Way to go, Delilah," he grumbled.

My eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "I don't think this next bit of news is going to make me very happy."

"You'd be right." He sighed, letting me in before closing the door behind him. "Mom and Dad went to the store to pick up a frozen dinner. Anyways, you probably don't care about that. I can't believe she didn't tell you. She promised she would."

"What's going on?" I asked, wanting to get to the point as worry began twisting in the pit of my stomach.

"She's in the hospital, man," he said quietly. "Had another little episode thing a couple days after you left. It was bad this time, though..." A gloomy look settled in his eyes and he didn't give any other information.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. The worry was mixing with a bit of frustration, and I felt bad for being a bit angry. "Why wouldn't she tell me that?"

"She said she didn't want to ruin your trip," he offered. "I'm sorry, Harry. If I'd've known she didn't tell you..."

"It's okay." But it wasn't, was it? It wasn't Nathan's job to explain to me all that had happened. It was Delilah's, and she hadn't done that. Because she didn't want to ruin my trip? It was an excuse, I suppose, but not a good one. Not good enough for me, anyways.

Nathan bit his lip, then gave a shrug. "Did you want a snack or something? Or a ride home?"

I didn't have an appetite at this moment. "A ride home would be great, if you don't mind."

"Not at all."

Once home, I immediately began to unpack. Typically I'd save it for the next day, but I needed a distraction to keep my mind at ease. If I thought too long about it, I grew a little angrier and I didn't want to be angry with Delilah. I've always tried to grasp her logic on things and stay patient, but it was wearing thin. Couldn't she see that she was destroying everyone closest to her, and especially herself?

You would think that alone would motivate someone to try a bit harder.

I groaned, turning on some music to add another distraction. Just sing along and unpack. Keep Delilah away until the morning when you're not tired and have a clearer head. It was a lot easier said than done, but it was done nevertheless. I started a load of laundry, tucked the clean things away, made myself a sandwich, switched the music for a comedy, and calmed down.

After the movie, I laid in bed, shoving my face in the pillow with a notion that if I covered my head, I'd hide the thoughts. I needed to quit thinking. I was exhausted. Sleep should've came easily, and perhaps it would've had it not been for the news I'd learned earlier.

The only time my eyes fell closed was to blink.

***

Delilah looked guilty the moment she saw me, quickly averting her gaze to her lap where she picked at her fingernails. I'd been picking my brain the drive to the hospital, trying to decide if it was best to dive right in or dance around it. This wasn't how I imagined coming back home. There had been a part of me that was afraid of this, but I didn't think she'd let it happen again.

"I'm sorry," she said, breaking the silence first.

I chewed the inside of my cheek, crossing my arms across my chest. "Nearly every day we talked on the phone. Why didn't you just tell me?"

She shrugged pitifully. "You were with your family..."

"Delilah, you should've known you couldn't keep this from me. If you had made it out before I got back, would you have told me?" I raised my eyebrows at her questioningly, but she still hadn't dared to glance back up.

Another shrug.

I felt like I was scolding a child who'd gotten in trouble. "You wouldn't even tell me if I got back after you got out?"

"You'd be mad," she murmured.

"It's a little late to keep me from getting mad, don't you think?"

"I'm sorry."

"I don't want to be upset with you, Delilah, but I am. Because honestly, I don't even think you're trying anymore. That's not saying I think you enjoy this, but you're not doing anything to change it, either," I told her, feeling a bit of relief for finally saying it. I'd tried to deny it, figuring anyone would want to help themselves get healthier, but she was giving up.

And it was obvious.

"I can't fix myself," she argued.

"You're not broken, Delilah."

"I might as well be," she grumbled. "I don't function like a normal person, so what other word is there? Abnormal? Damaged? They all mean the same thing in the end."

"You could function like a normal person if you tried," I said, trying to keep my voice from raising. "I've seen it in you before. Like the previous visit, you actually attempted to eat the soup, no matter how disgusting it was. Now, all you do is look at something and say you can't do it. It's impossible to do anything with that mindset."

"It's not that simple, Harry." She finally peered up to meet my eyes. "I can't just tell myself food looks good when it doesn't. It's easier to just not bother with it."

"That's my point right there," I said. "You're not trying anymore. You don't want to get help from a therapist, you don't want to listen to me... Delilah, you can't get help unless you want to be helped."

"I do listen to you," she countered.

I shook my head. "No, you don't. Everything I tell you is the truth, but words can't solve problems."

"Nothing will solve this, Harry. I don't like it, but I'm used to it now. I can't keep trying when it doesn't work."

Frustrated and slightly annoyed, I dragged a hand down my face before rubbing the back of my neck. "You're still not listening to me."

"I am, I'm just disagreeing. You're trying to make it sound like this simple process, but it's not simple. I keep telling that to everyone, but no one is listening to me."

"Delilah, I never said it was simple," I snapped.

"That's what it sounded like to me," she retorted.

I was shaking my head again. "I can't keep doing this, Delilah. I'm tired of going in circles. You're not only hurting yourself, but you're hurting everyone around you. Look at your parents and Nathan. Do you think they like seeing this? Do you think they want you to give up, just like that? Do you think I like this? None of us want to see you suffering."

She fell quiet, tears filling her eyes. "I know," she whispered. Hesitantly, almost timidly, her gaze slid to mine again. "I'm pushing you away, aren't I?"

I inhaled sharply, letting the breath out slow. "A little bit."

She took in a shaky breath. "I understand," she whispered again, maybe even quieter. "If you want to leave, I understand."

All the fight and anger and impatience drained out of me and I sighed, running a hand through my hair. I sank into the chair next to her bed. "I don't want to leave you, Delilah. And I'm not going to. I just wish..." I cut myself off, frowning in confusion at the marks around her wrists. They were about the width of a belt, maybe wider. "What happened?"

Delilah shuddered at whatever the occurrence had been, tucking her hands under the blanket. "Nothing. It was nothing." She looked embarrassed.

Before I had time to question it further, there was a knock at the door before the doctor came in with an anxious nurse beside him. He had a look of dismay in his gaze, almost that of regret as he clutched his clipboard to his chest.

"Delilah, we have some news..." His eyes shifted over to me, then he glanced back at Delilah warily.

"He's okay," she told him. She moved one hand out from other the covers and grabbed mine, her palm a bit sweaty. When I looked into her face, she seemed scared, dreadful.

The doctor scratched his chin. "Well, your blood test results came back and showed something interesting..."

"Please just get this over with."

"Delilah, it appears you're pregnant."